Day 5 Lefkosia  (Nicosia)

The sun beamed with an early morning call from Ginny and Harri. Then it was a quick breakfast and a not so quick dive into the blog to catch up on the Tuesday night doings. Meanwhile Johnny went down to the supermarket to get a supply of pegs to hand out the day's washing. 

This time we had a definite plan that included a drive to Lefkosia to see some of the exhibitions in the Museum of Cyprus. It was an easy run to the Cyprian capital. The land changed once we crossed the central mountain range, with the landscape flattening and increasing signs of food cultivation.

As we approached the city, to the left we saw signs of the national rift that had torn the country apart. In the distance, on land seized by the Turks during the 70's war, they had carved an enormous Turkish flag into the hillside. "This is our land now" they seemed to shout.  

Finding parking was a doddle thanks to Britt and her google research. Lefkosia had a Canberra feel, with its wide boulevards and stately buildings. It seemed a well ordered and prosperous place.

The museum was a treasure trove and Britt was soon snapping away as she gathered inspiration for her future pottery work. 

This European island changes nationality twice a year

We followed around a large Italian cultural tour group that seemed to have an inexhaustible appetite for knowledge. After an hour, I felt I'd learnt and seen enough and went outside for a call to Helen. I needed knowledge.. not about Cyprian artefacts, but about our rellos' names and relationships to one another. 20 minutes later, I was all over it, having produced a complicated illustration of everyone and their relationships to one another. "Xenia, I'm ready for you", I said smugly. Let's see if I'm right.

We headed towards the old town and came across something that looked like the green line as two sides of the same building bristled with the Turkish and the Cyprian flags. We walked through what I think was the Paphos Gate into the old town right next to the dividing line. The area looked mostly dusty and depopulated. What looked like a disused UN post looked forlornly over the scene. 

The centre of the Greek Cyprian side of the divided capital looked more robust, with a busy commercial centre and tourists mingling. Britt again searched out a place for lunch and it was buzzing and brilliant. The Italians had got there before us but we pounced on an empty table. We had a non meat selection of grilled mushrooms, saganaki, salad, zucchini omelette and warm pita bread. We washed it down with a beer. Perfect lunch!

We headed towards a church district all decked out in Greek flags. It looked all set up for some celebration. The upcoming Easter festivities, I imagined. The church was serenely quiet, but a psalti (chorister) could be heard going over his incantations in the distance.

We wanted to get to the Ledra checkpoint that would allow us to cross into the Turkish territory. There was a pointless passport check by the Cypriots and another one by the Turks 30 metres later. We emerged into a market of food and knock off goods. 

Beyond the market tat, we found the Turkish cultural centre, Buyuk Han. The building looked beautiful but was again filled with small studios selling "crafts" that was really just more tat as far as I was concerned. 

We soon returned to the Greek Cyprian side and sought out somewhere for coffee and a rest.

The day had been a tiring one, and we decided to set off for home as it was already late afternoon. In the walk back to the car we found a rather lovely sunken garden that seemed to surround the massive stone walls that stood as testament to the original footprint of the city many centuries earlier. It turned out to be Eleftheria Square.

In Trimiklini, no day is complete without a stop at Sigma bakery. This time we picked up a tray of pasticho and some feta laden Greek salad. No desserts were needed thanks to the sweet haul that Toulla sent Johnny home with the night before. 

Big day tomorrow! Our big boy turns 3 and the Reynard group will be heading to the airport, bound for Portugal. 

 Day 4 Limassol

It was a relaxed start to the day, beginning with a catch up call to Ginny and Harri, then breakfast at home. I'm really loving the crunchy muesli with fresh strawberries.

Soon we were on the road to Limassol, but thought it best if we check out the venue for tonight's catch up with all the relatives. Google took us all around the back streets but we did find it, no problem.

Then we drove to the port area of Limassol with the vague plan of touring the castle and old town. The marina was gleaming with expensive yachts. One was called Happy Wife and Happy Life. It was for sale. Looks like wife was not happy.

The old town was interesting and full of tiny spaces with studios and other artistic pursuits. We briefly went into a photography studio to see the work of a female photographer. It was about 10.30 and the streets were curiously empty. The restaurants were open but lacking patrons. We took the opportunity to visit the pharmaceutical museum. This was of particular interest to John, who is, after all, a plant and machinery valuer.

 

John and I popped into the cathedral, which was in an area that is being redeveloped. It looks like it will house high end shops and residences in a couple of years.

We found our way to the sea front and walked a short distance along the Molos, to a cafe for the obligatory coffee and berry smoothie for me. The sun was shining and the sea was a glorious ultramarine.

We worked our way back to the castle which also serves as a museum and took in the views across the city from the rooftop. 

Lunch was in one of the many restaurants that surround the castle. The area was buzzing now with tourists and local ladies doing lunch. The atmosphere had changed completely. Wary of having a big lunch before a big dinner with our relatives, we all opted for salads of various sorts. Even these were enormous and we left some behind. A family of cats helped me to finish off a chicken salad. They were quite picky, leaving behind and ends that were too tough for them. 

We could hear a marching band playing and followed the music. It was a police band with a police escort of three police on bikes. They were heading to meet up with a group of young women that were raising money for a cancer project. There was some sort of ceremony with professional photographers recording the event.

After a walk back through the marina, we headed home for a rest before going out for the evening.

After what seemed like a very short rest we charged out again for Kato Polemidia, and Maria's Souvlaki restaurant. The food started to arrive. Toulla invited us out for dinner with all the family at her brother Pano's  place. Cousin Pano was so pleased to see us. Sheftalies, gyro. dips, breads and all the Cyprian fare was brough in large quantity. Even more exciting than the food was the stream of rellos that began to arrive. There was of course, Andrew, Nicoletta and Marianna. There was Xenia and her daughters. There were Xenia's grandchildren and sons in law. Then another uncle and wife arrived after finishing a late shift at work. We felt proper special. I felt terrified as I dredged up any Greek I could summoned to explain and ask my way through the night. Eventually the questions got trickier with me being asked about distant Australian Cypriot rellos and their health and whereabouts. I looked like a proper dunce when I had no idea. I was so grateful for Danae's and Lefki's occasional translations but even that did not help at times.

Yes, there were more invitations to meet more rellos on Saturday afternoon and a plan was hatched to ditch the Sunday trip to Lania market and in its place a big rello convoy to Morphou for a special church service. What completely lovely open hearted people. It was close to midnight before we all disappeared into the darkness of the car park and we have no idea why but Johnny left carrying four large boxes of all the left over sweets.

Luckily the road home had barely a car on it and we were soon home and in bed.