Thelma and Louise

My office mate Evi and I took another road trip in Cyprus today. Less than two hours and we were at the southwestern end of the island, near Limmasol, at Kourion. We saw ruins—including Achilles’ House, the House of the Gladiators, the House of Eustolios, a Roman Agora and Public Baths, and an early Christian Episcopal Basilica built upon the then ruins of the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman Periods. Corinthian columns remained intact; walls, floors, and partial mosaics were evident in the restored areas. Most impressive, the open amphitheater there (facing the ocean--incredible views) is still used in summer for theatre productions. We were free to step among remains of structures that were at least 325-350 B.C. and imagine the events that took place on that windswept cliff overlooking a 180 degree panorama of the Mediterranean Sea. Above the top walls of the Kourion theatre were pipe structures with holes in them, situated so the wind played them like a flute--all the notes, oddly humming across the space--a haunting refrain of antiquity.

We had dinner (lunch) at the edge of the sea in a restaurant that would put to shame those at Malibu Beach. The prices were a lot less; food was fresher, and the local white wine, clear and crisp. Evi ate a little octopus; I opted for something more ordinary—a local version of fish and chips, followed by a tiny cup of Cyprus coffee (always served with a glass of water).

Coming back to Nicosia/Lefkosia, Evi (with the map) decided to take the back roads. We drove along the sea, past olive groves, a tree-lined lane, fields of wildflowers, fresh strawberries for sale at roadside stands, and breath-taking glimpses of the turquoise water, light blue, cloud-puffed sky, and brilliant, bright light from the sun.

Suddenly, we ran smack into a guard gate—a British army base—and were met by roadblocks and a machine-gunned guard. He asked us if we had car passes. Of course, we didn't, so we had to turn around. Rather than go back to Kourion, Evi found another road by the inland Salt Lake. It was a dirt rutted, pot-holed road at first (and it rained today). That was bad enough. Then it turned into a solid mud flat (much like the sand places in California where they test drive cars--no lines, no borders, and no directions--just a straight shot across an empty space.) All was going fine until I saw deep ruts in the mud ahead. OK for a 4-wheel drive--rather spicy in my Honda. We eventually made it across, sliding around more than a bit. Only then, could I exhale.

Other moments made today another in a series of never-forgets. When we returned from our two hour perusal of the ruins, I discovered the car key had fallen out of my pocket. How could we retrace our steps to find it? Surely, it must have happened at one of the forty-five photo ops when I hurriedly pulled the camera out of my jacket pocket. Surely, we could find it among the rocks and ruins. Surely, this didn’t really happen! Fortunately, before beginning a futile search, I asked an attendant. Sure enough, my key was there in his office—along with two other complete sets of lost keys found today! Must be a common occurrence.

More pleasant memories include a photo op of pelicans on an inland pond, our successful maintaining of speed posted at 100 on the motorway (that’s “kilometers” not “miles”), and seeing a double rainbow over the meadowland just before sunset. Ah, what memories we are collecting, day by day, moment by moment, road by road.