Fig Tree Bay and Cape Greco

 We're still keeping up our weekly days out - so far, anyway, while the weather holds. Last Friday it was still really too hot for walking anywhere, so we decided to have a slightly longer drive than previously.  We knew of Fig Tree Bay, although neither could remember much about it. I recalled going there with friends some years ago, and that it was pleasant, but rather touristy. 

We decided to take a picnic rather than eat out, and took a mostly scenic route rather than the highway, where possible. Eventually we reached the small - and very touristy - town centre, and after a couple of Google Maps errors, found the main car park. We were very surprised to see how full it was - we weren't sure that we would find a spot, but eventually discovered another part of it.

We were even more startled to see that the beach was absolutely packed with people:

We had thought we might rent a sunbed and shade, and eat our picnic on the beach. Evidently that was not to be. We had thought that, on a normal week day in October, it would be a lot quieter. But apparently this is still tourist season as far as the beaches are concerned. When we returned to the car park later, we realised that more than half the cars in the car park had the red tourist number plates.

We walked a short way along a path by the beach, past hotels with people lounging in gardens. There weren't so many people in the sea, as the beach there was rocks rather than sand.

There were water sports as well as people swimming and sunbathing. We think we were the only people not wearing swimsuits or skimpy shorts.

Richard wondered if we could find the place where we were taken by colleagues twenty-nine years ago when we first arrived in Cyprus. We worked out that it was Cape Greco, which was about fifteen minutes' drive away, in the direction of Larnaka. So we decided to go there, hoping that it would be quieter.

Cape Greco is rather a confusing place; we did go there another time with visiting family, but it seemed  different from the place we were taken to back in 1997.  And this time, it all looked different again. But we followed instructions from the phone, and found a somewhat bumpy road which started with an environmental centre and coffee shop. We noted that for the afternoon. 

It looked like there were tracks down to the beach as we drove slowly along. But there was no shade, and it was still too hot for me to walk very far. And there was nowhere to park. 

So we followed a small road that had a sign saying 'picnic area'. Google Maps didn't approve; it told us to make a U-turn at the top. But when we got to the top, we saw what we had hoped for:

There was a small area for parking, too. And as we got out of the car, we saw that there were a lot of cats:

I think about six of them are visible in that photo. There were many more.  They all looked fairly well-fed, and comfortable around people. They evidently thought we were a likely source of food.  But - other than one, which jumped on our chosen table - they behaved very well, milling around but not being a nuisance. 

While we ate our picnic, we were amused that at least four other vehicles drove slowly up to the parking area at the top of the hill, made U-turns, and returned the way they came. We surmised that Google Maps had given them the same instructions, and that, unlike us, they followed them. One couple did park and got out to take a walk; the cats deserted us and followed them for a while, until it was clear that they were not stopping to eat.

And yes, we did dole out a small amount of leftover meat to as many of the cats as we could.

After sitting for a while, we drove back to another parking place where we could see a small chapel. Richard took a couple of photos, but we didn't see any obvious way of getting to the beach. 

We didn't particularly want to get sandy anyway, by this point. And we wanted some coffee. So we drove to the environmental centre we had seen on the way in, which was attached to a small coffee shop. It even had oat milk available so we had some rather good frappés. 

Then we decided to look at the environmental centre itself. We had to pay two euros each (no discounts for seniors).  It wasn't huge, but had quite a bit of information about the local flora and fauna, with areas for school field trips.

I don't particularly like looking at stuffed animals and birds, but the displays were quite interesting: 

There was even a partial skeleton of a pygmy hippo:

And a good view of the area from a little window:

We probably only spent about twenty minutes in there, including reading some of the information displays, but it was pleasantly cool and very well-kept.  There was a small outdoor area with local plants, but it was in full sun, so we didn't walk there.

If we'd had more time - and if it hadn't been so warm, and if we'd taken more suitable clothes - we might have explored more and perhaps found the beach where we were taken all those years ago. We might also have found the famous sea caves, which we've never seen. 

So perhaps at some point we'll have a longer visit.  

