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Travelogue Canary Islands 3: Funchal

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FUNCHAL
13 March 2025

Although the Canary Islands are Spanish, our cruise itinerary included a bonus day on the Portuguese islands of Madeira. With only the one day to explore, we decided to focus on Funchal and do it properly. We booked tickets for the Funchal Yellow Bus hop-on-hop-off experience through the travel desk on our cruise ship which gave us access to the tour bus that came right onto the quay in front of the disembarkation point.

The bus itself is exactly what you’d expect—open top, audio guide in 10 languages. The route winds through the old town, past the cable car station (mental note: do that next), and up into the hills where the views get increasingly smug-worthy. The commentary was just enough history to feel cultured, not so much that you start checking your watch.

We hopped off the bus at Camara de Lobos; a fishing village so pretty that it looks photoshopped! Its claim to fame is that Churchill stayed in the Reid’s Palace Hotel in 1950 and set up his painting easel outside to capture the picturesque colourful boats, whitewashed houses and dramatic cliffs. We set Dorothy down on the bench next to Winston for a snappy for our holiday album before the inevitable fridge magnet hunt.

We hopped back on the bus to take us to the Lido promenade. The promenade stretches for about 2 km, linking the Lido area to Praia Formosa beach on a decorated tiled path. It was lined with palm trees, lush botanical gardens, and benches where locals less on-a-mission than we were took time to sit and stare at the ocean for a while. (Of course, being the Atlantic, the water is freezing so staring is probably the best way to experience it!)

After some discussion when we got back on the bus, the mothers, petered by the long walk and a few steep-climb hills, decided to hop off at the bus stop at the quayside to retire back to the ship while Chris and I continued back into town with full intention of cashing in the wine-tasting that was included in our bus ticket.

We walked along the pleasant shaded avenue in the city centre, admiring the seamless combination of understated modern conveniences alongside the authentic old-world charm until we found Blandy’s. We cashed in the complimentary tastings and topped up with a pay-in to complete the flight of their Madeiran sweet wines. Did you know Madeira wine was used to toast the signing of the US Declaration of Independence? Neither did I. Cheers, George Washington.

Although not to our usual palette, it was worth it to have the experience in the motherland, and we bought a combo pack to take home for our Wine & Dine tasting club.

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 7: Gran Canaria

GRAN CANARIA
19 – 23 March 2025

After 2 very exciting first legs of the Canary Islands tour – the cruise and then a stint in Tenerife – it was time for the 3rd and final piece. Ending off with 5 days in Gran Canaria took the sting out of the epic holiday having to inevitably conclude. Our friends Alex and Luke (from England) joining us there was a bonus that had had us actually looking forward to starting the last stage together.

The ports of Santa Cruz on the east side of Tenerife and Agaete on the west side of Gran Canaria are only about 75km apart so we caught the ferry. We sucked up an early morning start to catch the 8am boat to have us at our destination less than an hour and a half later.

Effortlessly collecting our rental car at the port, we were soon on our way. After a couple of short stops in the seaside town of Agaeta and the historic town of Guia, we headed up the mountain to find our Airbnb house. It was a hair-raising white-knuckled drive along narrow streets with hairpin bends, blind corners and unexpected dead ends (even with GPS and Google offline maps)… but worth it when we got to Ecofinco Selva Dormas.

We had booked a large house for the extended group, but the description on the website had not done justice. Our host welcomed us to the ‘traditional Canarian home’ with its 5 double bedrooms curved around a central pyjama lounge with fireplace. To the right, walking through the modern kitchen (with walk-in pantry) produced the open-plan atrium living space with a 12-seater farmstyle dining table running along the right hand side and a lounge and big-screen TV area occupying the middle and left respectively. Outsized couches invited us to relax and enjoy the panoramic view that the wall-to-wall windows offered of the farm, the gorge beyond and even Las Palmas and the ocean on the horizon.

Sadly, we had no time to waste and it was back in the car to get to the airport to meet our British contingent. Taking a more direct, yet barely less harrowing, route back to the highway saved us some time but we were still almost an hour late. Fortunately, our friends were chill and our make-shift meeting arrangements sound enough to see us all greeting each other with smiling faces and hilarity a short time later.

Using online Google to get back to the farm seemed to make little difference to the return journey routing, but Chris’s recent experience with the new circumstances and terrain made up for it. After a short stop at the mercado to get dinner supplies, he was expertly bobbing and weaving around unmarked roads to get us back to our haven.

Our new guests were as impressed with our house as we were. We had barely finished showing off the impressive barbecue, patio furniture and hot tub, and had moved onto the terrace when our host reappeared to repeat the welcome spiel. Boy, was he surprised with how interested we were. Poor guy ended up taking us for a 2 hour tour around the property, explaining the what, why and how of everything we asked about – and many things we didn’t think to.

It was a good story with our host, Jaime, being a teacher who had acquired the farm 4 years prior with the ideal of playing his part in reforesting where Gran Canaria had lost countless trees to humans needing wood for burning and building. He had the house to rent out for funds, and was using the grounds to supplement income through eco-friendly and community-driven exploits. There was an orchard producing oranges, lemons, avocados and loquats that he told us were tended by his students with special needs. An indigenous garden was dedicated to a generous collection of shrubs and plants uniquely Canarian, which he plucked and plumped so we could taste or smell.

Completing our tour of the top gardens, he offered to show us the lower grounds. Calling his bluff, we descended on the ramps that ran in front of our terrace. With a whiff of this and a waft of that, we slowly inched down the ramps until we were at the chicken run. Jaime introduced us to the ladies – a few personally, with made-up names – and one of the three roosters. We were provided with leaves from the tastier shrubs nearby to feed the hens, who cackled and squawked delightedly as they tussled for the leaves and branches we poked through the fence for them.

The tour closed with a visit to the greenhouse, where we were enlightened on some of the more taxing and laborious tasks that it takes to get healthy veggies to market. Learning of the Friday market in Guia, we committed to doing a fresh food shop from the stall that sold the produce from our farm. We were also provided a fresh-from-the-vine cucumber since we hadn’t been able to get one on our grocery shop.

With that we returned home for a sundowner and to prepare our dinner, a fantastic tuna pasta with fresh salad and crusty bread. It had been a long day for all, so we let Ted Lasso see us off to slumber time.

THURSDAY

Celebrating Dorothy’s 84th birthday, we were up bright and early making tea and a fuss. We had wonderful farm fresh oranges for juice and eggs to make scrambles before we hit the road to Las Palmas.

The mothers were deposited at the seaside to meet up with Aunty Pat and Uncle Peter who had timed their holidays to cross-over with ours for a much-needed reunion. We drove across to the old town for our booked walking tour.

We met Luis from Guru Walk at the designated spot and were very impressed with how organised he was. He started with an introduction of himself and his heritage in Gran Canaria as well as the history of Las Palmas, and then invited us into the church for a taste of the island’s religious history.

We spent the next couple of hours following Luis as he led us through the charming cobbled streets, pointing out places of interest. He illustrated his stories with laminated sheets from a plastic envelope under his arm and with images from his iPad. It was a mixed bag of triumph and tragedy that dated back to cave-dwellers, welcomed intrepid explorers, evolved from slave-trading and has kept this little island solidly on the map for millennia. Poor Luis expertly fielded all the random questions our little group threw at him, mixing his academic history and geography education with personal anecdotes that lent depth to the textbook narrative.

When we were done we made our way back to the waterfront to meet up with the others for a late lunch. Luke had found us a well-reviewed restaurant a few doors down from the hotel, which was clinched since the Spanish name Madre del Amor Hermoso translated to Mother of Beautiful Love, which seemed especially fitting for our mother’s birthday event.

Being mid-afternoon and between conventional meal sittings, they were able to seat us immediately. Navigating the complicated menu, we each found something delicious to order and then shared stories of our respective days while sipping on our drinks. It was great to have such a festive mix at the impromptu birthday party!

