Cyclists across borders

Cyclists Across Barriers

Cycle trip Karpaz to Akamas, Paphos, Cyprus 16 - 25 April 2010

Arrival: Thursday 15 April 2010; arrive late afternoon at Golden Sands Beach, Karpaz. Overnight stay at Big Sands café; camping or beach huts
Tel 0533 865 3488 to book bed (tbb)

Cycling Days:

Day 1. Friday 16th April; 25km cycle from Apostolos Andreas Monastery to Dipkarpaz/Rizokarpaso. Various options to stay.

Day 2. Saturday 17th April; 40km to Kumyali/Koma tou Yialou.
Camping or Notovikla Garden Hotel. Tel:05428517781 (tbb); hotel also hires bikes.

Day 3. Sunday 18th April; 36km to Kaplica/Davlos
Camping or rooms at Kaplica restaurant. Tel:0090 392 387 2031(tbb)

Day 4. Monday 19th April; 53km to Alagadi Beach. Camping

Day 5. Tuesday 20th April; 20km to Bella Bais/Girne/Kyrenia. Various options to stay

Day 6. Wednesday 21st April; 49km from St Hilarion to Guzelyurt/Morfou.
Guzelyurt Hotel (tbb) 0533 861 8973

Day 7. Thursday 22nd April; 35km from Morfou to Kalopanagiotis.
PEO TU apartments Tel: 00357 2286 6405 or 00357 99875 655
St Androniki apartments Tel:00357 99646 151

Day 8. Friday 23rd April; 46km to Stavros tis Psokas: Rooms/cabins/camping 00357 2600 1858 and food (orders early day before) 00357 99 425 822

Day 9. Saturday 24th April; 20km to Lysos
Paradise Hills Hotel Tel: 00357 2632 2287 or various hotels and camping in Polis 12km downhill to the sea.

Day 10. Sunday 25th April; 40km to Akamas, and back to Latchi port nr Polis by boat. Various options to stay


If you would like updates or to join all or part of the cycle trip contact:
Aydin Mahmet Ali: 0090 5338606174 or 00357 99958812
Andreas Michaelides: 00357 96781672

May 1st

Our cycle trip, 367km in all, is done and dusted…and we live to tell the tale. We were a Magnificent Seven, Four have already returned to the UK and we may not meet again for a while; but the journey will be well remembered by all of us for a long time to come.

Florian…30 years old and the youngest of the group, was the only one to cycle every kilometre of the way. Some others would have liked to but five of us had to share the driving of our support truck. Florian had been looking for adventure since he gave up his job some months ago, and this one has got him off to a good start. The best bike mechanic, we relied on him for adjusting brakes, gears etc
Andreas, Sabrina, and Aydin ….. the seniors, with Andreas the oldest, at 67. The chief organisers for the trip. Slower up the hills but nothing was impossible with our great 21 gear bikes
Doreen,…63, and a bit of a novice to cycling. (wasn’t sure she could put out an arm for a turn right hand signal!) She was a great main-stay in driving the support truck but also cycled part way most days. By the last day she was whizzing down hills with the best of us.
Lindsey…. 45, a strong cyclist and reluctant driver; she cycled all but 19km. She was riding for sponsorship to a dog and cat sanctuary in Cyprus. Kept the group laughing with her ready wit, and did the camera work
Ariane….40 and 5’3’’, a little one but with strong thighs! Always there to make sure that stuff was loaded on the truck, food was bought and generally oiling the organising wheels.

The journey
Starting at the Eastern tip of Cyprus, we spent the first two days cycling down the long thin panhandle of the island. This peninsula is only a few kilometres wide, and even when cycling in an inland valley, the sea is constantly appearing between gaps in the low hills. It’s wild, uncultivated land, with few villages, and even fewer cars. A joy to cycle through.
On the third day we crossed from the South to the North coast, through a low pass in the rocky spine of Northern Cyprus, the Kantara mountains, This end of Cyprus is much scarred by new giant roads currently under construction. On this day we were unable to avoid them, and had to wrap our faces up against the dust and grit for a 10km descent to the Northern coast. In both North and South Cyprus, road building is an obsession. We found there was much local opposition –there was no fault to be found with the existing roads, so why spend millions on new ones that eat up the countryside?