Lefkara visit (Pano and Kato)

 When we first moved to Cyprus, we regularly took visitors to see the village of Lefkara - or, rather, Pano Lefkara, as it's officially called; Upper Lefkara, as we might say in English. It was a quiet village, a little way into the mountains, which specialised in what they called Lefkara lace. I wouldn't have called it lace myself, but it's certainly highly skilled, beautiful work - in tablecloths, cushion covers and more.

I wrote about some of our visits, including a few photos, in - for instance - this post, in 2006, and this one in 2007. At the time we wondered how long it would stay viable. There weren't many visitors, and every shop was full of Lefkara lace products which had taken many months to make. The prices were high - not unreasonably so for the amount of work, but much higher than we or most of our friends were prepared to pay. The shop owners were friendly, offering us refreshment, 'no obligation', and then pleading with us to buy something. We learned to resist; we were pretty sure we weren't really the first visitors of the year, or that nobody had bought anything that season. 

Sometimes Richard would take visitors while I stayed at home, to enjoy some peace and quiet. But I went again in 2009 when I was saddened to see that many of the shops had closed. And those that were still open had a higher percentage of other products - machine-made tablecloths and much more, which the shopkeepers rather despised. But they had to make a living somehow.

For some reason, we hadn't been for a while - or hadn't taken photos, anyway. Richard had been a couple of times with guests, and said that each time another shop seemed to be closed. It was almost becoming a ghost town.

But last week we decided to go by ourselves, on another day out to keep us away from our computers. We thought we'd visit Kato ('lower') Lefkara, somewhere I hadn't ever been. Richard had been a couple of times, doing some filming; he said it was very quiet with almost no shops, but we thought it would be a good place to walk, and hopefully a little cooler than places at sea level.

Parking was easy, and there were encouraging signs telling us of places of interest, including at least four chapels and a church. So we set off in what looked like the right direction for a former wine-making place, and a traditional fountain.  

We hadn't got far when we were greeted by a friendly man who was originally from Greece, but had made his home in Kato Lefkara as he liked the quiet. He was very chatty, and became our unofficial guide. He showed us the former wine-making place:

He told us about his travels, and pointed out some of the traditional buildings. His English was excellent and he admitted to speaking five languages in all. 

We did meet another visitor, a young woman from South America, who joined us on the unofficial tour. 

Not that there was a whole lot to see.

In all that time, we hadn't seen any of the other local residents, or any open shops. It really does seem like a traditional village, almost unchanged by the centuries.

Eventually we said goodbye to the friendly unofficial guide, and walked to the church.

It wasn't open, and seemed quite large for such a small population. There's a huge tree outside, which is perhaps its best-known feature:

Here's a better view of its sagging branches:

We took another route back to the car, and passed this, which seems to be the traditional fountain advertised as a tourist attraction:

Somewhat underwhelming, if so.  

We didn't find any of the chapels, but we did stop to appreciate some of the colourful plants:

We had been in Kato Lefkara for maybe forty-five minutes. It was enough. So we drove up to Pano Lefkara, wondering if there were going to be any shops left...

We were startled to see that the car park was almost completely full. We wondered if there was a festival of some kind, but there weren't any coaches - just lots and lots of cars.

We walked to what we think of as the 'main' street in Lefkara and were even more surprised to see crowds of people. It was hard to take photos without people's faces, so this really doesn't give the right feel to it. 

 The shops were full of brightly-coloured fabrics, as well as more 'touristy' products such as tee-shirts and cloth bags with Cyprus cats and a wide range of toiletries and jewellery - not the beautiful filigree silver that used to be made, but the kind of things sold in all the tourist spots.

It was quite interesting to stroll down, but neither of us was tempted even to go into any of the shops, though we did manage to point out several things we definitely wouldn't want! On the plus side, nobody came out to try and persuade us to buy things. Visitors were laden with carrier bags, so it appears that trade is now booming, even if no longer traditional. 

By this time we were ready for something to eat, so we found a restaurant that looked reasonably authentic and comfortable:

Unfortunately for me, the menu was very limited - mostly meat souvlaki, without even the option of halloumi. In the end I opted for a veggieburger, which, they assured me, was made with vegetables and not soya. It came with mini samosas, which mildly amused me as an unusual mix of cultures, as well as the inevitable chips. And while Richard's souvlaki had some salad, mine had none.