Sadly, with a long drive ahead, it was time to go sooner than we would have liked. Our merry group took a collection of smiling photographs before we piled into the car and made our way back up the mountain to our fabulous farm. There was still some light left of the day and with no cooking to do, we were able to flop into the hot tub to enjoy the spectacular view, with the clear evening allowing us to see all the way back to Las Palmas.

FRIDAY

Anticipating that we would want to pick at the market, we had a quick start to the day with freshly-squeezed orange juice before heading out. We easily found the indoor market building and Jaime was easy to spot as we arrived, since he was outside and on the phone doing a TV interview about something farm-related. We got shopping and bought a collection of organic items that would enrich our next couple of meals.

Falling short on the immediate food front, we made our way to Agaete to source something to fill the bellies that we’re planning on hiking all day. A waterfront diner did the trick with crusty bocadilla rolls providing the carbs we needed.

The winding drive along the steep ocean-facing cliffs had us sweating almost as much as the hike promised to. With a lot of roadworks, there were a lot of big trucks. Clearly used to the roads, they would hurtle in our direction and we would breathe in as they slid past us. Passing motorists didn’t inspire us with any more faith, often overlapping onto our side of the road as they swung into view from curves up ahead. There were thankfully precious few cyclists, and the intermittent hikers casually ambling up the non-existent pavement with nothing but sheer drop on the other side had us crawling past them so as not to create any cause for alarm.

It was still a beautiful drive and we were excited for what lay ahead. Alex had a hikes and walks app and had selected a path for us to follow. Mostly clear and flat track, we could focus on the view and chatting amongst ourselves, and predicting which muscle groups would have stories to tell the next day from the steeper climbing parts of the route. Great to spend a couple of hours in the sunshine and fresh air, appreciating the best that nature has to offer from the spectacular viewpoints.

Rewarding ourselves for a job well done, lunch was a collection of local delicacies including mushrooms grilled with almagrote cheese paste, pork croquettes, deep fried goat cheese and some calamari rings for good measure.

We lucked out on the return journey, where we discovered that all the roadwork crews were building tunnels through the base of the mountains, which saved all the perilous cross-crossing we’d experienced on the way up the coast. We particularly enjoyed a stunning new 2.4km tunnel that had been open less than a month and offered a slick two-laned shortcut that saved us 20 minutes or more!

Back in civilisation we hunter-gathered for supplies for dinner. Thanks to the joys of island life where seafood is so reasonably priced, we landed two huge pieces of salmon (almost a kilo each) for a fish braai back at the farm. Luke would be preparing his signature dish, Spanish Omelette, to accompany. With that, we returned to the nest to share the stories of our day and sneak a whirl in the hot tub to wash away all the stories our muscles were already telling.

SATURDAY

The last day always comes too soon. We woke up in the clouds, with our mountain home engulfed in a low hanging mist and threatening rain. Temperatures had dropped and it was quite chilly! We wondered how this would bode for our ‘Beach Day’ plan…

We set off, back down the mountain and on the ring road highway that ran clockwise three quarters of the way around the island. We would be driving the whole distance, to Mogan at the farthest point, and counting our blessings for the freeway.

While we were amazed to be greeted with bright sunshine on this end of the island, we were a bit disappointed with Mogan. The small slice of beach was packed and promoters outside the crescent of restaurants along the short waterfront promenade were already having little challenge luring tourists in with drinks specials and meal deals. It was clear from the row of apartments and the collection of stores that this town had dedicated itself to in-and-out holidaymakers. Luke did us the honour of testing the waters so that at least we could say we collectively had experienced the ocean.

Retracing our footsteps to Maspalomas, we guided ourselves to the RIU hotel that was described as the gateway to the famous dunes, which were became visible as we walked through the grand entrance.

A signboard gave us options for walks through the dunes and we selected the 2.3km route that would deposit us at the sea. It didn’t sound very far – a fraction of the hike the previous day – but the thick sand made the going a lot slower and tougher. It was worth it though to make our way along the demarcated path to appreciate the vastness of it all.

Then, like an oasis, we were at the sea. Like true wanderers emerging from the desert, we were keen on refreshments. There were lots of restaurants (mostly seafood) and a real party vibe. Succumbing to the spirit of tourism, we had a pint at Paddy’s Irish Bar to log on our Guinness Index before heading for home for the last night of our wonderful holiday.

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 6: Tenerife

TENERIFE
16-19 March 2025

It was with heavy hearts (and heads, after our party the night before) that we had to bid farewell to the ship that had been our home for the preceding week and toured us around the Canary Islands. We savoured our last breakfast onboard and then wheeled our cases to the car rental agency on the Santa Cruz de Tenerife port to pick up the keys for our new adventure.

With plenty of time before check-in at our Airbnb rental to the south of the port, we took a drive up north to the historic town of La Orotava. Arriving in the old town, it took several circles to find a parkade so we could explore on foot.

Knowing precious little about our new location, it was a relief and a delight to find that there were info boards outside of the places of interest. And there were many! The well-preserved neighbourhood had buildings that dated back more than 500 years and shared examples of architecture spanning across the millennia, where some of the structures had succumbed to some sort of accidental destruction and been rebuilt.

Built on a slope, some of the hills were not for the faint-hearted… but did allow for some creative use of space with terraced gardens, and breath-taking views both up and down the few roads that made up the old town.

Time still in hand, we headed towards our base camp, Tabaiba, just south of Santa Cruz de Tenerife. Wanting to get our sight-seeing done before check in, we explored the seaside first with a drive to the next big town, Candelaria for a wander around.

Our Airbnb apartment was mounted on a steep hillside with an impressive panoramic view of the coastline. With our 3 bedrooms upstairs (each with a terrace) and a large living area downstairs, we settled in for a quiet evening at home to find our land legs again.

MONDAY

Our itinerary had us travelling south for the day. The good people of Tenerife had thoughtfully created a ring-road freeway around the circumference of the island, which made it very quick and easy to execute our mission. Our trusty rental car soon deposited us at the very busy coastal resort-town of Los Cristianos.

The struggle for finding a parking spot made sense once we walked down from the road to the promenade. Even for a fresh spring morning, the beach was already full of sunbathers and people playing volleyball or bat-and-ball. The restaurants were busy and the pubs long-since open. Being St Patrick’s Day, there were holiday-makers donning bright green shirts and hats, and posters in several establishment promised that the day would be exceptionally festive. Quite different from anything we’d yet experienced in the Canary Islands.

The visual overload was addictive and before we even realised it, we had covered a couple of kilometres on the promenade, window-shopping and people-watching. We had worked up quite an appetite! It was most certainly time for lunch.

Spoilt for choice, a set menu caught our attention and we settled in at Las Castanuelos for a collection of options from the menu so that we would have stories to tell about the local dishes. Washing it all down with Sangria and soaking in the seaside atmosphere.

Keen to get feet up after our great trek, we eased our way back to homebase for a couple of hours of R&R. Our apartment had a spacious covered front terrace, with lounge furniture arranged to appreciate the spectacular sunset.

After a light supper, we introduced the mothers to the wonder that is Ted Lasso and we all had a good laugh until bedtime beckoned.

TUESDAY

We would be remiss in spending time in Tenerife without an explore of the capital, Santa Cruz, so up the coast we went. With rain forecast for the afternoon, we front-ended the outdoor excursions such that we could have a leisurely lunch to weather any storms, so to speak, when and if the time came.

This meant starting with a visit to the historical town of La Laguna. Similar to La Orotava, it was an enclave of beautifully preserved old town. With cobblestone streets and elegant facades, we could only imagine that this would have been the top-end of the town back then. It also had a very pleasant aroma lingering from the generous selection of coffee shops and bakeries nested into the ground level floor of some of the buildings that had been subtly converted for retail.

A pop into the tourist office revealed which buildings allowed access (and which were free), helping to guide our wandering so that we could poke a nose into the lavish gentry homes where you could access the central courtyard to see their impressive domains. With dark, heavy wood balconies and floorboards, it was incredible to see what great shape these buildings were still in. They promise to be standing long after some of our modern structures have caved!