Day 4 found us cycling along the beautiful northern coast to Alagadi, Turtle Bay. As the name suggests, this is where turtles come to lay their eggs. We set up camp in the sand dunes behind the beach, but then found the gates to the beach locked for the night, and the beach café closed and unlit, because it’s the turtle mating season. Some of us woke before dawn and crept down to the beach, hoping to catch the turtles in action. Nothing doing, but we noticed that a very bright light lit up the beach from the nearby oil refinery, enough to disorientate every turtle coming that way.Oh dear, not much joined up thinking going on there.

We continued along the northern coast the next day to the busy port of Kyrenia. We were now into a heavily populated area, littered by half-built, unoccupied villas and hotels. We had no choice but to ride the main road. Although our route was short, only 19km, it wasn’t a pleasant journey. We kept our support truck close behind us for safety, as vehicles were fast moving, and of course traffic piled up behind us. Every now and then we had to pull in to let a queue of cars and big trucks pass us. All our anxieties and tiredness evaporated when we reached the Bellapais Monastery Village, a luxurious holiday complex, and we were honoured guests. We enjoyed our first hot shower since Day 1, and an evening meal with Ozbek and his daughter Tulip. Ozbek (Ozzie to his friends) runs a travel agency and is keen to promote cycling in Northern Cyprus, so we had plenty to talk about.

Day 6 was our last full day in Northern Cyprus, and was The Day of Disasters. This was to be a long days cycling, with over 50km to ride, But first we had a lavish breakfast at the Village and a photoshoot with the press on Kyrenia’s very pretty old harbour. Our starting point for the day’s cycling was to be St Hilarion Castle, high on the hill behind Kyrenia. The only access to it is the main Kyrenia/Levkosia road, which appears to go almost vertically up the mountain. No choice but to ferry cycles, cyclists and luggage up the hill to St Hilarion and we didn’t get on our bikes until the sun was hot, at 2pm.

Once we got going the route was sublime, riding high along the rocky Kantara ridge, with spectacular views down to the northern coast, and then to the southern plain, Levkosia city in the distance. We stopped for a picnic lunch mid-afternoon and then…locked the truck keys inside the truck. We were in an area dominated by the Turkish army; in fact travelling on the only permitted road, with the nearest village 10km distant.. We stared through the windows at the keys on he seat, in disbelief at our collective stupidity. What to do? Lots of things….Lindsey cycled off to the village to get help; Aydin rang a garage in Levkosia, and Florian looked at possibilities for breaking into the truck without damaging it. Then the army chaps appeared, and obviously wanted us to be moving on. The truck was duly broken into (and damaged); we waited, and paid for, the mechanic from Levkosia, and finally got going, catching up eventually with a lonesome Lindsey. In the hazy distance, far across the plain, and through a gap in even more distant hills, we could see our destination for the day, Morphou/Guzelyurt.

After a whirligig descent from the ridge, the sun sinking low, we stopped at Kozan village coffee shop to assess the situation. It would be dark soon; we had only a couple of bike lights between us and several kilometres still to go, 10 of them on a severely potholed road. We decided that we would have to part ride, part ferry. At last, we all arrived, hungry, cold and late at the Guzelyurt Hotel, whose staff didn’t seem to remember that they were expecting us. Nevertheless, they made us welcome, helped us unload our many bags and bicycles and ordered us take away pizzas.

