Travelling along the north-west coast of the small island of Cyprus, things haven’t changed much. The coast is beautiful, the hills of Paphos forest are rugged and the sentry posts are isolated. A couple of towns and original villages remain stubbornly unchanged.
Arriving at one of the remote crossing points before the border with South/Northern Cyprus, a small rustic beach bar seems a good idea in the forty-one-degree heat. On entering, an extended family and a pair of middle-aged men occupy two of the many old wooden tables under the trees. As we approach a table overlooking the sea, we’re told it is reserved and we notice the reserved sign. On perusing the old menu, we notice a whole cooked fish like sea bass etc, costs twice the usual amount. In this time warp, maybe visitors are discouraged or just tolerated.
Having finished our cold drinks, we return back along the well-surfaced road winding through the steep-sided hills. Moufflon, the national emblem of Cyprus, and goats graze undisturbed.