Long past lunch o’clock, we hit the highway to get to the capital for a bite and an explore. Chris expertly navigated us to a central parkade so we were soon enjoying a pizza Compostelana near the Plaza de España.

Another tourist office produced another valuable map. Santa Cruz de Tenerife had a compact centre of town jam-packed with wonderment. Squares, monuments, artwork, gardens and architecture… all within an easily walkable collection of blocks. Real good bang for sight-seeing buck!

A highlight was concluding with an underground visit to the San Cristóbal castle’s foundations. Constructed in 1575 and having secured the city through several momentous battles, the castle was unfathomably demolished in 1928. The remains were only rediscovered in 2006 during a remodel of Plaza Espana, whereafter the city created a free exhibit accessible from just off the seaward side of the square. Along with a section of the excavated heavy stone wall, you could see the infamous El Tigre canon that legend contends is responsible for taking Lord Nelson’s arm in battle in 1797!

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 5: Lanzerote

LANZEROTE
15 March 2025

With a slightly later start, the morning trot on the treadmill in the gym on the cruise ship had a spectacular view of the sunrise as we approached the island of Lanzerote on the horizon. A hearty breakfast later and we were there.

The port of Arancife was quite different to those at which we’d arrived on the other islands. The long row of masts on the yacht-lined harbour looked a bit like a palisade fence between us and the white block flat-roofed buildings along the shoreline.

First stop was in the former capital, Teguise, for a walk around the old town to view the Parish of Lanzerote, a building from 1418, as well as the museum that dated from the 1500s. The shops were starting to open up (not a bad life for the locals retailers, considering it was almost 11am on a Saturday) and atmosphere was building in the old town. We reckoned it might get quite festive later in the day.

Using the map we got at the car rental office, we navigated to Lanzerote’s most northernmost point. Amazing how different the landscape was; the feels of a desert with sandy patches and cactuses, but then also a rugged carpet of bright green shrubby foliage. Peculiarly, there were big chunks missing from the sides of several of the koppies; although likely an uninteresting explanation like wind erosion, it was more amusing to imagine that something other-worldly had taken massive bites out of them.

The town of Orzola was a bit of a wash with little going on besides the port to catch the ferry to La Graciosa, an island that offered a change of scenery just a hop across the bay. After a bit of a wander – and some souvenir shopping at the local supermercado for the mothers – we were back in the car.

Twenty minutes and superb scenery later we were in Caleta de Famara. With little to no internet on the trip, we had no idea what to expect. Pulling into the village we found 3 or 4 neat rows of the same white block houses, but this time with wide sandy roads between them instead of the impeccable tarmac we’d seen in all the others before.

It soon became evident that we were in surfers’ paradise. Every shop was something surf related – gear, lessons, branded merch – or a seafood restaurant. The sea itself was dotted with surfers in wetsuits bobbing on their boards, awaiting their wave. A sandy crescent of sunbathers watched the show. There really was little else to do.

After a stroll along the promenade and an amble back through the ‘burbs, we made our way to the west of Lanzarote to see what we could see.

Again, the terrain changed radically and we were soon surrounded by black lava fields that were described in the travel brochures as looking like being on Mars. The typically-Lanzerote white houses in the town of Tinajo seemed even whiter against the stark backdrop. So odd to see the black granules where green lawn should be in the local residents’ front yards.

The last stop for the day was the Parque Nacional de Timanfaya but by the time we got there, we reckoned we’d seen enough of the volcanic landscape to warrant giving the drive through the park a miss to just see more of the same. Some snaps at the gate and we ticked it off as done.

We had by now travelled far enough south that our trip would complete with a 22km slice to the east to get back to Arrecife. Before you could say ‘eating again’, we were on Deck 11 enjoying snacks and drinks to see us through to another fabulous dinner and evening of entertainment to bid farewell to our wonderful week of cruising around the Canary Islands as we arrived back in Tenerife.

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 4: La Palma

LA PALMA
14 March 2025

Settling into our new life in the serviced restaurant on Deck 5 of the MSC Opera, we started the day with an order of the generous Full English (known in international waters as the MSC Express) to celebrate our arrival in the port of La Palma.

Having made no prior arrangements for this small island we left ourselves in fate’s hands, reckoning that if we could get a car we would drive down south, and if not then we would just have a wander around the town. With a very civilised 11am docking in Santa Cruz de La Palma, it was easy to be fed and ready at the gates when disembarking opened. Joining the queue at the first car rental agency, we were soon the proud new renters of an Alfa Tomeo Tonale, and off we set.

A little free WiFi from trusty McDonald’s (conveniently located on the port, right next to the car park) allowed us to download an offline Google Map to see us to the sights.

On approaching the island, we had appreciated it from our vantage point on the ship as a steep green mound with clusters of brightly coloured block buildings clinging to the base at the shoreline. Now, approaching it on land, we found ourselves winding along the side of the mound, carving and curving slowly upward. It was getting noticeably colder and darker as we climbed, with the mountainside getting greener as we approached the steep bit at the top that disappeared into a soft grey cloud.

The first stop was at San Antonio volcano to take a short trot to the crater. Having last erupted in 1677, the area was well restored with vegetation. The Visitors Centre was a €9 entry fee so we gave that a skip, in favour of driving down to the southern tip.

Winding down the steep hillside, we marvelled at the vast stone walls that had been created to retain the rocks and create functional terraces. Mostly to grow bananas, it would seem. Banana trees as far as the eye could see.

Reaching the coast, we marvelled at Playa de Echentive beach. It had been naturally formed when the Teneguia Volcano erupted in 1971 leaving an abundance of pebbles and gravel. The result was a black hill of granular lava rocks down to the grey beach of lava sand. Parts of the cove were sheltered from the choppy sea and the sign said that these rock pools were calm all year round.

Following the main road around the tip took us to the salt pans at Salinas Fuencalientes. While it had been very cold and slightly wet up at the volcano, it was warm and sunny at the coast; amazing microclimates! We were surprised and delighted with a bonus duet of lighthouses, a self-guided salt pan tour and a restaurant and visitors centre where we could buy some of the freshly harvested salt, flavoured or plain.

Little known (to us anyway), La Palma has a wine route. Ready to whet whistles, we stopped at a winery we had seen recommended twice – in a guide book and on a board at the lighthouses. The host at Bodegas Carballo invited us in and took us through a flight of their reds, white, rose and of course their local sweet wine made with the malvaisa grape. The reds were pretty good so we supported local business by procuring a bottle as a keepsake.

With our itinerary completed, we retraced our footsteps back around the mountain and alongside the steep rock faces with a lot more confidence than on our way there. We were all smiles about our little adventure as we reboarded our cruise ship and celebrated our day, while wondering what Lanzerote would have in store for us the following day.

Canary Islands, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 2: Fuerteventura

FUERTEVENTURA
11 Mar 2025

It was wonderfully convenient going to bed in Gran Canaria and waking up in Fuerteventura! Having experienced the vast buffet on our first morning, we were generous with our time allowance for breakfast on Day 2. Timing it well, we disembarked from the ship at Puerto del Rosario on the islands of Fuerteventura no more than a few minutes later than planned… and almost an hour before we were scheduled to pick up our hire car, conveniently located right on the quayside.

Minor flutters when the car hire kiosk was still closed when we got there. Always one for immediate action, Chris approached the neighbouring car hire kiosk to rent us another car. We’d no sooner started the paperwork when the attendant from original car hire company arrived and we were hooked up with our booked vehicle.

Jumping into our Hyundai i20, we were off on our adventure. We had done our homework, lending from all of the excursions offered by the cruise line to create our own highlights tour route. Thus, we were off to the North of the island to the sand dunes of Correlejo.

The landscape was not at all what we expected. Everything in the Canaries being named Palmas this-and-that conjures images of tropical paradise. Yet, the view on either side of the highway was barren with sand-coloured mounds. The ground was so rocky and granular that it looked like instant coffee that had been poured from the heavens.