Next morning we were tired, not quite ready for another long day, but made sure that we got off to an early start. Ahead of us was a border crossing to the Republic of Cyprus and a long haul up the foothills and slopes of the Troodos mountains. The border crossing was a non-event; there is very little through traffic here and only a couple of officials on duty. Our alternative passports/a white piece of paper with the N. Cyprus logo were duly stamped and we passed through. Up to this point Aydin had been our interpreter and fixer, and from now on it was Andreas’ honour. Our first night on the Greek-speaking side was to be at the mountain village of Kalopaniotis. The Cypriot trade union PEO have apartments, ‘workers rest homes’ here but the season had not yet started. They were very supportive of our aims and kind enough to offer us free accommodation, opening up just for us. As always, there were great kebab-making facilities, but no outside lighting. We sat in some state, on the terrace, and ate our kebabs by the light of our head torches. They could not have tasted better.

We were now well over half way, 750m high and confident of our ability to finish the course. Everything from now on was well known territory to Andreas and Sabrina, but so much more interesting and beautiful when experienced from the seat of a bicycle. A hard uphill pedal next day took us to /m and Kykkos Monastery, where we lunched. With the euro riding high, prepared food is now very expensive on the south side of Cyprus, so we mixed and matched fresh salads from the monastery café with tasty things we had bought earlier. Then on, following the contours of the massive Troodos hills, to the Forest Station of Stavros Psokas.

When researching places to stay on route we had been unable to locate any official camp sites, either in north or south of the island. We had all brought tents, mats and sleeping bags and wanted to use them. As it turned out, most of our night stops did have quite decent camping possibilities. But at Stavros, the senior 4 opted for the Residence, a typical colonial brick bulding, built by the Brits in 1947. It was a Saturday night and turned out to be a fortuitous choice. Whilst we slept in silent forested splendour, the campers, Ariane, Linsey and Florian, were kept awake by a rowdy group of Cypriot teenagers who partied late into the night. (and they had the cold showers). No matter, we were now in striking distance (19km) of Lysos, and a gentle morning’s cycling brought us into that very familiar place, with time enough in the afternoon for a descent to the eucalyptus beach and a cool swim.

And so to our last, triumphant day. The last few kilometres, through the Akamas, is a wild nature reserve, with rough dirt roads. The plan was to cycle down to Polis and exchange our road bikes for mountain bikes, and, when we reqched the island's end, arrange a boat ride back to Latchi, with bikes.. However, when we arrived at the cycle shop we found that our hirer had got cold feet -perhaps the winter storms had destroyed the road completely, and he would have to come out personally to rescue his bikes. So, quick revision of plans...we would ride our road bikes to Baths of Aphrodite, where the tarmac ends, and then walk the rest of the way. This we did, and then arranged a pick-up by boat back the the Baths. A suitbaly exciting finish, as George's boat turned out to be a little speed-boat, which he raced back at top speed. And finally, bubbly on the terrace of the Bths of Aphrodite cafe.

Anything after that was going to be an anticlimax, but laying about on the beaches for the next couple of days wasn't too hard to bear. Would we do it again?...you bet.

Half way across Cyprus -20th April 2010

Dear children, grnadchildren and friends

Here we are, in the lap of luxury in the Bellepais Garden Hotel, overlooking Kyrenia, and with the rocky Kantara mountains behind us. This is the first time in 5 days that we have had access to internet and a warm shower, and its lovely!

But lets start at the beginning....WE picked up out hire bikes in Polis for Ariane, Andreas, Lindsey and Doreen. , Aydin, Florian , and Sabrina have their own . They have all turned out to be brilliant and have travelled the 175km so far with only minor adjustments needed. All those 21 gears have been working hard up and down the hills, and barely had us sweating. But first we had to get them to the other end of Cyprus to our cycling start point. This took a whole day, and we didn't arrive until after dark. It's very early in the season for hotel openings....and after the excitenet of getting ready and off it was a real downer to find the little beach hut encampment in complete darkness.

Oh dear, where to go in this most remote tip of Cyprus? Then across the bay we spotted a little light and set off down a bumpy track to find 'Hassan's turtle beach' - a little makeshift cafe with wooden beach huts in the sand dunes. Hassan himself appeared and made us at home at once. (turned out he lived in Clapton for several years but now enjoys a rather idyllic-looking beach existence). Next morning we see it in all it's glory. A long board walk leading down to the sea; a raised sheltered platform with tables and chairs set out for breakfast, and that's all in a huge bay of sandunes rolling down to the sea. What a fantastic place to start from. We all wanted to stay longer, but we had cycling to do. So...as the sun rose high and hot in the sky we set off.