He did pass me his tsatziki, however, which made a good dip for the chips. Not that I finished that quantity! 

It wasn't unpleasant, but I'm not keen on white burger buns, and the chips were rather tasteless. I did like the samosas. And Richard very much enjoyed his lunch.

While we were eating, it started to pour with rain. We felt a few drops, then a roof rolled over the top, so at least we were dry. It was quite pleasant to sit there for a while... until people at another table started smoking. The front was still open so it was technically an outside area, but it was quite unpleasant.

However, as happens so often in Cyprus, the rain was heavy for ten or fifteen minutes, then stopped abruptly and the sun came out again. 

We set off in a different direction, and found a parallel street which was much quieter than the first, and which still had traditional shops with Lefkara lace and filigree silver. We felt quite nostalgic to see this notice outside one of the shops (which was closed - possibly for siesta time, but perhaps permanently):

The English says that it's 'one of the last famous workshops.' It offered free engraving and orders in silver. 

We were told years ago that the traditional craftspeople were all elderly, and that none of the younger generation were interested in carrying on the lace or silver-making.  So perhaps the shops in this quieter street are selling products made in former years.

But even in this street, the shop owners no longer came out to tempt us inside. There were no offers of coffee or lemonade, no appeals for custom. Perhaps they're now doing well enough that they don't need to be pushy any more. Perhaps they realised that it was counter-productive. Either way, it's another sign of the times changing.

Fifteen or more years ago, there were several women sitting outside shops, making the lace competently and rapidly. They would slow down to explain what they were doing, but then quickly returned to their work when questions stopped. 

This time we saw just one woman sitting with lace in her lap. She engaged passers-by in conversation, but we didn't see her actually doing any of the stitching. 

We stopped for coffee at a different restaurant. We were a bit shocked that they didn't have any non-dairy milk. So I had a latte with dairy milk, and Richard had a Cyprus 'medrio' (strong and sweet).  

It was a pleasant day out, and it was good to see that Pano Lefkara is evidently thriving, albeit at the expense of traditions. 

Kalavassos tenta and Choirokoitia village

 Now that we're both officially pensioners, and Richard is semi-retired, we decided we should have days out now and again. This is to ensure we stay away from our computers and get some fresh air, and also to see some parts of Cyprus that we hadn't previously explored. We compiled an initial list of places not too far from Larnaka that we would like to visit - or, in some cases, re-visit. 

Our first such outing was last Friday. Our intention was to visit a location we had seen fairly often from the highway, but had never actually been to. The 'tent' (or 'tenta') at Kalavassos. Maybe forty minutes' drive from our house. It was a nice day, if rather warmer than I like, and our car has pretty good air conditioning.

Our pronunciation of Greek is not great, but we usually manage to get the emphasis correct. So we knew we were heading for somewhere pronounced something like 'kalla-VASS-os'. Short 'a' sounds, emphasis on the third syllable.  We were mildly amused that Google Maps told us we were going to 'kuh-LAH-vuh-suss', with emphasis on the second syllable and something that sounded like 'lava' in the middle. 

This is what the 'tenta' looks like from the place where we parked:

The website told us that the entry is €2.50 per person; many sites offer half-price to senior citizens. However, the man in the little booth outside told us firmly that €2.50 was the price, so we paid up and went in. There was nobody else there, though a couple of other visitors did arrive before we left.

We were given tickets, and a leaflet:

It's not a huge site, and neither of us could be considered a history buff. But we decided to walk around slowly - it was, after all, in the shade. And we wanted to get our money's worth.

What we saw was the ruins of several small huts, which - according to the leaflet, and some of the information on the site - was excavated first in 1947, and then more throughly thirty or so years later. The date of the settlement is set as the 'Aceramic period', which I don't recall hearing of before, in the years 8200-5200 BC. Really very ancient!

However, my first random thought bore no relation to history: 'Aha! So THIS is is the origin of the secret to life, the world and the universe....'

We didn't find out why some (but not all) of the buildings have numbers, apparently at random. 

We were interested to learn that one of the walls had a painting, supposedly depicting two human figures with hands raised. This is what the official notification showed:

We found building 11, but couldn't see any evidence of the painting.

