With more than 320 days of sunshine a year, Cyprus is a year-round holiday destination, perfect for escaping the winter blues. At least that’s what all the guidebooks say. But what if you happen to visit in the 45 day period when there is no sunshine? What if you happen to visit when the great Lord above is unleashing all the water he’s stored up for 320 days, in one unfortunate week?
Landing in Paphos mid-torrential downpour is a depressing thing. The plummeting feeling when you step off a plane expecting heat and humidity, and are instead met with lots of cold and sogginess, is profound. When you should be strolling gleefully through the airport’s front doors, headfirst into a week of relaxation, you instead find yourself sprinting for a taxi, falling headfirst into the backseat.
The only thought that occurred to me, as I sat in my hotel room that afternoon trying to work out how to salvage the week I’d been depending upon to brighten my winter blues, was that I must find a place to eat in Cyprus, to get out of the rain if nothing else.
The first eatery I came across declared itself to be a restaurant, though I’d have thought lackadaisical café would be a more apt description. It’s the kind of place that has a laminated menu with frayed edges offering five variations on a theme of rice. To my delight, and in complete contrast to the inauspicious setting, I had a fantastic meal, partly because I was dry, but mostly because I met Diego, a friendly regular keen to practice his English.
Diego was great company, and spent much of my meal telling me about his upbringing in the Algarve, his reasons for moving to Cyprus, and the fantastic cuisine that he had discovered since starting work as a fisherman along the island’s north coast. He was to become my Cyprus dining guide, I decided, a role he was all too happy to fulfil, and I was happy to give, seeing as it would provide some focus to my sodden plans.
Thanks to its eastern Mediterranean location, Cypriot cuisine is heavily influenced by Greece and Turkey, featuring vegetables such as courgettes, artichokes and aubergine, juicy fruits that are grown on the island, and some of the most succulent seafood that has ever touched my lips. Diego was particularly knowledgeable about the latter, and introduced me to octopus stew, stuffed calamari and Cyprus’ traditional salt cod. I’d have been happy eating those three things for the rest of eternity.
We went together for dinner each afternoon that week, sampling Mousaka, gyros, meat mezes and halloumi, Cyprus’ national cheese. The island has a fantastic selection of restaurants, many of which occupy idyllic locations, even in the rain! It’s especially rewarding to be taken by someone who knows the best places to head and the best dishes to eat, which, ironically, often turn out to be the cheapest places as well.
On my final day before heading back to the daily grind, Cyprus’ clouds departed and left in their wake a brilliant, naked, azure sky that was pierced by fantastically pure sunlight, a glimpse of what I had expected to define my week. But I was glad to have arrived in Cyprus’ short off-season, for it gave me the impetus to discover the island’s cuisine, and befriend an adopted local in the process.