Time’s up.
Still haven’t figured out my finances and must flee Portugal
again. My bone-deep weariness deepens.
My current malaise only uncreased when I found out that
Portugal has changed its immigration policies.
Under the new system, it now takes 10 years instead of 5 to attain residency.
All the people in the current process of
citizenship are in limbo with the new system.
The country was already known for its insanely slow bureaucratic
process and now the new system is leaving everyone confused about how to
proceed. A YouTuber I follow (Dave in
Portugal) who’s been in the country for 5-7 years said that if he were faced
with trying to immigrate now, he’s not sure he would do it. The new system has made the whole process too
difficult.
Great.
The goal of moving to the country just seems to get further
and further out of my reach. With the ever-worsening
news coming out of the U.S., I know there’s no way in hell I’d ever want to go
back there to live. I’d rather be
nomadic forever (and I really don’t want to do that).
Weird things are also happening in my second choice of
country, Türkiye. It’s bad enough that
the lira has devalued a lot in the last year, causing many immigrants to move
out, but there was an incident recently that was really alarming. A German family of tourists, two kids and
their parents, all died
due to some kind of chemical being sprayed in their hotel. Earlier this year
there were also reports of tourists being drugged or dying from food or alcohol
in the city. With everything getting more
expensive there, it’s thought that merchants are skimping on ingredients and putting
people at risk.
Yikes. I hate hearing
all that about the country. I can only
hope things get better for the Turks.
As for my number 3 immigration candidate, Cyprus, I decided
to spend the winter there. Just like last
winter. Boy, am I ready to be housed.
But I remain grateful.
I’m not completely broke (yet), I still have the freedom to move about as I chose,
and, most importantly, I’m not in the states.
Things are much worse for a lot of folks there and they are always on my
mind.
Anyway, enough with the gloom and doom. I took the usual route of taking an Uber to Faro
Airport. From there it was a quick
flight to Lisbon for a 4-hour layover until my next flight. That was the easy
part.
The part that concerned me was the flight from Lisbon on an unfamiliar carrier. I still vividly
remember getting robbed by Ryanair coming into Portugal and didn’t want the
same thing to happen with Sky Express.
The guy checking me in asked me to also check the weight of
my smaller bag. He then gently warned me
that the clearance was usually 8 kg and my bag was overweight at 14 kg (this
was because I was trying to lessen the weight of the big bag which still ended
up being heavy). I started reaching for
my purse when he shook his head and said he’d let it pass this time.
What? You mean I’m
not about to be robbed? Seriously? I thought for sure I’d end up shelling out
another 50 euros just to be able to secure my seat. I discovered later that the plane was barely
half full so it was easier for him to overlook the weight limit. I also think that it helped that my name is
Daphne.
It’s one of the things I do enjoy about traveling to Greece or Cyprus. If ever I tell anyone my name, they are sure
to remember. Oh. Tall, black, American woman – that’s Daphne.
Cool.
I didn’t even get pinched by any of the security in Greece
or Portugal. Truly the Travel Gods have
smiled on me and I am grateful.
The flight from Lisbon was an overnight to Athens
Airport. A short layover there and I was
back in Larnaca. I managed to book my
favorite place on the island (and one of the best of my entire journey) for a
little under three weeks. The place
wouldn’t be ready for another day so I booked a night at a nearby hotel.
I took the city bus to Finikoudes Beach (a note again to
anyone visiting the island: avoid the cabs.
The bus is cheaper and worth the wait.) then dragged my crap up the
familiar road to the apartment …
Only to find that the whole area leading up to the apartment is to’ up from the flo’ up. And I mean that literally. The sidewalks and the street are completely gone,
replaced with rocky dirt and construction vehicles.
Boy was it fun to transfer from the rough Cyprian sidewalks
to no sidewalk at all! I wasn’t even sure I could get into the hotel because
the workers were right in front of the door.
I managed to maneuver myself across rickety boards to the entrance only
to find the door locked. Sigh.
I called the number on the door, but found the line was disconnected. Seriously!?
I wouldn’t have been able to get in if one of the construction workers didn’t
come out a few minutes later. I entered
the empty reception area and quickly realized that there was no elevator in the
ancient building, just a really long set of stairs. Some more fun!
After ringing the bell and getting no response after 5 minutes,
I went upstairs to find someone. The lady
running the place followed me downstairs and checked me in. While she was doing that, the Asian cleaning
lady came in. She remarked on the construction
and told me that they’d been working on the street for the last 6 months. It was only now that the tiles were being placed
for the new road and it would be another few months before everything was
finished.
The hotel was decent enough with each room named for the 9
muses of Greek mythology. There was a
rooftop bar (closed for the season) and a breakfast area just outside of my
room. I had a good night’s sleep (pretty
much a guarantee after the rough night of sleeping on the plane) and woke to a hodgepodge
breakfast of sliced meats, olives, toast, crepes, coffee and juice.
It's unusually warm in Cyprus this year, with the temps
hitting the low 80’s F. I enjoyed the
sunshine, ate my olives, and reveled at being back on the Mediterranean.
