Along with the Turkish and Greek influences I mentioned in
the last post, Cyprus also has another big contributor to its culture: the Brits.
Cypriots drive on the other side of the car on the other side of the
road. There are multiple pubs owned by Brits,
English breakfast is served everywhere, and the outlets are in the U.K.
style. When I first arrived and did my
standard outlet search, I stared at the plug a little too long trying to figure
out the issue. I’d been so accustomed to
using the European adapters that I was surprised to have to whip out the ones I
bought in Dublin.
Unsurprisingly, there are Brits everywhere. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the Brits get around and they are serious
about it. Their whole attitude is they grab
a bag and a passport and they bounce.
They are pretty easy to spot too, even before I hear an accent. The Brits have perfected the art of sitting
in a pub/café with a beer on the table just staring at nothing.
There is a strange phenomenon that I have to mention exists
on the island. It seems to be a rip in
the space/time continuum. Time just
slips by in Cyprus. I’d wake up, have
breakfast, go for a walk and lunch, come back for dinner then before I know it,
it was time for bed. It’s like every day was Sunday right before the beginning of another work week.
Before I knew it, my time at Demetris’ place was up. I had arranged for another Airbnb further up
the coast to allow me to see more of the island. Uber doesn’t exist in Cyprus. Instead, there are taxi stands sprinkled around
the high tourist areas. I hauled my
stuff over to one and found someone to take me the roughly 40 miles to the city
of Paralimni.
My new home for the week, while in a great location, came with a few issues. The place is quite large for Europe with a decent sized bathroom (with a tub) and two sitting areas. But I quickly discovered why the doors had been left open. It wasn’t only to allow in the warm Mediterranean breeze – it was to let out some of the stench. Even though it was empty on my first day, I quickly realized that the trashcan in the cabinet beneath the sink (and surprisingly not the bathroom) was stinking up the joint. Even after moving it to the balcony AND buying some air freshener, some mustiness remained (some of that coming from one of the sofas).
And that’s not all. The cook top (yet another unfamiliar induction model) was cracked, which rendered it inoperable. Like those things aren’t already a pain in the butt. The internet would cut out at regular intervals. When I used the microwave for more than 5 minutes, it would cause a power surge and shut off for several minutes. The faucet leaked as well as the toilet when flushed.
There was no shower gel (you spoiled me, Demetris!), the
garbage trucks picked up at 2 a.m. (ask me how I know!), and there was no sensor
on the light in the hallway. The
apartment may be very bright from all the windows, but you can't tell when
you’re out in the hallway, fumbling to get the key in the lock while immersed
in total darkness (yes, there is a light switch, but I insist that it should be
motion detecting considering all the other issues in the apartment.)
Things somewhat improved when I got a visit from the host two days after my arrival. I had messaged him about the issues on my first full day in the place. He'd told me about the power surges but had no answer when I asked about the cooktop. When my doorbell first rang, I ignored it thinking it was a mistake. He messaged me after he left, alerting me to
the bottle of wine he left by the door. Dude
should know to contact me first. Why
would I open the door of a rental when I’m still eating breakfast and was not
expecting anyone? He did make up for it
by showing me that the stovetop does work.
I simply hadn’t flipped on the right power switch. Those are a big thing in Cyprus as the cost
of electricity is apparently very high.
I had to pay a separate bill for the power I used – something I haven’t
had to do since Phuket last year.
But enough about the apartment. First impressions of Paralimni – it made me miss Larnaca. Don’t get me wrong, Paralimni is pretty, but it has a resort feel to it that was a bit jarring after Larnaca. Where Larnaca was a bunch of waterfront shops along a boardwalk bordering the long stretch of Finikoudes Beach, Paralimni is a series of hotels, restaurants, and massage kiosks clustered around several small coves.
Again, pretty, but I think I prefer the livelier capital
city.
One of the main reasons I wanted to come to this place was
its proximity to the island’s Hard Rock Café.
Yes, the quest is still on to buy more overpriced souvenirs. My first attempt at getting a cab was fruitless
(I still have no idea what the guy was saying, only that he turned me down). I
tried to understand the extensive bus system on the island but was left very
confused. Too many buses with similar routes. Finally, I messaged the host who was able to
give me directions.
After a 20-minute bus ride for the low cost of 1.50 euros, I
arrived in Ayia Napa. This was another busy
tourist hub focusing more on the shops and restaurants as the shoreline was a
little too rocky for bathers. I made a
beeline for the café, bought my shirt and had some lunch.
Just a note: if you ever
see someone wearing a Hard Rock t-shirt from Cyprus, know that it’s a
knockoff. The shirts sold by the store
say Ayia Napa not Cyprus. Call me a purist,
but I prefer to have the real thing, even if I have to travel out of my way for
it.
Sigh. Parasite alert: Cyprus edition.
While in Ayia Napa, I was sitting on a bench, looking at the
water and just enjoying the breeze when a man walking by on the trail said
hello. He introduced himself as Andreas
and we started to chat. Then he asked me
if I wanted to walk with him while he hunted.
I had no idea what he meant as his accent was pretty thick. Then he started to gesture towards the beach. Still didn’t get it. He said he wanted me to come with him so as
to seem less suspicious.
It slowly started to dawn on me that ONCE AGAIN I had been
minding my own business and became the target of a parasite. He basically ruined my peace with the intent
to use me to ruin the peace of younger hotter women. I wished him luck and quickly left the area. I still can’t believe his audacity.
Men really are gross.
I don’t know why I keep forgetting that.
I’m seriously thinking about getting a dummy wedding
ring. I suck at lying, so maybe seeing a
ring will keep the vampires at bay.
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