Soon enough the horizon started to soften as we approached Correlejo, famed for its beautiful beaches and the dunes in the surrounding Parque (nature reserve). Spotting a tour bus, we reckoned that it must be a recommended photo stop so we pulled over and wandered around the soft sand dunes on the sea side and the gravelly arid desert on the other side of the road.

Now at the northern tip of Fuerteventura with our mission accomplished, it was time for an about-turn to traverse the island through the central route that promised dramatic landscapes and quaint little villages.

We were treated to both sooner than expected, when 10km later we were in La Oliva, self-described “village steeped in history”. We visited the traditional Mercado (market) and sampled banana wine (dreadful) before putting a nose in at the 17th century La Candelaria church, to light a candle in the name of our fathers. The landscape was indeed dramatic and the handful of palmtree-lined streets marked this pinhead of a town as a veritable oasis in the middle of the desert.

Back on the road, we passed the Montana de Tindaya landmark and (not for the first time) wished we had Google to shed light on why this sole koppie was mentioned as a place of interest on many of the excursions. For now it would have to remain a mystery, as would the ongoing debate about what the good people of Fuerteventura do for a living on this meticulously-kept remote little landmass.

The next village, Betancuria, proudly announced itself with a signboard saying it was bestowed the honour of being one of the prettiest villages in Spain. It was also clearly the busiest village on the island with loads of tourists busses and so many cars that the public lot was full, prompting us to move on without stopping.

The drive to the next town was a hair-raising sequence of tight twists and turns on very narrow road cutting across and through the mountains. While we enjoyed spectacular vistaramas, Chris white-knuckled us past a couple of busses and more than a couple of irresponsible and inconsiderate drivers cutting it very fine as they approached us from the opposite direction.

We were deposited in pretty little Pajara, which was exactly what you’d expect of a village described as having a “laid-back sleepy atmosphere” on an island that wasn’t exactly pumping. Lucky us, there was a market in the church square so we could have a wander around while admiring the Aztec-inspired church that was the central draw card. Mother was under the impression that Canaries was famed for basket-making… and there there was not a basket to be had at the craft market; the search would have to continue.

Last stop on the road trip was Antigua, with its famous cheese farm and museum. We made short work of a self-guided tour around the shop, having decided that getting an education on the process of cheese-making (goat or otherwise) was not for us.

With a short hop on open roads to close the loop, we deposited the car back at the rental agency, ensured the mothers were safely re-embarked, and Chris and I took the opportunity for a bit of an explore of the beachfront bit of Puerto del Rosario, where our cruise ship had docked in Fuerteventura.

Clearly a seaside vacation destination, there were many holiday apartments lining the promenade locations with restaurants and shops at street level. We entered the big shiny mall to see what Canarian retail looked like – and were delighted by how many sneaker shops there were! We could have spent all day (and a fortune) there under different circumstances.

After a flit past McDonalds for some free WiFi to download offline Google maps, what we’d missed in civilisation and do a quick Duolingo lesson, we headed back to the ship, fancying ourselves a sundowner beer to close the busy day.

Who should we see there? The mothers. Who had discovered that there was High Tea served on Deck 11 at 4pm! We got the lowdown from their reccie of the cake selection. Although that wasn’t our cup of tea for the moment, we found space for a slice of pizza from the 24 hour cafe that had been calling our names since we boarded.

Barely finished sundowners, it was time to suit up for dinner. Tracksuit, that is.

Tucked into our usual booth we recounted the day’s adventures and all we had seen and done, somehow managing to squeeze in another 3 course meal along the way. We had to chivvy a little since with a Day at Sea (and thus a later start) to follow, we had pre-decided to do the Quiz and the show at the Theatre after dinner.

Scuttling out of our booth with mere minutes to spare, we expertly navigated to the lounge where the Quiz was to be held and found ourselves seats around a low table that would allow for discrete consultation on tricky questions. It was very exciting that we were tied with 3 other teams… and then Chris swept the title with an ace on the sudden death question, winning himself an MSC-branded running hat.

On a bit of a high, we made our way to the theatre where we were treated to spectacle called Voyage, with song-and-dance themed routines from London, Paris and Rome. Fantastic!

Canary Islands, Europe, Madeira, Spain

Travelogue Canary Islands 1: Las Palmas

LAS PALMAS DE GRAN CANARIA
09 – 10 March 2025

It was bittersweet to plan our trip to the Canary Islands. As one of the few cruises my folks had not done, it had seemed a fitting family reunion and send-off for Pappy’s ashes. Sadly, passport admin prevented our Irish family from meeting up with us, but we decided to go ahead with the mothers anyway as a something-to-look-forward to holiday after a particularly tough 2024.

We spent the next few months planning and booking and debating and packing. And then we were off! Up in the sky on a Lufthansa flight through Frankfurt to meet the MSC Opera cruise ship in Las Palmas, the capital of Tenerife.

Having made no transfer arrangements, we struck luck spotting an MSC representative as we walked through into the Arrivals Hall. There was a cruise shuttle waiting right outside to take us to the ship. Just short of an hour later, we’d completed our first excursion as the scenic bus route northward along the coastline to Santa Cruz, and were the first of our busload to check in.

Having been in transit for a considerable amount of time and breakfast seeming like a distant memory, first order of business on the ship was to find lunch. Which we did with vigour and purpose at the buffet restaurant. A long horseshoe of delicious things had us loading our over-sized plates with more food than any one person should be allowed at a single sitting!

On conclusion, we located our cabins and realised that the mothers had been erroneously allocated a double cabin with a lifeboat completely obscuring their window, when they should have had a twin with a view. That would not be! With prompt escalation, their amendment was soon in motion – and resulted in an upgrade to a much bigger and nicer cabin.

After a bit of an explore around the lounges, bars, shops, pools and games areas, the labyrinth of a ship started taking shape in our mind-maps, giving natural perspective and orientation to front vs back and the various decks. It was soon time to wander over to the lucky draw at the Spa; we  came up dry, but took the win on how expertly we’d navigated to the correct side of the correct deck first time.

This left us an hour and a bit to rest and recover in time for our dinner in the main restaurant, where we had pre-booked the 18h30 sitting for the duration. Having splashed on the Dine & Drinks drinks package, we were soon doing exactly that. A lot too close to our feast at lunchtime, truth be told! Still, we soldiered through our 3 courses and a mix of white and red wines over our first meal experience in our allocated booth for dinners for the week.

Exhausted from the journey and pleased to be able to be horizontal for the night, we were soon ensconced in our respective cabins, welcoming the clean, smooth white linen and drifting off to the gentle rhythm of the motion of the ocean as our sea hotel moved on to the next port.

MONDAY

Since our itinerary had us spending a few nights on Gran Canaria at the end of the trip, we felt no obligation to splash out on any formal excursions on our first day. We did find a Hop On Hop Off bus for Las Palmas that stopped right outside the cruise port, which would be a wonderful way to get a low-effort lay of the land.

Indulging on an enormous multi-course buffet breakfast – rationalising that we would need to keep up our strength on the bus tour all day – we waddled off the ship to the bus stop.

The route was about an hour and a half in total and we were happy to view most of the spread-out sights in Las Palmas from the bus, with the audio guide filling in details about what we were seeing, as well as the usual factoids about the life and people of the place.

We learned that Las Palmas dates back to Neolithic settlers who lived in caves and was the first port in the Canary Island. It now sees more than a million passengers pass through every year, largely thanks to its reputation as ‘the City of Eternal Spring’ (around 18-26 degrees all year round) and having some of the best urban beaches in the world. Home to 400 000 people, it is the biggest city in the Canaries and the 9th biggest in Spain. It is also the sister city of San Antonio, Texas.

We did hop off the bus at the Las Palmas Old Town, to see the famous St Ana church and the charming square and cobbled streets surrounding it. It was a pleasure to enjoy the moderate early afternoon sunshine while absorbing the scenery.

