A Familiar Face

 Well friends, it's been another week so it's time to bring you up to date on our Cypriot Adventure.

  As I told you in our last installment, our friend Kate came to visit. If you've been following along since we started all this last May you'll know we've met up with family and friends a few times during our travels. It's so nice to see a familiar face when you're amongst an entire country of strangers!

  The day before she arrived Penny and I decided, after watching yet another season of the Great British Baking Show, that making a meat pie with a hot water crust was just what we needed on a cool, rainy evening. Let me bring you up to speed on this. Hot water crust requires lard so off we went to the grocery store. Stores. Guess what? Lard is impossible to find here. Also, we found some frozen shrimp at one of the stores and thought shrimp cocktails would be nice, but we needed horseradish to make the sauce. Guess what? Horseradish is impossible to find here. We did find horseradish sauce and bought it, but it's not the same.

  Anyway, back to the lard. With no lard available Penny said we could use suet, a box of which she'd spied in the cupboard. Of course, like with all our house sits, we replace anything we use so we had to find suet. Suet is impossible to find here. Except. Except for one store that a nice English ex-pat lady directed us to, so done. Ok, cut to the chase. Here's how it turned out (it's on a dinner plate, by the way, so it's big:

  Beauty, eh? I gotta say, we were both soooo impressed with our newfound hot water pastry skills when it came out of the oven. I mean, it looked great! We let it cool and then it was time to eat. Well, did I mention it looked great? I mean, it did. Just look up there☝. See? Unfortunately, I don't think we put enough suet into the crust because, well, power tools were required to cut it. Did I mention how great it looked? It wasn't a disaster though, as the beef and mushroom filling was outstanding. Moderate success.

  Back to Kate. Although she stayed in Paphos six years ago she wasn't very mobile so was relegated to a seaside hotel away from the main part of the city. During this visit she was determined to have a more in-depth experience and we were happy to oblige.

  After spending Saturday and most of Sunday catching up we headed off to a local taverna for a meze (pronounced "mezz-eh"). For those of you not up on your Greek and Cypriot food, a "meze" can best be compared to the Spanish "tapas", that is, small plates. In this case, we ordered a "mini-meze" which is only sixteen plates instead of the regular twenty-one. There was a salad. Olives. Halloumi. Tzatziki. Tahini. Pitas. Sausage. Lamb. More meat. More meat. Urp. And dessert. Urp. Who can eat twenty-one dishes??? We ended up taking some of it home. Then we laid on the floor and burped. Ok. Not really, but we should have.

  Monday was set aside for some shopping, as one does, followed by more eating. This time we headed uptown to a gyros place recommended by one of Kate's students whose family has a vacation home here. Now, I'm not a connoisseur of gyros, much preferring shawarma, but I was a bit surprised when the french fries that were included were included inside the pita. Is this normal? Not to me. I mean, here I am eating a pita which is already loaded with carbs and not figuring on eating many fries, but they are included so I'll have a few thank you and, instead, here's this massive pita filled with meat and... fries. Not a fan.

  By Tuesday we were ready for fun and games. And that's exactly what we got. Two of Kate's favourite activities are escape rooms and trivia contests. Through some exceptional research and logistical gymnastics I managed to schedule us into the only escape room in Paphos, followed immediately by the Tuesday evening Quiz Night at one of the local pubs.

  Now we've all done many escape rooms over the years but Kate manages to do it in every country she visits. I think she's up to at least ten by now, not including all the times she's been to the local ones around Newmarket. It was time to add Cyprus to the list so we marched off to find the lost ceremonial mask that would help us break the curse at the Tombs of the Kings Important Guys.

  As far as escape rooms go we found it to be fairly well done, about a 7/10. Unfortunately, the A/C was broken and it was about 35C inside. Trying to figure out arcane puzzles while sweat drips in your eyes might make an authentic in-tomb experience for some but I, for one, was unimpressed. Needless to say, we didn't finish unlocking the secret within the allotted hour, even with the extra time the owner gave us because he was sure the very experienced Canadian escape room pros would ace it and he hated the thought his modest attraction would baffle us.

