Keep Left - Northern Cyprus

So, I've sat down to write this post at least three times, and I keep getting tired or distracted or called to board my flight, etc. etc. But now, I have found a lovely cafe and Istanbul and I am going to finish it so help me Google! I did, after all, promise to tell you about Cyprus - and it's going to be a long one.

So, to start with, let's do some background on why Cyprus, and why it still fits in my Turkey blog. (I will be starting a Europe blog when I get there, fyi... Except I'm already in Europe, because I'm staying on the European side of Istanbul... But whatever. Semantics.) Anyway, going way back Cyprus has been a hotbed of ethnic strife between its ethnically Greek and ethnically Turkish inhabitants. In 1974, the northern part of the island declared independence as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) and has remained such ever since - except for the tiny issue where Turkey is the only nation in the world to recognize them as a sovereign nation. It's not a violent conflict, but it has led to all sorts of fascinating diplomatic issues, including complete inaccessibility from anywhere besides Turkey. So we had to take advantage, right?

The most interesting thing to note about Northern Cyprus is that is has become a fascinating amalgamation of cultures. Prior to independence, the island was occupied by the British following a deal with the Ottoman Empire in 1878. I know the year because I spent my trip reading the 1897 travel log of and Englishman in Cyprus, which was interesting but not something I'm going to elaborate on here. The British influence on the island is obvious. There are many Brits living there, and even more who visit regularly, so the usual Turkish cafes exist right alongside a wealth of English and Irish pubs. Nevertheless, the cities have a decidedly Mediterranean feel. We stayed in a hostel on the harbour in Kyrenia on the north shore, and it looked like every picture of the Greek coast I've ever seen.

Apart from the modern culture, however, the island is also rich with historical significance and, therefore, landmarks. Cyprus has long been considered a strategic military post, so it has been occupied by everyone from the Romans to the Persians, Byzantines, Lusignans, Venetians, and everyone else who ever had a major naval presence in the Mediterranean. And they all left their mark - mostly in castles. In North Cyprus alone there is a series of four major castles, and I got to see them all. For those of you who know me, you will know how over the moon I was about that. I Love castles. Love. With a capital L. I'm getting a bit ahead of myself though.

So I flew into Cyprus from Ankara late Wednesday night, a full day ahead of Mark and Isobel because I'm running down to the end of my Turkish visa and every day counts. Since it's not recognized as a sovereign nation, TRKC sees far fewer tourists than its southern counterpart, and there's little to no tourist infrastructure. As such, we'd arranged to rent a car, which I picked up at the airport, which was... an experience. There was a man with a sign with my name on it. I shook his hand, gave him a wad of cash, he handed me a key, told me to lock it in the car in the car park when I left, and that was that. I was on my own with a car in a fake country. That drives on the left.

Driving on the left wasn't really the problem, but it was a fun experience nonetheless. Oh, and did I mention we got an imported Mazda? So the entire console was in Japanese. Still, who needs to know how to work the gps? I had a map. Sort of. Not that that stopped me from taking the wrong turn and driving through the winding mountain roads in pitch blackness instead of taking the well lit highway I'd intended. I got where I was going at least. It just took... longer. And a lot of stopping to consult the gps on my phone. I swear, that thing is a lifesaver. Speaking of, I've installed a gps tracking app that I plan to check in on whenever I reach a new city, so for any of my readers who would like those more frequent updates (and have a smart phone) just let me know and I can loop you in.

I had worried that parking would be an issue on the narrow harbour streets, and it would have been, except I found a fantastic free spot at the mosque down the street from the hostel. The lovely thing about Cyprus is that no one tows, so as long as you can find a spot that isn't going to block anyone else, you're golden. That's still harder than it sounds, but I got lucky. That left me wandering into the hostel around eleven. It wasn't really a hostel in the traditional sense. It was actually a boutique hotel that had installed a four bed dorm, but hey - it was cheap. And that's the important thing.

Muhammad, who checked me in, was very blase about the whole thing. He didn't need me to pay up front, didn't really have anything to tell me about policies or check out times or... anything really. Much like the car, he gave me a key and left me to it. That turned out to be a problem the next day, because when I finally paid I thought I was paying for all of us for the entire time we were there and I was only paying for me and when Mark and Isobel got there it got complicated, but it all worked out in the end and I don't really feel like explaining but ugh organization and communication. It just makes things easier. Anyway, the hostel was about what we paid for. A plain room with a bathroom that's door didn't close. Good thing we were all friends. The location was spectacular there. The entire city was at our fingertips. I figured all the cafes and bars in the city would be better explored with friends though, so when I woke up on Thursday I took to the roads.

My first stop was Bellapais Abbey, an old abbey in the mountains proclaimed, at least by the brochure, as the finest example of Gothic architecture in the Mediterranean. I'm inclined to agree, though the view from the abbey might have made me a bit biased.