When the bus returned to the quayside stop, we parted ways with the mothers, who were on the hunt for a bevvy, while we were eager to explore the La Isletta peninsular on foot. We discovered a bustling waterfront area with holiday-makers tanning and swimming in the bluer-than-blue sea, or eating and drinking at the many cafes that lined the promenade.

We decided we would return with the troops during our Gran Canaria stay at the end of our trip. The mothers were very pleased with our discovery and decision, when we found them very settled on Deck 11 and flexing their drinks package to create their own sundowner event. We had all adjusted quite well quite quickly to cruise life.

Cyprus, Europe, Travelogue

Travelogue Cyprus 2: Nicosia

NICOSIA

06 – 07 April 2024

Having had our beach day in Ayia Napa cut short by a flat tyre, we rearranged our itinerary for Day 3 to include a couple of extra beachy things. Not hard to do by taking a jog down to Larnaca’s own blue flag Makenzy Beach and then adding a first stop in Pyla, 20 minutes down the coast, onto our road trip for a beachfront brunch.

As we entered the sleepy beachy town, we were drawn to a place called Gregory’s Coffee & Greek Bakery. We had high hopes there was a golden thread in the similarity of name to the brilliant Gregg’s experiences we had had in Newcastle and Belfast.

Grabbing the second-last available table, we soon had flaky Greek pastries in hand. A spinach and feta for authenticity and a bacon Stromboli (a pie that tasted like a pizza stuffed with bacon) for good measure. Basking in the moderate morning Mediterranean sun and peeping over flaky-pastry pies at the glistening sea was a worthy consolation for the circumstances that had led us there.

Back on the road, we set sights on Lympia; chosen for no particular reason other than a road trip necessitating stops and its position halfway along our short drive for the day.

Sadly there was little to see in the small suburban town so we followed the road sign to neighbouring Dali, which promised archeological ruins and an accompanying museum.

Two for two, we found both to be closed on Saturdays, much like we had missed the operating hours of the ruins and museum in Larnaca. Clearly Cyprus was for more fastidious travel planners than us in order to foresee such things.

With only 27km left to Nicosia, try as we might, there was not a place of interest to stop en route. We thought we might stop in “Lefkosia”… only to find that this was the alternate name for Nicosia – and seemed to be used interchangeably. A quick Google revealed that Nicosia was a Latin and English name used for the city post the medieval crusades. Lefkosia / Lefkosa were the traditional Greek and Turkish names respectively. Interesting.

We arrived at our destination a couple of hours ahead of schedule. The Kipros Accommodation hotel was, well, accommodating of our early arrival and showed us to our complimentary parking and then to our suite.

With a little extra time on our hands, we consolidated our map and Google searches to define a plan. We had the info on the stops on our intended walking tour the next morning, so mapped a route that would fill in the gaps of what else we could see and do in Nicosia.

This would be a short Nicosia walking tour of that would include the Liberty Monument, the UN buffer zone and the Famagusta Gate, as well as a smattering of religious buildings and museums.

We had chosen our hotel for its location, which paid off immediately. Hitting the streets, we were one road away from the famous Ledra pedestrian street, which took us right to the historical landmarks we wanted to see.

We were not really surprised to find that all the museums in Nicosia were already closed – some at midday and others not open on weekends at all – and again mused that dream job would be as a museum custodian in Cyprus. A 30-hour work week sounded like a winning plan!

Having fulfilled the possible cultural requirements, we were able to commit ourselves to a late lunch. Being so close to the Turkish border justified a donner kebab. We were quite smug sitting opposite the McDonald’s and the Starbucks with our legit authentic (massive!) meal at O Salonikios Gyros Stavros. Lovin’ every bite of fresh chicken and pork dripping with creamy garlic sauce and crunching from the salad garnish.

Finally finished and fully-fuelled, we were ready to approach the other side of Ledra. To our surprise, a couple of hundred metres down the road was the border crossing. And it was a free pass only requiring a flash of a passport. Which we happened to be carrying. So we went to Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus.

It wasn’t all it cracked up to be. Besides a lively market and handful of grill house restaurants, it didn’t have much of a vibe. We did a cursory wander around and then passed back across the border.

Back up the length of Ledra, we emerged at the far end to find a fabulous recreation area. The city of Nicosia had cleverly uplifted the centre of town at the base of the walls of the original medieval city.

Eleftheria (Liberty) Square now boasted ultra-modern chrome and glass bridge, ramps and walkways from the street level down to a streamlined and cultivated garden below with pretty water features and outsized surfboard-shaped benches for people to relax and enjoy the space. There were pop-up stalls under the bridge selling clothes and accessories, and music piped through the speakers. With the acoustics of the partially enclosed space, the energy was palpable.

Since we had been on our feet for hours and done more thousands of steps, we decided to take advantage of our hotel being so close to take a load off for bit before taking on the evening.

Googling What To Do in Nicosia revealed that there was a Blazin’ Vibes Street Festival at Eleftheria Square that night. What a win!

Emerging from the hotel, it was a quick trot down the road and round the corner. The Square was transformed after dark, with submerged lighting creating a literal glow around the whole area.

DJs had taken to the stage under the bridge so there was a bass beat drawing people in their droves down to the festival area.

There were more pop-up stalls, a big cocktail bar had been set up and there were people dancing and having a good time. Such fun.

We mingled and window-shopped, but not being cocktail folk, were not in for the long haul.

We were thirsty though, so headed into the kiosk opposite the festival area. The shopkeep was belting out classic Metallica so we lingered longer than necessary while buying our take-away drinks, amused that we were having more of a party in the mini-mart than at the mega-party!

SUNDAY

Chris had found a guided walking tour of the DMZ and UN Buffer Zone online and although it said tickets were no longer available – which we took to mean sold out – we thought we would take our chances and pitch up anyway. With tip-based tours, people often don’t arrive and we could make up for the shortfall.

We were at the UN Checkpoint at 10h00 as required…. But there was nobody there. We waited 15 minutes and then gave up.

Now we had the whole of Sunday to kill since we’d put all our eggs in the walking tour basket. It was supposed to be 3 hours, and stimulate the ‘what next’ activities for the afternoon based on areas of particular interest and/or guide recommendations.

No point crying over spilt milk though. We did a quick Google for alternatives and soon realised that it was Sunday – a big roast lunch day in many cultures – and we had not yet eaten.

We decided to find a nice wine warm for a leisurely lunch excursion.

Santa Irene Winery had rave reviews for its buffet and wine tastings, so the die was cast and we were soon off in the rental car.

It was wonderful to exit the city (even as tame as it was compared to our hometown and all its urban chaos) and enter the countryside, into the more mountainous region.

I will admit to being concerned as the digital thermometer on the dashboard dipped below 20 degrees. In our haste, we’d jumped in the car still in T-shirts and shorts, not packing any warmer layers.

Although quite chilly and now starting to drizzle, it was warmer in the winery building. We were the first to arrive for the lunch sitting, which was served in a large hall with floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, offering spectacular views of the surrounding area.

We were advised that we were too early and the buffet was not yet ready. We could, however, use the time to sample a few of the wines to decide what to have with lunch. Splendid use of time!

We were led to the large L-shaped stone counter. Our enthusiastic sommelier pulled bottle after bottle out of fridges, off shelves and from far reaches on the counter. He expertly screwed out corks and rubber re-sealed bottles as he seamlessly trickled tasters into glasses, shared wisdom about the variant and educated about the local grape, Mavra.

It was a lot on an empty belly! But we enjoyed it immensely and, as an added bonus, the owner came over to talk to us and was delighted that we were South African as he’d lived in Pietermaritzburg for many years, and his son still did. Small as the world is, Christian’s sister’s family was friendly with the son and his family!

Our sommelier endorsed our choice of red wine for the lunch and was so pleased that we ordered another 4 bottles to take with us that he spontaneously offered us a private viewing of the production cellar below the tasting room. There would be a group tour after lunch, but narrated in Greek and he wanted us to take the full story away with us and our collection. It was quite a bit colder downstairs so thankfully we could do the walk-through at pace in our ill-suited attire.