  He was very apologetic at the end and was sure we'd have completed the task if it wasn't so hot inside. Yeah. What he said.

  After that it was off to DT's Pub for Quiz Night. Well, Quiz Evening. Afternoon. The damn thing started at 4 pm! We ate dinner at 3:30. We felt like we were getting the Early Bird at the Denny's in Miami Beach. This is where I tell you we had to reserve a table in advance. There we were, eating things which might have been food, while the English ex-pat nursing home crowd started sauntering in. This did not portend great things to come. The hip, youngish (well, younger than 80) crowd we were hoping for were somewhere else. I mean, who goes to Quiz Afternoon?

  At the stroke of four the event got under way. Penny and I were the "kids from across the pond". I guess Kate was the grandchild. Sigh. The next ninety minutes were filled with questions about obscure Liverpudlian suburbs, TV shows no one outside of the UK has ever heard of and songs from 1983. We were particularly baffled by a quiz section where we had to identify pictures of various noteworthy Limeys. I think our answer sheet was filled with such witty retorts as "dental hygienist" (she had unusually good teeth, given she's English), "TV football guy" (in the picture he was holding a microphone) and "TV football guy's girlfriend" (the female beside him). Needless to say, it wasn't the strongest part of our evening's (afternoon's) work. Sigh.

  We did manage to accumulate a decent amount of points, with assistance from one of the waiters who kept dropping by and whispering answers into Penny's ear. In the end it didn't matter. We had a laugh, a couple of drinks and managed to leave before full dark. Our night of bar hopping was done and we were the better for it.

  The biggest take away from the evening (afternoon) was the impact the Brits have on local culture. This was not the only English-style eating/drinking establishment to be found in the area. In fact, it seems most places are catering to that crowd. Whatever contemporary Cypriot culture there is to be found in Paphos seems to have been subverted in favour of capturing retirement funds from old people escaping cold English winters. It's like the Florida of the Mediterranean. Now, back to things Cypriot. Like this:

  Yes, donkey milk or, possibly, ass milk.

  I don't want to think about this as it makes me a bit queasy. Kate suggested there was a biblical connection to bathing in donkey milk. Maybe it's a thing Aphrodite did. It seems everywhere we go there's an Aphrodite this or an Aphrodite that. I guess we haven't yet happened upon Aphrodite's Ass Milk Baths. There's time.

  Wednesday was set aside for an excursion to Nicosia. More specifically, the Turkish side of Nicosia. If you're not aware, Nicosia is the only partitioned city in the world and still has a UN peacekeeping contingent to ensure peace between the Greeks and Turks. Fortunately for intrepid explorers such as ourselves, the two parties maintain a border crossing downtown where you can walk across the Green Line and enter an entirely different country. And so we did.

  The blue and white awning is the actual crossing (UN colours of course) and it's a very simple and painless process. There are no blue helmets, no machine gun nests perched amid sandbags, etc. You exit Cyprus, cross the no man's land and enter the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Ta da! Look at us being such risk-takers.

  Once we crossed the border we had the first semi-authentic Cypriot experience since we landed on the island. No British ex-pats here. No Russian oligarchs buying seaside estates to launder their ill-gotten gains. We entered an ersatz marketplace filled with vendor stalls where we could buy innumerable cheap designer knockoffs. Now that's an authentic in-country experience.

  We wandered around and found ourselves in the Buyuk Han, an Ottoman era caravanserai, or marketplace.

  The lower level was largely occupied by seating areas for the restaurant that operated there with the upper level housing stalls for artists and craftspeople. Since we'd driven two hours to get to the TRNC it was time for a libation and a repast.

  Before we go any further I need to remind you of the country's french fry fetish. The food was suspect so I kept my order simple. Just a pita with meat. Easy right? The thing arrived stuffed with french fries. Damn. I choked it down and decided I was done with fries for the rest of the trip.

  After lunch we headed off for some cultural enlightenment. You've all heard the term whirling dervish, right? Turns out it's a thing or, more accurately, a person. These dervishes (dervi?) whirl, and they whirl so much I'd puke my guts out if I took this up as a way to earn a few bucks.

