I left the comforts of Larnaca for the hostel trail again, taking the brand new Cyprus bus infrastructure to Limassol, yet another city by the sea. I checked into my hostel room, sighed, and headed out to see some sights. Rodrigo put me in touch with some of his Cypriot friends from grad school, and I met up with them for lunch.
Alex met me outside my hostel, along with his co-worker Theologos, who just might have the most awesome name ever. We grabbed some lunch at a nearby cafe and Alex explained the invasion of Cyprus by Turkey in 1974. If my memory is correct, the Cypriots had planned some sort of military coup in 1974, which prompted Turkey to invade in order to "stabilize" the island, with dubious allowance from the UN and NATO. At any rate, in it's current state 40% of Cyprus is occupied by Turkey, which claims that part as the Turkish Republic of North Cyprus, a designation that only it recognizes. In addition to simply being on the land, wartime atrocities have also not put the Turks in good favor with the Greek Cypriots. Alex told me it was a sensitive topic and suggested I be careful in telling people that I would be going to North Cyprus.
After my very informative lunch, I visited the Limassol castle. It's not spectacular, but has a nice collection of medieval artifacts, juxtaposed along side modern artistic interpretations of those medieval artifacts. It's an... interesting experience. I'm not sure if I liked it, but I can safely say I've never seen anything like it. Imagine a full suit of armor right next to glowstick snakes.
Being in Cyprus has also reintroduced me to one of my favorite pastimes, first discovered in Athens five years ago. It's standing by a road sign for five minutes trying to remember Greek letters from physics class so I can figure out what street I'm on. I'm getting surprisingly good at it. I was able to recognize the cities that buses are traveling to and from. Lambda, alpha, epsilon, yeah!
I was pretty tired that night, but still went out for a totally overpriced beer with a Scotsman named Scott (heh!) and a Canadian named Daniel. Scott seemed to be a bit down on his luck. He lost his job in Scotland, and was lured to Cyprus by an employment agency in Scotland that never really materialized once he arrived here. Now he just drinks, gambles, and wonders if he should stay or go.
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