We posed first for a group photograph at Apostolos Andreas monastery, and set off for short day's cycling, 20 km. All of us, except Aydin,who had cycled this first section of the route before, were pretty nervous about whether we would be able to do the distances planned. We had seen the terrain we plaaned to cycle thru on our first two days on the journey in the truck andit looked long and hilly. However, we felt alot better after day one, having mastered the bikes and the ups and downs in the most beautiful seaside scenery.

At the end of our first day we had reached Dipkarpaz, a little backwater of a town, dominated by the army. It's has an usual claim to fame though. After the turkish invasion in 1974, the greek cypriot villagers refused to leave. There were 6000 then, but this has dwindled down to only a few hundred now. Andreas and Sabrina walked down to their coffee bar/taverna early next morning and had a coffee with a few of the early risers.

Our second day was a longer ride, around 40km, continuing along the narrow pan-handle of the island. Riding was leaisurely and easy, except for one big hill near the end. Doreen has the least cycly expereince of the group, and had t be coaxed onto her bike on the first day. Now she had gained confidence and was thoroughly enjoying the ride. She has howecver remained as our main driver of the truck, as she cant quite manage the longer distances...and that has been very nice for the rest of us
We arrived at the tiny fisher port of Cumiali/Koma tou Yialou expecting to stay or camp at the little training hotel by the sea. Unfortunately our arrangements failed as the caretaker was not there and the hotel was shut! We found refuge by the beach in front of another deserted restaurant and camped there. The swim was glorious after our first long journey. Our quest for a restaurant in the village resulted in the group spltting up but still both having a lovely meal. The night was full of the sounds of fishing boats litterally trying to take off, peacocks singing and when the cockrels started we realised it wss nearly morning. The ealry swim cured everything and restored the body for the 36km to Kaplica/Davlos. The preprepared muesli lovely was a nurishing breakfast as was the lovely coffee at Nitovikla, a restored Inn The owner Kaisir Bey was very interested in our ride offering to sponsor one of the day rides from Dipkarpaz/Rizokarpaso to his little village with drinks by the pool and a full reception and a welcome by the village Mayor.

CYCLING ACCROSS BARRIERS

11th April 2010

Andreas and I arrived in Cyprus a week ago. We have spent most of that time, with our friend Aydin, making arrangements for and going over our cycle route. We will be cyclng 300km over ten days, starting from the Eastern tip and ending at the Western end.The first six days will take us along the coasts and mountain ridges of Northern Cyprus; the final four days skirting the mountains and along the coast of Southern Cyprus.

Until this week I hadn't realised just how unusual a venture this will be. And here begins a very brief history of the current situation for those too young to know about this divided island

Ever since it became colonised by Turkey, as part of the Ottoman Empire, Cyprus has been populated by people of two ethnic origins -greek and turkish. Due to the events of the past, people's pride in their ethnic roots and different religious practices there has been little inter-marriage in the intervening 500 years; and greek and turkish cypriots have remained as two distinct ethnic groups. They have lived and worked side by side, usually amiably. But there have been ethnic tensions and outbreaks of violence -much of which has been blamed on the British, who were the colonial power on the island between 1878 and 1960.

All that changed in 1974 when the Turkish army invaded Cyprus, and a line was drawn from east to west, dividing the island in two. Greek cypriots were pushed into the south side; turkish cypriots into the North and the 'Green line' was uncrossable. For older cypriots the tragedy was lost homes and land, lost communities and livelihoods. For the young, the tragedy is that they never knew their fellow countrymen and women. Andreas' neice Irini met turkish cypriots for the first time when she came to study in London.