  There is a religious significance to this thing although I'm not sure the guy we saw was interpreting it according to his forefathers' ideals. I think it was more of a way to earn some bucks from tourists. It was interesting but not that interesting.

  With that experience safely locked away in our crowded memory banks we headed back to Paphos. But first, another Aphrodite thing. As you approach Paphos along the coast you come to Aphrodite's rock where, according to myth/legend she rose from the sea. or was born, or something. Anyway, we decided it was a good thing to add to our collection of all things Aphrodite.

  If you're thinking, which one is the rock, there's nothing there to identify it. In fact, there's a bunch of big rocks sitting in the water. Not one of them has "Aphrodite wuz here" scrawled on it in spray paint so it's hard to tell which is the one. We just figured she got out of the water and licked all of them to make them her own, like that Cards Against Humanity card everyone loves. Not the one that says, "I'm Batman". Different.

  Finally, it was off to dinner and, yes, another meal with french fries. Virtually every restaurant meal you can get here comes with french fries and a small bit of salad. Moussaka? Fries and salad. Souvlaki? Fries and salad. Squid? Fries and salad. Stifado? Fries and salad.

  When we finished we piled into the car for the climb up the hills to our Kallepian palace. That's when I noticed the gas gauge. Low. Three bars left. Wait. Two. For a Honda this thing gets shitty gas mileage. "No problem, there's a gas station ahead", I said confidently as I spied the lit up Total sign ahead. Closed. No idea why the sign was lit if they were closed. Knowing we wouldn't have enough gas to climb the rest of the way and get back down in the morning, we turned around and hoped Google could find us a station with a lit sign and operating pumps.

  Fortunately, all of Paphos is downhill until you get to the sea. Our two bars of gas became one and we passed a few more lit signs and closed pumps but eventually found someone willing to sell us some fuel. Of course, I couldn't fill the tank because the stupid machine only lets you buy 50 Euros worth. "Little car", the pump guy says, "Only need 30-40 Euros to fill". I guess he wasn't paying attention to the puff of dust than exited the filler tube when he removed the gas cap. Fumes. He pumped the 50 Euros worth and that gave us a half a tank but we had enough to climb the hill home, so it was all good.  

  Before we go further I need to remind you of the electrical situation here in Chateau Kallepia. Remember the shower thing? Turn off everything before you turn on the hot water in the shower? We did that. Kate still blew the main breaker. Twice. I'm sure it's not funny when you're standing in the shower and the lights go off and the water goes cold. Well, maybe just a little bit funny. We got to the point where we'd turn off every light in the house and hold our breath until she was done.

  Thursday was her last day so we headed out on another road trip to show her the west side of the island. We headed back up to the Baths of Aphrodite intent on driving up to the Blue Lagoon but the road resembled an outback track more suitable to a 4x4 than a Honda CRV so we turned around and headed back to the southwest coast in search of a shipwreck and a sunset. Along the way we found ourselves atop a small mountain and the view was sublime.

  Then it was downhill all the way until we hit the wreck of the Edro III. Apparently it was en route from Limassol to Rhodes with a load of drywall. Everyone knows drywall guys are shitty sailors. Sheesh.

  With that box checked we headed to a seaside bar for a drink and a chance to watch the sunset over the Med. We saw milkshakes on the menu and that seemed to hit a note for all of us. Bartender! Milkshakes all around! I ordered banana, Kate chocolate and Penny coffee. When they showed up Penny's looked, and tasted, like coffee, sort of. Kate and mine were identical. Wrong order. Two banana. Off to get a chocolate one. I guess it was ok. Mine, on the other hand, was milk-flavoured. No banana. I was thirsty so I drank  it. Anyway, there weren't any french fries in it. Besides. Sunset.

  For dinner we headed to a taverna popular with the Kallepia ex-pat crowd and the food was good but, wait for it, everything came with french fries and salad.

  With those experiences under her belt Kate jetted off back to Jordan this morning and we settled in for our final ten days in Cyprus. We're expecting a few more adventures in the coming days so check your inbox and your Facebook feed because you don't want to miss it! Cheers.