Quite giddy from the wine and the experience, it was finally time for lunch.

The buffet lived up to promise, with a wide range of Greek and Cypriot traditional food. We feasted on roasted lamb and pork souvlaki, a delicious pork and onion stew which I vowed to remember the name of (and have, of course, forgotten), light and tender calamari, cod and another white flaky fish of sorts, roast potato wedges and pasta dish that was similar to lasagne but with layers of macaroni, pork mince and a thick layer of béchamel on the top.

As full as we were, we still had the cheek to sample ALL of the desserts, which included two milk tart type things, cheesecake, chocolate cake, crème caramel, little doughnut/koeksuster crunchy syrupy balls and, our favourite, orange cake.

First to arrive and almost last to leave, we virtually rolled out of Saint Irene.

The 50 minute drive home was full of ideas about what to do with our evening – that would most certainly not include another meal!

Returning to our hotel, we allowed ourselves a couple of hours of feet-up to let the massive meal settle. But then it was back out into the Nicosia night for a nosey around.

Almost as busy as Saturday night, Ledra was swarming with people enjoying a meal, a drink or a coffee in any of the many restaurants.

MONDAY

Closing off the sightseeing checklist, we returned (on foot, now easily navigating the twists and turns of the unsignposted city) to the Struggle Museum that we had tried to see on the first day.

It revealed that the history of Cyprus began in 1500BC through the Venetian and Roman Empires. Cyprus was then absorbed into the Ottoman Empire in 1546 and then ceded to Britain in 1878.

The British tried in 1915 to force the union of Cyprus and Greece to bring Greece into the First World War; Greece refused and maintained its neutrality. Similarly the British offered once again at the start of the Second World War, but retracted the offer once Greece was overrun by the Axis Powers.

Post WWII, many territories were keen on independence from the Commonwealth, as was Cyprus. They made a couple of applications to Great Britain to allow them to join union with Greece; both refused. They then organised a paramilitary force called EOKA to start campaigning civil disobedience, as well as ambushes and attacks on the British occupationary forces in Cyprus. The fighting continued from 1955-1959, when Cyprus finally got its independence (and did not form the union with Greece).

It looks from the exhibits in the museum to have been quite bloody skirmishing. The displays include numerous graphic boards showing the dead and dying up close, complete with emotively labelled names, eg ‘Hero XYZ who died after being tortured in {date}’.

There was a primary school tour in the museum at the same time as us and interestingly the small children were not sheltered from viewing the boards with the close-ups of the bullet-ridden bodies, the glassy eyes staring lifelessly from the corpses or gruesome dismembered victims of bomb explosions. Hopefully the brutal honesty of the destruction of war encourages the children of Nicosia to create a more peaceful future for their beautiful homeland.

Cyprus, Europe

Travelogue Cyprus 1: Larnaca

LARNACA

04 – 05 April 2024

It was a bumpy start to the holiday with heavily backed-up traffic en route to the airport (fortunately we had left early so this was little more than a minor inconvenience) and a power failure at OR Tambo shortly after our arrival.

Besides sitting in the near-darkness in the lounge, it meant that the check-in computers weren’t working. The manual process took considerably longer and with our seats being upfront and the embarkation being managed in blocks from the back seats first, we finally got to our seats about an hour behind schedule.

To top it off, the pilot shared the disconcerting news that 81 pieces of luggage were unaccounted for. It took another couple of hours to locate and load those… and then we were finally off.

The delay in take-off required a very hasty flit between terminals in Dubai to catch our connecting flight. The planned 3-hour stop worked in our favour and we arrived at the gate almost in synchronicity with the start of boarding.

We both managed to get some shut-eye on the second flight and felt almost human when we landed and collected our rental car to start our holiday.

The airport was really close to the city of Larnaca so barely 10 minutes later we arrived in our new neighbourhood.

Our hotel, White 11, was one road in from the beach and by stroke of good fortune, had the unmissable Medieval Fort at the end of said road as landmark to help us find our way back from our adventures.

We were soon to find that the Medieval Fort was the meeting point of the Finikoudes promenade that stretched out to the left (toward the town centre) and Piale Pasa promenade to the right (lined with restaurants). We decided that first order of business was to stroll each, to get our bearings.

A short distance along Piale Pashia revealed that we were in for a culinary treat this trip with an amazing selection of seafood platters and set menu meals for a very reasonable (relatively speaking, compared to our previous European trips) €30 for 2 people.

Comforted that we would be spoilt for choice for dinner, we did a U-turn to hit Finikoudes Promenade to start ticking off some of the sights and cultural drawcards of Larnaca. This would require a Tourist Office to get a map; both easily achieved, although by now it was well after 15h00 so we’d have to motor to see some things with most already closed or closing soon for the day.

The Archeological Museum was still open so we poked a nose in.

Larnaca, which was originally known as Kition, is the oldest city in Cyprus, having been founded by the Greeks in the 14th century BC and continuously inhabited for some 6000 years ago. It was known as Salines in Medieval times because of the salt lakes on the edge of the city, and only became Larnaca in the 18th century. This name was from the Greek word ‘larnax’ meaning ‘sarcophagus’ because of the numerous excavations.

Larnaca was an important commerce centre of copper before being used as a fort by the Phoenicians. Besides the archeological treasures, monuments and churches, Larnaca is now known for its beaches and accessibility via its international airport.

After our whirlwind ‘7000 years in 15 minutes’ tour, we made our way to the Archeological Site of Kition. Although only 15h45, the 16h00 closing time was already being observed. A shame really, since 15 minutes would have no doubt been more than enough time for us.

Still, it was very pleasant to retrace our steps along the commercial beachfront, with the hotels and restaurant chains (a combination of local and all the major American fast food chains) on the right and snack bar and curio pop-up shops on the left, on the edge of the beach.

Being Spring in Cyprus, it was warm (maybe 22 degrees) with a light cool breeze coming off the sea. This accounted for an amusing mix of some people in bathing suits and others in long pants and jumpers. We were in shorts and slops and doing well until after we stopped for our sundowner (at a Rock bar called Savino to log a €6 pint on our Guinness Index) whereafter we could have used closed shoes.

It wasn’t serious enough a situation to warrant a return to the hotel. But we did change our dinner choice.

The mission to find the rock bar had revealed a lively area one block in from the seafront. The vibe and the shelter from the sea breeze made for a far more sustainable evening.

We picked a kebab restaurant called Takis based on a cursory scan of the customers who, to us, looked like locals. The hostess offered us a cosy table for 2 inside and our fate was sealed.

We were served menus with a tableful of complementary small meze plates and warm toasted pita strips. We nibbled on the feta, cured bacon, tzatziki, spicy beans and a local delicacy called kolokasi (Taro root), while avoiding the very salty olives.

We ordered kebabs in pita for mains, to be washed down with a shared quart of KEO local lager. My sheftalia (herby pork sausage) and marinated pork mix was sublime! Chris had the chicken wrapped in bacon, which was also a guaranteed win. The pitas were enormous and not an easy ‘pick up and eat’, so we stole glances at how others were managing them and lent from their experience. My favoured method was tearing bits from the top of the pita to fill and make mini bitesize pockets of goodness.

We were surprised and delighted with complementary dessert pastries as well. Crunchy syrupy 2-bite pie with an unrecognisable and delicious spongy centre.

Exhausted from our trip and Day One exploring, we made our way back to the hotel. As tired as we were, we wished we had a little further to walk off the massive dinner!

FRIDAY

Using our Strava sports app as our guide, Chris mapped a 6km running route to start the day off right.

In no particular hurry, we stopped a few times to take snaps of interesting things and to admire the blue ocean and Larnaca’s shoreline.

We also spotted a small church square a couple of blocks from our hotel, which had a selection of bakeries. We decided that we’d need to return at the end of our run to reward ourselves with breakfast pastries. We did so and drooled over the choices in Artemis bakery! Having so enjoyed our dinner the previous night, we banked on sheftalia and feta pie being a sure-fire hit. And it was!