About five years ago, after long negotiations, the borders were opened a crack; a crack that has been slowly widening as new border crossings are opened and restrictions on visits are relaxed. But bitterness remains on both sides and many cypriots don't take the opportunity to cross over. Someof Andreas' relatives live within spitting distance of the Green Line but has never crossed over. The hurt is too deep. For some cypriots it would be little short of treachery to go over and enjoy the countryside and hospitality of the other side. Not surprising then that a cycle ride which determinedly sets out to cross borders should be planned by two cypriots who have lived outside Cyprus for most of their lives. And our wildest dreams are that it starts something bigger; an annual ride which becomes a popular event; new connections, new friendships. All you reading the blog, and who can ride a bike, might like to join us next year!

Back to the cycle trip. We have hired bikes and Hadjicostis- a cousin of Andreas- is lending us his diplokambino ( a little truck that seats five people and can carry bikes and luggage in the open back.)Four friends, Ariane, Lindsey, Doreen and Florian, will fly out from the UK to join us this Thursday and we will travel next day to our starting point, Apostolos Andreas. The monastery is right at the end of the long thin Eastern peninsula, on the Northern side. It's pretty much in ruins now, although the church itself is maintained by a few devoted greek cypriots. One of Andreas' earliest memories is the long bus ride fron Nicosia with his parents, carrying a candle as tall as himself, to plead the assistance of Apostolos Andreas for his recovery from whooping cough.

We have already checked out our route through North and South by car, and are putting out the route information through a few journalist contacts, inviting others to join us. We have no idea if any will, as it's all quite last minute. The route takes us thru some fabulous scenery. Although we will only be riding on average 30km a day we feel a little daunted as very little is on the flat. The presence of the little diplokambino is a very comforting thought. Our great adventure starts on 15th April. We may be far from internet conctions for awhile, but will try and keep you posted, and hope that you'll write something back in the blog reply section. We love knowing that you exist!

Back to Greece

May 29th -June 2nd
The day before we left Selchuk the swallows learned to fly and the nest was left empty. Time for us to leave Turkey -goodbye to storks, frogs, swallows and stray cats and dogs; all seem to find a kindly home in Selchuk. Also cheap, interesting food, excellent public transport, good beaches and impressive ancient sites -no wonder Turkey is the favourite Med destination. Many of our own prejudices have faded, altho we took care not to hire bikes, and left most of the negotiating to Aydin.

Traffic between the Greek isands and Turkey is minimal despite their proximity. There is one small boat from Kusadasi to Samos each day. It was Aydin's birthday, so she symbolically crossed the great divide by celebrating in both countries...and we supped on cool white whine, cake and strawberries on the boat. Samos was to be a final stopping place before returning home from Mykonos, but ferry timetables dictate otherwise and we have spent 4 days here and are now leaving for the island of Naxos. We stayed here at Pension Dreams, a place we know from last year's travels. This year we had the 'penthouse' with huge rooftop balcony and fabulous views over Vathi harbour. For a combination beach/walking holiday it Samos cannot be bettered. Its very green, mountainous and relatively unspoiled.

We spent a long morning on one of the 'no dress code' beaches. Lots of very brown, mainly elderly naked people stretched out like seals on the sunbeds; a young man (dressed) provided massage services. We planned a long walk for yesterday along the western coast...it nearly killed us. The scenery is stunning but the map failed to show just how steep the climb up was from the last beach to the village of Drachei (Dragon Village, aptly named). There could be no slacking as there was only one bus back to Vathi...and it only went on Mondays!

Ancient greek gateway to mediaeval town of Naxos




Mykonos sunset; pigeon house and church

We watched Aydin leave on the boat back to Kusadashi this morning, waving from our rooftop balcony. Our, much larger, boat leaves at lunchtime, for the island of Naxos. Naxos, another lovely island, which we enjoyed very much last year. Two days here, burnishing our sun tans, before our final hop to Mykonos, and a plane home on June 5th.

London looks grey, the weather is grey, and we've missed the EU elections by a couple of days. The news is also gloomy - Labour under seige with only 16% of the vote, and 2 BNP characters voted into the Euro parliament. And we find we've missed weeks of media scandalising over MP's expenses. Thank goodness!