I followed the abbey with North Cyprus' most popular castle, St. Hilarion. St. Hilarion is best known as the inspiration for Disney's Snow White's castle, allegedly. Who knows? They claim it at any rate. Regardless, it is impressive in its own respect, and hiking the ruins was a spectacular experience. I even took a selfie for Mom's benefit. (For those of you who don't know, I despise selfies. But when mother complains there aren't enough pictures of me, who am I to refuse her?)

I hadn't been sure how long the abbey and St. Hilarion would take, so I hadn't planned anything else for Thursday. I was due to pick up Mark and Isobel from the airport at seven and I didn't want to be late, or do too much without them. I finished St. Hilarion in the early afternoon though, and with a bunch of time left, I figured I'd drive out to the east coast. It wasn't any further from the airport, but it was far enough from Kyrenia that I doubted we'd make it out there as a trio. I was wrong, but anyway. The east coast took me to St. Barnabus monastery, which wasn't much to see but had a couple nice museums, and the Salamis Roman ruins. For those who don't know, Cyprus is the rumored birthplace of the Roman goddess Venus, so I figured the ruins were important. The main section (pictured) was beautiful, but pretty centrally located, while the complex was vast. Then again, I'm me, and thought... what the hell, I have time. So I started trekking out to some old 'temples' that are mostly piles of rock now. I characterize most of that sightseeing as exercise in hindsight, with a picturesque view of the sea that certainly didn't hurt. There was definitely a point where I jogged for half a kilometer just because there was nothing to see though, and I figured exercise (or more of it) would be good for me.

Even with all the extra hiking time, I still had a bit to kill before Mark and Isobel's flight arrived, but I was also wiped. So I drove out to the airport and napped in the car for an hour before picking them up and heading back to the hostel. I found the right highway this time, thank goodness. We went out for dinner that night, as we did every meal thereafter. My wallet will definitely be thankful for my return to travelling alone, but it was nice to have some company.

Friday took us to breakfast on the harbour, then Kyrenia Castle, the fort protecting said harbour, and thus literally right next door.

The next morning, we went back into the mountains to see Buffavento Castle, the highest, though also most degraded of the four. Then we headed out to Turtle Beach for a nice lie in the sun, followed by lunch, tea, and reading at a beach side cafe. Turtle Beach is named such because it is a well known breeding ground for the sea turtles that lay their eggs there every spring. Apparently there's a research center in the area too, though we didn't find it. Truth be told, with the beach calling, we didn't look too hard.

After I'd drug Mark and Isobel out of bed early for Buffovento, we agreed to let them sleep in on Sunday, so I struck out that morning on my own again. I wanted to get more of a feel for inland Kyrenia, so I wandered the streets on foot, only half looking for the pair of black flats I told myself I needed for those situations in Europe where sneakers would not be appropriate. I definitely didn't want to pay European prices for them though, and I did end up with a pair. I'm not in love with them, but they're small enough to pack, and where else am I going to get super comfortable hand crafted suede shoes for $30?

Around noon, we finally headed out with a new and unexpected plan. I'd wanted to head down to the border and cross into Greek Cypress, something I had been told by multiple contacts at the Embassy was easy and worth it, but Mark and Isobel were worried about border issues, so instead we went on a road trip! We took the coastal road out to the north eastern peninsula to see the last of the four castles: Kantara. And because it was another castle, I could hardly complain. Being so out of the way, it was completely empty, and had by far the best views yet.

From Kantara we drove south for dinner in Famagusta, the town nearest Salamis. Mark had showed some interest in stopping to see Salamis again, but when we pilled in to the car park it was clear that the environment I had seen there on May Day, one of families and fun, had turned into a rather worrisome men's club without a female or child in sight, and I was wearing shorts. We didn't stay long. After pastries and cards in a Famagusta cafe, I dropped Mark and Isobel at the airport and headed back for my last night in the hostel. I wasn't alone though. Three Russian girls had checked in while I was out. They didn't speak much English though, so I mostly introduced myself and went to bed. The next morning, it was just a matter of getting back to the airport, locking my keys in the car as instructed, and boarding my (delayed) flight to Istanbul.

I can't express how wonderful the Cypress experience was as a whole. Certainly a trip I'm glad I didn't miss, and a perfect send off from an important part of my Ankara family. If any of you are looking for your next cheap vacation spot, I cannot recommend TRNC enough. It's the perfect melding of history and culture, and there are even a number of things we didn't even touch on. For instance, did you know that Northern Cyprus is considered the Vegas of Turkey? We didn't set foot in a casino while we were there, but there are a number of them. All in all it's a lovely place not yet touched by the leveling force of mass tourism, but touristy enough to offer everything you could ever want.