SPOILER ALERT: This is a long post and kind of a grown up version of “What I Did This Summer.” So skip over the boring parts and I hope Laura or Bill or Meredith do not grade it.
At the end of my last day in Paphos, I went horseback riding! My hack through the hills began and ended at Eagle Mountain Ranch, which is adjacent to a wildlife conservation area and a traditional Cypriot village about five miles above Paphos.
I am in the Cypriot seaside resort town of Paphos, a UNESCO World Heritage site because of its archaeological treasures. I am sharing an apartment near the water with a part time tenant who sneaks in from the veranda. She responds to “kitty” even though in Greek she is “γaτάκι” –pronounced “ghataki.”
People in my life have probably not assumed I was going to stop giving advice just because they are technically out of hearing range. And after six weeks, I am starting to feel the need for “sharing” because pretty much no one on the road is going to listen to my opinions, including the woman who gave me a manicure today and filed my nails so they looked like salamander toes.
This is not my hand after the manicure. This is actual salamander toes.
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There is a tiny shop in Larnaca that, from the street, looks like a cross between conceptual art and a pottery studio. Once inside, you realize those brownish babies and body parts are candles.
Cyprus wasn’t on my short list. Or any list. I flew here from Tel Aviv following an elaborate multi-variable calculus involving the several ways to get to Jordan via Safed, all of which are either expensive or complex. But Cyprus is a really good inadvertent!
I am in the Cypriot seaside resort town of Paphos, a UNESCO World Heritage site because of its archaeological treasures. I am sharing an apartment near the water with a part time tenant who sneaks in from the veranda. She responds to “kitty” even though in Greek she is “γaτάκι” –pronounced “ghataki.”
There is a tiny shop in Larnaca that, from the street, looks like a cross between conceptual art and a pottery studio. Once inside, you realize those brownish babies and body parts are candles.
Cyprus wasn’t on my short list. Or any list. I flew here from Tel Aviv following an elaborate multi-variable calculus involving the several ways to get to Jordan via Safed, all of which are either expensive or complex. But Cyprus is a really good inadvertent!
Camino Milagro 