Ah. The joys of a
middle seat when you have 3-foot-long legs and are already tired of sitting on
planes. Yes, that was the fun I
experienced on the flight out of the U.S.
I’m usually kinda jazzed to once again be leaving the country, but this
time I’m just tired.
That fatigue worked in my favor as I slept during most of
the overnight flight. Landed in Heathrow
for a bit of a layover and then it was onto security. My 20-minute ordeal with security trying to
find a .66 mil container of lotion in my computer bag during my last trip
through the airport was still fresh in my mind but, mercifully, there was no
issue this time. The flight back to Lisbon
was just as uneventful.
I’d flown to the states this time on a round-trip fare from
Portugal as it was cheaper. It also put
me in a decent position to fly to my next destination. I spent another night in VIP Picoas and
headed back to the airport the next day.
This is where my issue with taxis really comes into
play. I’d taken an Uber from Lisbon
airport to this same hotel when I travelled in from Faro and it was about 11
euros. That same trip by taxi, depending
on the time of day, costs anywhere from 13-30 euros. The last guy also complained that I didn’t
tip him (he’d also complained earlier about having back issues and not being able
to help with my bags – seriously? And
you still want a tip?). The convenience
of having the cab waiting in front of the airport is usually not even worth the
extra expense. You’d think I’d learn
that lesson by now, but I’m still stubborn like that.
Just as an aside; I’m still using esims for my phone since
Google Fi cut me off from international travel (still works perfectly fine in
the states). For some reason, the last
couple of sims I used in Portugal would just randomly stop working. This is part of the reason I was so quick to
hop a cab as my connection to Uber was often spotty.
Another plane, another country. It’s a four-hour flight from Lisbon to
Greece. I’d taken this same flight way
back in the beginning of my journey and I was even less eager to leave Portugal
now than I was then. At least this time
I wasn’t staying in Greece. The Athens
airport was just a means of getting back to Cyprus.
Except … why do the departure signs in the airport show that
there is another airport on the island?
I’m flying into Larnaca, the airport I’m familiar with, and yet my
accommodation in located in Paphos. Are
you telling me that Paphos airport is a short bus ride from my Airbnb while the
airport I’m actually flying into is two hours away?
Really?
Oy.
I made this same mistake when flying into Montenegro. I flew into Podgorica when I should have flown
into Tivat and had to pay for that exorbitant taxi ride between the two cities. How was I to know at the time? When I searched for flights to the country, I
just assumed the first airport that came up was the main (if only) airport in
the area. Sigh. Another live and learn moment.
I’d already be arriving in Larnaca after 11 pm. I could not face the idea of a 2-hour taxi
ride from there to Paphos (which would cost about 130 euros!) followed by an exhausted
fumbling for keys to get into the new place, in the dark, while lugging all my crap. Couldn’t do it.
I booked a one-night stay in a hotel in Larnaca and figured I’d sort out getting to my apartment when I was fresh the next morning. After arriving even later on Cyprus than planned (the flight was delayed), waiting far too long for my bags, and having to hail a cab to the hotel (that still cost 20 euros – it’s 2 miles away, my dude!), I still had to fumble for keys in the dark. The reception desk had been abandoned by the time I got there, so the owners sent me pictures and instructions to get in.
It was a clean enough place.
There was a bed. I slept.
The next morning, I scouted for some breakfast before trying
to figure out the bus routes on the island.
Oh. Yeah. The sun on the Mediterranean. Can’t beat it. It’s why I chose to spend the next three
months of exile from Portugal on the island.
I don’t have the bandwidth for anywhere new and, as I learned last year,
my dear Istanbul is way too cold and rainy this time of year. Cyprus remains sunny and warm at around 65
degrees F.
Still miss Portimão, though.
While sitting at breakfast in a seaside cafe, basking in the
sun, I had a moment to think. The last
few days had been rough with all the travel and I still had another day of land
travel before settling in my new home. I was tired, anxious about my employment
situation and my dwindling bank account, and uncertain about how the rest of the
day would go. But I was in Cyprus, a place
I liked, and it was beautiful.
And this is my life at the end of 2024. I had breakfast
while watching the sunrise in Lisbon and the next day, I watched the sun set in
Paphos. I may be ready to return to
being a cat lady/hermit with a boring desk job in Portugal, but I can still
appreciate the amazing moments I’ve had on this journey.
Meal done, I went back to the hotel to check out. The nice lady at the desk showed me how to
catch the city bus into the center of Larnaca.
A short walk from there took me to the boardwalk along Finikoudes Beach,
a place that was already familiar to me.
From there I caught the bus from Larnaca to Limassol. Once there, I caught another bus to Paphos.
So, just to see some numbers, 20 euros for the cab ride from
the airport, 53 euros for the hotel room, 2.40 for the city bus, 4 euros a
piece for each of the intercity buses, and 13 euros for yet another cab from
the bus station to the apartment. Altogether,
that totals 96.40. Would taking a cab
for the entire journey be easier?
Yes. But since I am really tired of
paying for overpriced cabs, I think saving 30-40 euros made all the transfers
and waiting more than worth it.
The apartment turned out to be worth the trouble as well. It’s a spacious place with a huge bedroom and a direct view of the pool.
The ocean is about a mile away while the city center is a mile in the other direction. I’ll be here for two weeks, the longest I could stay as the place is booked up. After that I might make my way to Limassol on the way back to Larnaca. I don't know yet. After the last week, I’m really not in the mood to make any more arrangements for a while.
My first morning in Paphos, I went to a local pub for breakfast. And yes, I want food and not a beer at 10:30 in the morning like the people at the table near me (no shade on them, I just can’t get with the ‘every hour is beer hour’ attitude of the Brits/Irish). As I’ve mentioned before, Cyprus is crazy with Brits as this place can attest. It’s a British pub playing British music and featuring screens showing football (American soccer). There were ads on the radio for relocation services for Brits looking to move to Cyprus.
As I ate my big English breakfast, the genial Irish guy who
ran the place asked where I was from.
When I told him the U.S., Georgia, he immediately responded with “that’s
too bad”. It made me laugh, but when he
added that it was like adding a lift to a toilet, I only laughed harder. Unasked, he then proceeded to give me all
these tips for getting around the island, including a warning about the crazy
prices of the cab drivers. Good food,
good atmosphere, and good tips. Can’t
ask for more as a tourist in a new city.
Oh yeah. And
cats. Don’t forget the cats.