The Aegean coast

20-26th May
Bodrum: we saw, and we left as soon as we could. Coasts whıch must have been entırely natural untıl very recently are now covered by hundreds of lıttle whıte house-boxes, clımbıng up the hıllsıde. But Turkey ıs huge and ıts not hard to get away from these excrescences. We hıred a car and decıded to explore just a few hundred kılometers goıng up the Aegean coast, but not huggıng ıt.

Away from the coast the landscape ıs rıch and varıed. Lakes, marshes, forests and cultıvated land. One mornıng we were passıng through sılver grey lımestone mountaıns, and a few hours later we were walkıng through gıgantıc 40-50 foot boulders of granıte at the foot of whole mountaıns of granıte. We stopped for a few days on the edge of the Dıkel nature reserve. There was just one pensıon on the edge of a small vıllage, Dogenbey, and we had ıt to ourselves. Through the bedroom wındow at the back a meadow full of wıld flowers came rıght uop to the house, always full of crested larks; from our front patıo we watched thıs lıttle world go by -men and women on tractors, 3 lıttle boys rıdıng a mule, a boy takıng the cow out to the pasture, stout women ın tradıtıonal patterned pantoloons -usually carryıng somethıng heavy. We would wave a say good mornıng/afternoon but our greetıngs were usually studıously ıgnored. Thıs surprısed us as untıl now everyone we met had been so frıendly and helpful. Then we dıscovered that our pensıon used to be a house of ıll repute -perhaps that was ıt! In thıs remote area we met 'settlers', whose parents and grandparents had been vıctıms of the 'populatıon exchanges' ın the 1920's. From the newspapers we have been readıng ıt seems that thıs has at last been recognısed for waht ıt was -ethnıc cleansıng on a grand scale. People of Turkısh orıgın who lıved ın greece, the balkans and places whıch had been part of the Ottoman empıre further afıeld were moved en mass back to Turkey, and non-turks lıvıng ın Turkey moved out. We have seen loads of Koreans, Russıans ,Antıpodeans and other foreıgners...but they,re all tourısts lıke us.

Andreas had a nasty bout of flu and tummy bug and felt rather under the weather. Swıne fever, we wondered, but then he recovered and we decıded ıt was tıme to move on. We had spent tıme wonderıng round some magnıfıcent ancıent Greek and Roman sıtes at Dıdyma. Mıletus and Prıene, and had enjoyed a varıety of wıldlıfe that had us jumpıng up and down wıth excıtement. Now we wanted to see the most famous sıte of all, at Ephesus, so we drove up to Selcuk, a beautıful lıttle town just 3 km from the sıte. Although a workıng towm, loads of people come here, to see Ephesus and the other sıtes around that are connected wıth the apostles. There hundreds of lıttle hotles and pensıons and we were spoıt for choıce. We fınally settled ınto the Australıan Guest House, wehıch must be ın guıdebooks the world over as ıt attracts an ınternatıonal crowd, and provıdes everythıng a traveller could want.
fledgling swallows peep over their nest to watch us

In the corner outsıde our bedroom door there's a swallows nest, and three lıttle heads peer out of the top as we unlock the door. At nıght one of the parents sleeps on the lıght fıttıng ın the hall, and shıts on the lampshade. A lıttle cardbox box ın the corner catches the droppıngs from the nest, and we have to take care not to put a foot ınto ıt. Selchuk ıs also home to dozens of storks. We got excıted when we saw the fırst one saılıng through the sky. Then we realısed that there are nests on anythıng resemblıng a turret -on chımneys, telegraph poles, on old mınarets and on the remaıns of the old Roman aquaducts. They look exactly as you see them ın ıllustratıons -standıng on one leg ın bıg untıdy nests that look as ıf they mıght collapse any mınute.

