Turkish Delight

One of the highlights of my time in Cyprus, both this trip and the trip 6 years ago, was the time I spent on the Northern, Turkish side of Cyprus.  If Cyprus feels like a different world, then The Turkish side seems almost magical.

Although crossing the border is sometimes an uncomfortable experience due to the political tensions on the island and the bombed out green line you pass through to get to the passport control (thankfully not patrolled this time by soldiers with machine guns), from the moment we crossed I was in love.

Greeting us, picture perfect in front of the mosque, were two flower vendors.  A casual stroll down the street led us to a side walk bazaar and the most amazing little shop just choc-a-bloc full of everything imaginable.  We lunched at a little outdoor cafe nestled beside the mosque.  We enjoyed the sunshine and the stillness and the occasional squeals of children while drinking Ayran - a salted yogurt drink that I am completely taken with.

Flower vendors outside of Saint Sophia Mosque (so named because it used to be Saint Sophia Roman Catholic Church).

Some of the wares for sale at the sidewalk bazaar.

Cafe beside Saint Sophia Mosque.

After lunch we headed out to explore more of the crooked, narrow streets.  Matthew pointed out how many of the old, concealed balconies can still be seen on this half of the island.  They jut out over the streets, shuttered and worn-looking but still beautiful.  That particular architectural feature is so prominent because it allows Muslim women to get fresh air and sunshine from the comfort of their own home and no one can see in.

Covered balconies.

Our meanderings eventually led us to the Haan, an old hotel that has been cleverly transformed into a modern market.  The two-storey structure encloses a courtyard that now boast an outdoor cafe and a wee little mosque in the centre.  Each individual room has been transformed into an artisan's stall.  We walked slowly around, admiring giant amphorae that I could have fit into and browsing all the unique wares - some beautiful, some mysterious.  I hated to leave, but eventually we had to.

The Haan. That is the mosque in the middle.

Giant Amphorae!

On the steps of the Haan.

A vendor's stall.

On our way back, we had a very touching experience with children that proved to me that people can care and communicate across any boundaries that might exist.  At one point Matthew and I came to a street that we needed to walk down to get to the border, but the street was filled with an ankle-deep puddle with no sidewalk.  We stood there for a few moments, pondering our situation while Matthew mentally reviewed whether he could remember another route home.  A group of children was playing nearby and one little boy must have sensed our need of help.  He came up to us chattering in Turkish and merrily hopped from one strategically-placed brick to another, and then hugged his way along the wall of a building, showing us how the locals bypass the puddle (and proving that this water was a continual problem).  He was very encouraging and very endearing and I managed to circumvent the puddle without too much difficulty, although I did rough up my hands a bit clinging to the rough wall.  Matthew, however, being larger than I had a few more problems and at one point got a little stuck.  By this time, we had attracted the rest of the children as an audience and they all seemed to be giving suggestions and encouragements and when Matthew finally forded the water they all cheered and waved us on.  We laughed back to the crossing, brushing cement dust off of one another.  We will probably never see those children again, but I will never forget them.  Despite a difference in age, race, religion and language, we had understood one another.  It was a beautiful few minutes.