Well, Today was always going to be an extension of my cultural awareness period of Cyprus, as i wondered around trying to rack my addled brains thinking how i was going to go about the business off looking for the touristy type things, i turned a corner and low and behold, three open top tour busses!!! Having been informed by the ‘Local’ Scottish driver that the next tour would not be for an hour and a half, i turned tail and headed up to the Marina where i had already planned to eat something ‘touristy’ (You might have guessed, this is my one and only died in the wool tourist day)
Having passed by ‘Steve’s Cafe’ on numerous occasions, i though it only fair that i should actually listen to the local guy outside telling me the advantages of eating at his place. “Awight Mite” Cockney cockney, jingle jangle apples and pears was all i heard, so i ventured under the umbrellas and waited a full nano second for service. The obligatory mid morning Mojito and i was ready for food. Scanning through the ornately festooned menu (Irony never lost) i was pleasantly surprised by the way the clouds covered over the sun for a minute.I say that because there was NOTHING sup rising on the menu, apart from an unusually sticky pink stain on the front. Full Engish, or Kebabs (Chicken or pork) all with chips and a salad. Chicken Kebab won. it was edible, so i ate it. I’ve promised myself i will never let my tongue be disappointed again by the built up apprehension of ignorance. Bloody tourists!
Time to hit the bus, the tour started with a red hot back seat, stupidly, i didn’t expect that, my bare legs stuck to the seat and i winced a little when i ripped them off. The route, if it was to be believed, would take us all around the towns heritage sites and ill us with information to regurgitate with the aid of media such as this, Unfortunately, i kept my head phones in the whole time and listened to a selection of classic 80s music! just as well really as the bloody trip took the exact route as the number 610 bus i get every evening!!! the one interesting bit was the drive to the tomb of the kings, “I’m coming back here” i thought, and i did!
The excitement of the excursion and the local delicacies over, i decided to head back to that Ancient and Cultural land mark which are the tombs. Getting off the bus i found i really needed the toilet (the mojitos were now conspiring against me) the toilet door was locked and wasn’t going to open any time soon. That dampened my mood somewhat, but i thought, what the hey, its a cultural land mark renown throughout the world as the best. Not to put too fine a point on it, ‘Its a load of holes in the bleeding ground”
No i can’t just leave it there, Its a load of holes in the ground surrounded by a load of gravel and mounds of stones. scrub grass hid a plethora of deadly biting slithering snappy killy things, i got chased by another snake the size of a firkin drain pipe, i wouldn’t say it was scary, but all it needed was a flick knife and a mexican accent. I ran, took pics and ran some more screaming like a banshee! I’m no David Attenborough, but this place was dull as a Cypriots dish water. to many it is probably a shrine (not just to the ancestors) but to me, i could have spent the cost of admission and bus fare on another Mojito! talking of which, i decided to walk back to the hotel from there
As i now have some slight idea hoe the town is laid out, i roughly knew the way to ‘Charlie’s Bar” so i sidled into there and stroked a glass of alcohol for a few minutes until i was informed it was happy hour, so i stroked another. My walk back from there was pretty unadventurous really. i dot know if my beating heart could have coped with much more trauma, but I’m back in my safe haven which is that cafe/ bar where i sally forth and write these missives, I must find its name.
For Skye. x
(I’ve just had some rather large chap walk in and sit himself opposite me with his wisp of a girlfriend, if he doesn’t shoot me or try to have his way, ill be back tomorrow)