With just enough fuel in our tanks to see us through to lunch, we showered and hit the road for Ayia Napa, 41km down the coast.

Our neighbouring town had become famed as a Brits Abroad party and holiday destination. From the very arrival it was chalk-and-cheese with our homebase. New, slick and glossy, we could have been anywhere in the world. Wide golden sidewalks with shiny silver bollards preserving the walkways for the pedestrians that must stream to and from the beaches in the summer months.

Our tourist map (from the Larnaca tourist office the day before) had revealed that our places of interest were concentrated in the town centre, around Seferis Square. We located a parking lot and stowed the car so we could start our self-guided walking tour.

First photo was at the huge ‘Love Ayia Napa’ sculpture, which most certainly would make it into the holiday album. It was outside the Medieval Monastery, so an easy ‘two-fer’ on the To See list. We were unable to enter the 14th century monastery as it was being transformed (slowly by the looks of things) into a museum.

Then it was up the short hill (which in itself could have been marked on the map since this neck of the woods was so flat!) to what was marked as ‘Local Delicacies’ so we were expecting a market of sorts. Not so, it was 2 locally-legendary tavernas, the older of which was established in 1976 so got itself a photo anyway since we could both relate to the auspicious year.

The next stop, the Ayia Napa Aquaduct, was a little more tricky since it was not on a road marked on the map and very few of the roads had any signage so there was high risk of taking a wrong turn. We persevered and found the walking path to the historic construction.

Having seen several aqueducts around the world on our travels, we were no less amazed at the simple but effective technology that these civilisations were using over a thousand years ago… meanwhile back home the current-day government was struggling to literally keep water flowing through our taps!

Then it was back the way we came, down to the Liminaki port and Fishing Shelter where we’d initially planned on lunching. Being on a bit of a roll with sightseeing, we decided instead to drive to the nearby Sea Cave and Love Bridge that we’d planned as an after-lunch walk. We would then eat at either Nissi Beach (listed as one of the Top 25 most beautiful beaches in the world) or Makronissos Beach which paired with a necropolis archeological site of underground tombs.

It was not to be. Once again, our tyre curse struck. When we returned to the car, we discovered we had a flattish front right. This was a fully-flat tyre by the time we got to the nearest petrol station. Pumping with air didn’t help, so Chris set to work changing the tyre.

The spare was only an emergency tyre. One of the thin one’s –  referred to in South Africa as a ‘Marie Biscuit’ – on which you can only travel at a limited speed for a limited distance. With our ensuing roadtrip the next day that would see us travelling to Nicosia and through the mountains – very far from the car rental agency – we dared not risk starting on anything but the strongest footing possible.

So our wonderful beach-hopping plan had to be shelved in favour of returning to Larnaca Airport so we could get the tyres fixed good and proper.

Fortunately, the staff at the Sixt desk were both accommodating and efficient so we were back on our merry (not really, brave face) way about a half an hour later. By this point we were starving, so dropped off the car and hightailed to check out ‘Oh My Cod!’, which had caught our attention with its 5/5 rating on Google Maps from 195 reviews. Based on the simple principle that you can’t please all the people all the time, full marks never happens and we simply had to see for ourselves.

Highly motivated, we were there mere minutes later. Arriving at what could best be described as an elevated takeaway, we were seated at a plastic table in the ‘eat in’ section. There was a buzz of activity around us as the hostess managed reservations for the handful of tables, as she barked orders that kept the kitchen producing fabulous fresh fish at breakneck pace.

Definitely a case of ‘right place, right time’ as we only had to wait a few minutes before being presented with the platter we’d ordered so we could sample everything.

The Best fish croquettes we have ever tasted! Magnificently crunchy tempura prawn! Light and tender calamari! Perfect hand cut chips! Well played, Oh My Cod. Definitely full marks for review #196!

Full to bursting, we took a walk to the part of town we’d not yet explored. Our intended destination was The Oak Tree which offered tastings of a selection of Cypriot wines. We figured this would be a good grounding for our intended wine routing excursions inland… but with a bellyful of dinner we opted to rather continue walking it off.

We discovered the glitzy glamourous shopping district, with a generous collection of top-end brand names and upmarket cafe lifestyle vibe. Quite a contrast to the atmosphere on the seafront…. Which was more our speed, so we completed our loop and stopped in at The Navy Marine to wet our whistles.

We rounded off the evening with another Larnaca 5/5 Google review, Bowlers Pub (although only from 22 reviews this time). It was quite quiet when we arrived with a couple of lads playing pool and an older gent propping up the bar, talking to the bartender.

Up until this point we had been drinking local beer, KEO, so we thought we’d give the other local brew, Leon, a try. As is quite common, our accents on ordering stimulated a flow of questions about where we were from and what brought us to Cyprus.

This got the ball rolling for a couple of hours, a couple of beers and lots and lots of anecdotes and factoids about Cyprus, its history and some of its current challenges. The bartender was the owner, Petros, who clearly earned his bar’s great reviews through his personal touch (and his playlist apparently; he was flipping CDs in between serving rounds and holding court). He and another local propping up the end of the bar (a Brit who had grown up in an RAF base in and now had retired to Larnaca) kept us entertained until home-time beckoned.

Cyprus, Europe, Travelogue

Travelogue Cyprus 5: Limassol

LIMASSOL

13 – 16 April 2024

We had the main event of our trip right at the end. Said event was a half marathon, so it was a touch counter-intuitive after all the feasting and festivities in the warm-up fortnight.

That said, Saturday’s tasks were to get from Paphos to Limassol (where the race would be held the next morning), get our race packs and try stay off our feet and as well rested as a holiday weekend would allow.

Luke and I did a morning jog along the Paphos promenade as a warm-up and to get a photo of the Castle at the end of the Port that had proved elusive in our sightseeing. Alex and Chris went on a different, but equally important, mission to Starbucks to sort out their caffeine fix and to the supermarket to get bread, cheese and ham to make toasties… which Alex was already busy doing when Luke and I arrived home.

Very sorry to say goodbye to our fantastic holiday house, we set off to explore new places.

Chris had planned our route to take us past Aphrodite’s Rock and through the town of Pissouri. Snaking and climbing through the narrow streets of the latter got us to a viewing point that offered a spectacular panoramic view of the coastline below.

It was a bit of a culture-shock pulling in to Limassol, which was by far the biggest city we’d seen on our travels. Cresting a hill on the outskirts revealed a sprawl of buildings hugging the coast as far as the eye could see. With a population of 154000 compared to Paphos’s 35000, it certainly felt like we’d arrived in the big smoke (although still nothing compared to Johannesburg’s 6 million!)

We had chosen our apartment for its location, an easy walking distance from the Limassol Marathon start line in Molos Park.

It took some doing to find the building in the narrow streets and one-way roads that satellited from the main road that ran alongside the promenade and that housed our entrance. Once we’d honed in on it, finding parking was another story!

We needed to go get our race numbers anyway, so did a very quick bag drop-off and kept moving.

Who should we bump into at the ticket office? The entire UK contingent (Alex and Luke’s Bootcamp buddies) who had also come to collect their tickets. We’d told Chusa and Lee we would wait for them (they had come from Paphos on the bus), so the whole extended group made ourselves comfy in the lounge area under the marquee to be the welcoming committee and got group photos to commemorate the occasion.

We decided on a late lunch at the marina, so dropped off Chusa and Lee at their apartment (about 800m from ours) and then succumbed to a paid parkade a couple of blocks inland from us so we knew our car would be safe – and accessible the next day if we needed it since our area would all be blocked off for the race.

Once our party was reunited, we walked along the promenade to the marina. Chusa and Lee had been to Limassol 6 years prior (also for the marathon) so had a traditional taverna in mind.