On the other hand, I saw what looked to me like a road sign image on the side of building 14...

We probably stayed for twenty minutes or so, appreciating the cool breeze, and also being glad that we were not around at this era in what looks like very cramped and uncomfortable houses. 

Our verdict: worth seeing once, and probably more interesting to people who are passionate about history. It took us 29 years to get around to visiting... and we're unlikely to go again. 

Next stop was Choirokoitia, which Google Maps didn't even attempt to say. I don't think we got it right, either. Suffice it to say that the first syllable is not said like the English word 'choir'. More like 'here', with a soft 'ch' sound at the start, as in the Scottish 'loch'.  

On the way we saw a children's playground with an old train, so we stopped and Richard got out to take some photos.

It was an old goods train, which obviously hasn't run for a long time, as Cyprus doesn't have any railways now. 

Not, of course, that it's anywhere near as old as the Kalavassos settlement...

It seems a bit dangerous to have it so close to a children's playground, as many children would be unable to resist climbing over the fence and exploring the train. But it's evidently been there for several decades; apparently the railway system in Cyprus came to an end in 1951.

After that brief digression, we drove another ten minutes or so to the Heritage site of Choirokoitia, which looked, at first glance, like a huge garden. 

There was a little information office, so we went in, and expected to have to pay another €5 for the privilege. I said we were retired, and the man behind the counter looked very suspicious. He asked to look at our passports, so we showed him our ID cards. He perused them carefully, then handed them back. We asked what we had to pay, and he told us it was free. 

We weren't going to argue. I suppose it's quite flattering that he thought we couldn't possibly be over 65...

It was noon by the time we were there, and while there was some shade, there wasn't much of a breeze and the temperature in the sun must have been about 32C. I don't do well in the heat. 

Still, we didn't have to go far to find an area that said it was reconstructed Neolithic houses. 

Richard went inside and looked at some of the information sheets. 

But I was feeling overheated, and sat down on a convenient stone in the shade.

Looking through the window hole of one of the huts showed a raised area - possibly a bed:

Somewhat rested, we found more shade and walked a bit further. Then there were some steps, which said they led to another Neolithic settlement - the actual one with ruins on which the reconstructed huts were based. 

Richard went ahead and I got slower and slower....

It was a good view, with Cyprus looking quite green for this time of year:

Unfortunately, it was clear that there were a lot more steps, not shaded at all:

Richard decided he didn't want to walk right up the hill in the sunshine, even though he deals a lot better with heat than I do. And we were both starting to get hungry.

Subsequent research suggests that the long, unshaded uphill walk might not be worth the effort, unless one is a serious fan of prehistory, or likes climbing stairs in the sun. Apparently there is another ruined settlement which is much like the Kalavassos one. 

So we left the site.

Verdict: the reconstructed huts were interesting, and it looked as if it would be quite pleasant to walk around the park/garden area. But as there were notices saying that nothing should be touched or climbed upon, and that children must be with an adult at all times, it's not somewhere I'd want to take lively children. It's probably not somewhere we're likely to want to visit again. Then again, if for some reason we were in the area on a cooler/shadier day, we might explore it a bit more, if we can, once again, get in free.

Next we drove to find a taverna which Richard had seen advertised online. It wasn't easy to find: it was hidden right behind another playground. 

But although there wasn't much on the menu, and no other customers there, the owners were very friendly (and spoke fairly good English).

It was quite attractive, too, and shady, with a pleasant breeze. 

We had no idea what portion sizes would be like but the prices were reasonable. We ordered a Greek salad to share (which turned out to be huge!), and the 'dish of the day' for Richard. It was supposedly stuffed vine leaves, though it turned out to be stuffed vegetables - he didn't find any vine leaves. I always prefer to eat vegetarian food when we're out, so I asked for halloumi - which came after the rest, and was just accompanied by some warm toasted pitta pieces.

It was a lot of food. When we'd eaten as much as we could manage, we were offered a take-away box so we filled that with the rest of the salad, half of the halloumi and most of the pitta. 

It was a good day out, despite the heat, and hopefully the precursor to more outings around the island... if we remember.