Ephesus has been occupıed sınce 6000BC but waht remaıns ıs mostly Roman archıtecture. It has the reputatıon of beıng the most complete hellenıc/roman town ın the world, and goıng around ıt you can certaınly get a feel of how the town may have looked and worked. At the centre the town market place, wıth publıc latrınes to one sıde, a most ımpressıve pubıc lıbrary, the publıc baths and a couple of temples. Then the maın streets off, wıth the remaıns of arcades, shops and a couple of quıte grand houses. And then of course the grand semı-cırcular amphıtheatre set ınto the hıll. We sat on seats half way up the theatre (whıch was buılt for 25,000 audıence) and ımagıned the day when St Paul stood on the stage and denounced the old relıgıons. The enraged crowd shouted 'long lıve Artemıs' for three hourş accordıng to the records, and Paul had to leave the cıty forthwıth. The larger than lıfe statues of Artemıs are stıll ın the Ephesus museum. She was an ımpressıve multı-breasted goddess, clearly descended from the more ancıent earth godesses whıch had been revered fro thousands of years.
young russian women posing at Pammukale

limestone ponds at Pammukale

Yesterday we took an organısed tour to Pammukale for a very dıfferent kınd of experıence. From a dıstance we saw what looked lıke whıte scarrıng of the hıllsıde that ıs often made by quarrıes. But on closer ınspectıon ıt,s a huge natural waterpark created from lımetone whıch has drıpped down the sıde of the hıll ın sheets, water stıll flowıng over them, and formıng natural pools of mılky pale blue water. It,s an amazıng sıght,all sparklıng whıte, and of course there were coach loads of sıte-see-ers arrıvng at the same tıme as us. Shoes must be taken off, and you start to walk down through a serıes pools. You can feel the mood change of the crowd...soon clothes were shed and everyone was wadıng ınto the pools and posıng for photos. We sat for a long tıme ın one pool, rubbıng whıte mud over our bodıes and gazıng over to the snow-clad mountaıns ın the dıstance. At the top of the hıll, just above the pools, was yet another ancıent greek/roman town. They ınvarıably pıck the most fantastıc locatıons, but thıs one has to beat them all.

Today Aydın ıs sufferıng from a stmach upset...so we,re takıng ıt easy...perhaps a trıp to the beach thıs afternoon.

Kos because

14th-18th May

We left Rhodes on the mornıng ferry...arrvıng on the long ısland of Kos around lunchtıme. From varıous reports we were not expectıng much...and would perhaps stay a day or two before takıng another ferry to Turkey. From the free for for all scrum between arrıvers and room touts we found ourselves beıng whısked away to the opther sıde of the harbour to a scrupulously clean lıttle hotel. The famıly runnıng ıtturned out to be ethnıc turks..now a very small mınorıty stıll lıvıng ın Kos. They were surprısed and delıghted to fınd that Aydın was also turkısh.(altho there was a dıstıct lowerıng of the voıce when orıgıns were under dıscussıon. They lıke to call themselves Greek Muslıms rather than ethnıc turks) They promısed use of a kıtchen as part of the deal. Thıs turned out to be use of theır famıly kıtchen. Next mornıng we walked back down to the harbour and bought fısh that had just been brought ın by the lıttle fıshıng boats. Much of the catch was stıll gaspıng for breath...I felt more lıke throwıng them back ın the water than eatıng them!

We found Kos dıdn't at all lıve down to ıts reputatıon -ıts a lovely place. Most of the holıday makers are Dutch/German/Belgıum and just about everyone saunters along on dutch-style bıkes...whıch suıted us well. The Aegean ıs a very earthquake and volcano prone area...and Kos ıs no exceptıon. We found a beach overshadowed by huge clıffs of tortured rocks...fed by a hot sprıng. We were able to lıe ın hot sulphurous water on the edge of the beach and then swım out ınto the cold sea- the same effect on the body as a sauna and very nıce. We reserved one day fro a trıp to the tıny ısland of Nıssyros. Appraochıng ıt by boat...the shape of the ısland was a great ump wıth a dent ın the mıddle. A bus took us to the centre of the ısland...whıch was one huge sunken crater. We walked down ınto one of the mınıcrater -not so mını..about 300m wıde..and here the earth's crust ıs just a few ınches thıck. Steam ıssued from the brıght yellow rocks around us and boılıng mud bubbled up around our feet wıth lıttle pock-pock noıses..and the pungent smell of sulphur made ıt a memorable experıence...and a remınder that whatever we do to the earth's clımate...ıt has no ımpact on these great natural forces.