We were marginally waylaid as we encountered the Colchester Boot camp crew, who had established Drink Camp on the terraced steps at Ventuno Aperitivo on the Square at the Old Port. Katie had commandeered a hobby-horse of sorts and was cantering up and down in front of her jeering buddies. We checked in briefly, before making a concerted effort towards lunch.

Time had only done Kipriakon taverna proud and we all committed to the traditional menu, with Moussaka (aubergine bake), Pasticio (oven-baked pork and bechamel pasta), and Tsavas (lamb and onion stew) being the order of the day.

We had told the Boot Camp crowd that we would meet them after our meal, but since we had languished somewhat, they were already gone when we passed back through the square.

Either Limassol is a small world, we were predictable or fate intervened, but we still ended up passing them en route back to our neck of the woods… Where we had already set our sights on an Irish bar called Rums Pub, so we passed pleasantries as each headed in the opposite direction.

With a big race the next day, we took it very easy and nursed a Guinness to within an inch of its life while chatting with our mates. We also didn’t want a heavy meal or a long night in a restaurant to contend with, so Alex made the suggestion that we ‘carbo-load’ with 2-minute noodles at our apartment, which was pure genius!

So much for being ‘off our feet’; we had almost 20,000 steps clocked!

SUNDAY

And then it was Race Day!

We were up at the (relative) crack of dawn, each observing our own prep protocol. Then it was off to the Cafe Nero across the road to meet our race buddies and walk slowly and gently to the start line.

I took my place in Block 1, waiting for the starting gun… BANG! We were off.

Left, right, left, right, look at the scenery, grab a water bottle, left, right, left, right. It was a long 21km! With sea-level air and a flat there-and-back course on our side, both Chris and I set a Personal Best on the course. Hooray!

Since some of the Colchester Boot Camp squad had run the 10km and finished before us, it was fabulous to have a welcome committee at the finish line to cheer us in. They were a spirited crew, so even though we had only known each other for a matter of hours, they cheered like we were old friends.

Once our group had gathered, we took time to return to our apartment (since it was so conveniently across the road) for a toilet stop, shower and change, and then it was off to lunch.

Everywhere was busy. There were still Limassol Marathon runners on the field so the roads were still closed and the promenade blocked off for participants approaching the finish line. A band had struck up on the Old Port Square, and a crowd was starting to gather with jubilant finishers celebrating their achievements.

We scored because the Boot Camp crew had once again assumed the position on the same terraced steps we had met them on the day before. With the size of their group, we were easily able to pull up chairs, share war stories about our race and commiserate about the tricky bits on the course.

Hunger will out though, and we had to leave our thirsty friends behind in order to refuel our very-empty tanks.

Being Sunday and with all the extra race traffic, the lunch sitting was full to bursting along the whole marina. We were very lucky to catch the eye of the host at the same spot we had lunched the previous day and he made a plan to bring an extra table into play for us. It meant that we had half of us in the sun and half enjoying the shade at any point – and we tried to circulate so nobody got too fried.

With a second go at the all-round-tempting menu, we were able to sample the halloumi ravioli, calamari and the biggest pork chop you have ever seen! It reached from end-to-end on my rectangular plate, gently cupping my chips and sauce above its shiny smile shape.

The service wasn’t great because the restaurant was so busy so we were there much longer than planned. And really needed to get a bit of a walk-around in before our tired legs seized and said that they could not!

Moving inland, we did an explore of the Old Town. There was a medieval castle surrounded by cafes, bars and restaurants that we probably should have lunched in, had we had the energy for risk-taking on our earlier forage.

Always game, the troops found space for an ice-cream and we soaked up the atmosphere from a park bench in the middle of the action before retreating to our respective quarters for some downtime after a very long day.

Our regroup for dinner was at the Limassol Agora food court in the original market in the Old Town. With a broad selection of street food stalls and a variety of entertainment options, it sounded like ‘something for everyone’.

However, it was very noisy and we were beyond shouting at each other to be heard, so we swiftly moved on.

I had spotted a locals souvlaki take-away that scored off the charts on Google Maps. Since it had a dine-in area attached, we figured it was worth a shot. We ordered a broad selection off the menu at Souvlaki Livadeias and ate like kings at a fraction of the cost of a high street restaurant equivalent. We vowed to try copy the roasted feta parcel on the braai when we got home!

MONDAY

There was so much pressure on our last day to live up to all the antics and adventures of the rest of the trip.

Alex and Luke had requested some beach time, to make the most of the sunshine which was not as commonplace on their side of the pond as on ours. So Chris planned a bit of a road trip that would take us to some nearby beaches with a few stops along the way.

The first was The Cyprus Wine Museum in Erimi. We had sampled so much local wine over the course of our trip that it seemed prudent to add the theoretical education to our practical one.

The custodian seemed surprised to have customers and scurried from her feet-on-desk position to open the entrance doors for us.

She gave us a brief running order for the tour, where she would give us an intro and overview, then orientate us to the two rooms of exhibitions, then set away an 11 minute video for us to watch before taking us to the cellar where we could taste one wine for €5 or the range for €10.

The exhibits told the story of the value of wine to Cyprus, allegedly being the birthplace of wine in the form of its sweet Commanderia variant. The wine was so envied that it made Cyprus the target of invasions by the various global-domination empire-builders across history.

The video was awful. 11 long minutes of PowerPoint presentation with slides of artefacts like clay wine pots animating in and out to grossly mismatched ominous piano music. We giggled as we tortured ourselves to complete the show so as not to insult our hostess.

Sapped of the will to wine – and since we hadn’t yet eaten – we skipped the tasting and moved on to Kourion Beach.

By now starving, we settled at a deck table at the quite-swish Chris Blue Beach restaurant to enjoy the beach view over a lovely lunch, which we then settled with some downtime on the sand and frolicking in the sea.

We had discovered on the map that there still existed two British enclaves on the island, as agreed in 1960 when Cyprus got independence. We had missed the one in Famagusta when we’d visited Nicosia, but could still get bragging rights for a flit to the UK by visiting the peninsula near Limassol.

Taking the opportunity en route back from the beach, we drove through the sovereign area. From the swathe of pylons and telecoms lines, it was clear that this base was used for surveillance. With Cyprus being so close to the Middle East, there were a couple of likely suspects of whom that might be at any given time.

We would not be getting mixed up in all of that though; we would be crossing a Salt Pan to get to the Lady’s Mile beach.

With no actual road, Chris deftly navigated between the orange cones that – we presumed – indicated the preferred route on the golden sand. The water in the salt pan was twinkling on our right, bright cyan from the shallow highly salinated water. The sea was directly in front of us, with the Limassol shoreline on the horizon. We could clearly cross-reference the landmark highrise buildings to spot (more or less) our proverbial neck of the woods.

Last tourist stop on the agenda was a visit to the blue flag beach at the far end of the Limassol promenade. We hazarded a guess that we had run close to there the previous day… but there was no way we’d manage it on foot two days in a row!

We made the most of the warm late afternoon sun lazing on towels on the soft sand and then celebrated the sunset with a sundowner on the terrace restaurant.

Our last supper choice had been an obvious one. A fabulous restaurant called Meze that we had all noticed on our way into town and that scored very highly on Google. It was also conveniently two blocks from our apartment, so an easy walk on stiff legs.

We invited Chusa and Lee – who had gone on a day tour to Nicosia – to join us, so we could swap stories about our respective adventures.

Meze was, obviously, a specialist in meze-style meals which comprise of several small dishes that are shared by the table. We were served warm pita bread with little bowls of olives, peppers, hummus, tahini, tzatziki and so on… and then more dishes with grilled lamb souvlaki and chops… and then a selection of sausages… and then crumbed and deep-fried haloumi with buttery grilled mushrooms… the food just kept coming!

By the time the waiter finally announced that he was serving the last dish – a crunchy syrupy dessert course – we thought we would burst!

Fortunately the restaurant wasn’t in any rush to push us out the door, so we had time to sip it wine and let the enormous meal settle a little. While making the most of our last memory-making Limassol moments together, giggling and happily snapping last photos.