Leaving Cyprus

Another winter has passed in Cyprus.   But even at the beginning of February, it was already getting warmer.   The Sunday before I left was absolutely glorious.  The weather was perfect with a slight breeze and plenty of sun for most of the day.  Everybody was out walking and enjoying the Mediterranean.  It reminded me just how much I love the island.  That’s why I keep coming back.

But I have to leave in order to come back.  And that time had come again.

I needed to lighten the load in my bags.  I decided to ship some souvenirs and stuff back to the States because I couldn’t fathom the idea of going back myself.  It’s been almost a year since I’ve been across the pond. 

What?  I can’t believe it’s been that long – and yet I know exactly why it’s been so long.  I continue to be stunned by how bad things have gotten in the U.S. in just the last year.  It’s not only the news coming out of there that’s affected me, but I’ve also watched the value of the dollar take a nose-dive compared to the euro.  When I first started this journey, the dollar was only slightly less valuable than the euro.  But now?  Ten euros spent in Europe is now more like S11.15 USD.  Multiple that amount for groceries and transport?  Yeah.  Things are bad. 

In spite of everything, I know that I will have to go back this year to handle some business.  I can’t even imagine how overstuffed my mailbox is.  So, yeah, I’ll have to make at least one trip this year. 

Just not now.

Instead, I decided to ship some extra stuff back to Georgia.  Better for my stuff to go there than me.  I made several trips to get this done: a trip to the local grocery store for a spare box, a trip to a stationary store for a roll of tape, and finally a trip to the post office. 

That last trip, which was supposed to be the easiest, didn’t go as well as I'd planned.  The lady behind the counter got weird when I told her I wanted to send the package to the States.  She explained that it was complicated now.  If I wanted to ship the package, I’d have to go online first to fill out a form, take pictures of everything in the package and upload everything to the website, print out a shipping label, and then return to the office to ship the package. 

With my mouth hanging open I tried to take the flyer with all the info, but she wouldn’t give it to me.  I got the feeling that she just didn’t want to be bothered.  I didn’t even get an estimate of how much it would cost as I grabbed the box and headed for the door.  She suggested that some of the other mail carriers might not have as many restrictions on them.

Yeah.  About that.

There is a DHL office right across the street from the post office (I do love a good walkable city!), but the office hadn’t opened yet.  I went back to the apartment to wait then lugged the box back to the office …

And then lugged it back to the apartment after the DHL lady told me it would cost $250 to ship it to the U.S.

Are you SH!TTING me!!!

It costs less to ship ME, along with all my crap, from Cyprus to Tirana than to ship a 10-pound package from Cyprus to the U.S.

And since my plane was leaving later that day, I decided I didn’t need to keep most of the stuff in that box.  I took out a few choice items and the rest got chucked in the trash.

I hated to do that.  But nothing in that box was worth $250.  There is no way.

And the upset didn’t stop for the day.  I gathered all my stuff and headed to the bus stop to get to the airport.  Already tired, upset and sweaty, the wait added ‘impatient’ to that list of issues.  I also wasn’t even sure if the bus I needed would stop at that stop as I watched it stop across the street from me. 

I hauled my stuff across the street, missing that bus as it drove away, then decided to head to Finikoudes bus stop.  I’d caught the airport shuttle from there the last time so I knew I could again.

Until I couldn’t.

Minutes after I took a seat, a man walked by and told me that the airport shuttle no longer picks up at the beach.  I just looked at him, immediately thinking he was a cab driver just looking for fares.  But no.  He took a seat while I got up to look at the posted bus schedules.  Then a British woman came over and told me the same thing and that I’d have to walk to the official bus station (only about 500 meters away) to catch the bus.

Sigh.

Screw this.  I decided I was done waiting and figured I’d get a cab.  I still recommend avoiding cabs in Cyprus because they are overpriced.  But I was tired, okay?  I just wanted to get to the airport without any more waiting.  But, since I’d only planned on paying 2.40 euros for a bus and I was heading to Albania which has its own currency, I realized I didn’t have enough money for a cab.  Time to hit an ATM.

Why is it when I don’t need one I can find an ATM everywhere?  But when I’m tired and lugging my bags on a sunny Cypriot day and really need a break, the cash machines just disappear?   Why is that?  There are plenty of machines along the beach and among the restaurants, but I swear they were hiding from me that day.

Once I finally found one and headed to the taxi stand, I spotted another ATM.  Directly across the street from the taxi stand.  Of course.  

So, to sum up, my last day in Cyprus was a flat-out mess.  It was too much noise, waiting, sweating while hauling all my crap, a couple of broken nails, and being on the verge of tears more than once.  In other words, it was a travel day.  And a pretty bad one.  Not Jamaica bad or getting stopped by Turkish customs bad, but not the most pleasant of my recent experiences.