We then walked back across the mountaın/crater rım arrıvıng back just ın tıme to catch our boat back to Kos. Closely tımed as there was no more boats for a few days. Kos ıs also the bırthplace of Hıppocrates so we took the opportunıty to cycle up to Asclepıos -a hellenıc sıte dedıcated to the god of health. It's one of those ancıent sıtes whıch has been partıally reconstructed -ın thıs case by the Italıans ın the 1920s-and to very good effect. Huge staırcases take you up ın stages..fırst to the ruıns of the grand entrance..across the maın arena and then up to to two temples and fınally to the grand temple at the top. The Greeks are very good at maıntaınıng theır ancıent sıtes...leavıng the areas between stones and around the sıte to nature. The whole sıte seemed alıve wıth bırds..bees...flowers and ınterestıng trees...and the vıews over the sea and dıstant shores stunnıng. A fıttıng epıtaph to the ancıent greek who must have the greatest ınfluence to thıs day...as doctors world wıde stıll take the hıppocratıc oath.

At last we turned our attentıon to gettıng to Turkey...and took an early mornıng ferry to Bodrum. Bodrum...the latest hot destınatıon for package tour Brıts. We found a place to stay...consıderably cheaper than Greece...and then...late afternoon.. headed for the beach for a dıp. 'What a horrıfıc place'..Aydın's fırst words as we looked at water wıth floatıng beer cans...the sea dıvıded ınto lanes lıke a swımmıng pool and dısco musıc thumpıng out from nearby hotels. I am typıng thıs now from a turkısh ınternet cafe. I can't fınd the comma sıgn but wıll treat you to some keyboard trıcks: İnçöğnıtö. And hopıng that we wıll fınd better thıngs today.

farewell Cyprus, hello Rhodes

Englısh weddıng a la Rhodes
8th-13th May
After many goodbyes and a huge wash and brush up of the Lysos house we were pushed for time to get to Limassol before our boat set sail. We arrived mid-day the following day, coming into an impressive fortified harbour. It wasn't hard to imagine a colossus standing with legs astride it. The reality is an unspoilt medieaval town full of cobbled alleys, overhanging turkish-style balconies, minarets and churches...and plenty of tourist tat...all surrounded by the most amazing fotfications, dating back to 12-1500AD. We found ourselves a B&B in the centre, in an old ottoman house which, our landlady informed us, used to be a hareem. As all the rooms come off a central large space, and have shuttered windows as well as doors opening on to the centre, this seemed logical.
As usual, we had fallen on our feet. Our Dutch landlady is a character; well plastered by evening, and takes us with her with generous helpings of ouzo. Today we walked around the top of the city walls, and were regailed with stories of the Knights of St John and the Crusades by an eccentric Englishman, Graeme Hope. I say eccentric advisedly. After retiring from the armed forces, he has spent a great deal of time over 5 years mapping the walls, and the tunnels underneath. This involved crawling along miles of tunnel with nothing but a torch and a ball of string. He's alive to tell the tale, and we bought his account of the city seiges in the middle ages, which turne out to be fascinating.
A bus ride to Lindos revealed that much of the coast has been ruined by long strips of very ugly tourist development, and the natural landscape is dry and rocky. We wouldn't really recommend a beach holiday here. The engish tour operators apparently pulled out of Lindos on mass 3 or 4 years ago, and its no not too busy. Whilst sitting on its very beautful beach, we spied an English wedding going on in front of a little white chapel on one side of the bay. These are very common, according to a local, and no doubt will be even more so since the screening of 'Mama Mia'
We will spend another couple of days in Rhodes, and then take a ferry to Kos, a little further North. Meanwhile heres a few pictures