Cyprus, as I Saw It in 1879

by Sir Samuel White Baker

At a distance of a mile from our camp we entered the new government road which connected Limasol with Platraes, thirty miles distant. The country quickly assumed an agreeable character; undulations and watercourses were more or less covered with trees, and the road scarped out of the steep sides exhibited the cretaceous formation similar to that between Larnaca and Lefkosia. Wild lavender was just blooming upon many portions of the way, while along the rocky courses of ravines the oleanders were in the richest blossom. The road was furnished with mile-posts, and the mules ambled along at a little more than five miles an hour. I found considerable fault in the low gradients (one in thirty), which had produced a road unnecessary for the vehicles of the country, at a proportionate outlay; it was altogether too good, and would have been excellent trotting-ground for a light phaeton and pair. As there was no such vehicle in the island, the beautifully traced highway exhibited a model of engineering that was scarcely appreciated by the natives, who invariably took the short and direct cuts to avoid the circuitous zigzags in descending the numerous valleys and in rounding the deep ravines. After a ride of twelve miles through a beautiful country, well wooded, and comprising a succession of wild hills and deep gorges, which formed torrents in the wet season, we arrived at a river flowing in a clear but extremely shallow and narrow stream beneath cliffs of cretaceous limestone. The banks were richly clad with rosy oleanders, myrtles, mastic shrubs; and the shade of several fine old plane-trees in full foliage invited us at once to halt immediately upon the edge of the rippling stream. This spot was known as Zigu, where an ancient stone bridge, with pointed arches, crossed the ravine about a hundred paces above the new wooden bridge erected by the Royal Engineers. This was a most charming spot for luncheon, and the dense shade of the planes was far more agreeable than the shelter of a wooden military hut that stood upon the height above and by no means improved the beauty of the view. Our dogs seemed to enjoy the change, and raced up and down the river's bed, delighted with the cold water from the mountains, fresh from the highest springs of Troodos Some cold roast pigeons, young and fat, and some hard-boiled eggs, formed our luncheon, together with bread and cheese. These were quickly despatched and the carpets being spread beneath the trees, an hour's nap was good for man while the mules rolled and then dozed in luxury upon the turf-like surface of the glen. I was awakened by the clatter of horse's hoofs, and Mr. Allen, the chief officer of the police of Limasol, appeared, having most kindly ridden after us with the post just arrived from England. Unfortunately not a crumb of luncheon remained, the dogs having swallowed our leavings. We now saddled, and continued the journey upon the firm surface of the new road.

When about fourteen miles from Limasol we entered upon a grand scene, which exhibited the commencement of the wine-producing district. The road was scarped from the mountain side several hundred feet above the river, which murmured over its rocky bed in the bottom of the gorge. We were skirting a deep valley, and upon either side the mountains rose to a height of about 1400 feet, completely covered with vineyards from the base to the summit; this long vale or chasm extended to the Troodos range, which towered to upwards of 6000 feet, at a distance of about fourteen miles immediately in our front. The vines were all green with their early foliage, and the surface of the hill-sides was most cheering, contrasting with the yellow plain we had left at Limasol.

The good road rendered travelling delightful after the stony paths that we had traversed for some months in Cyprus, and the time passed so rapidly that we could hardly believe the distance marked upon the nineteenth milestone, where it was necessary to halt for the arrival of our baggage animals. After waiting till nearly dark we found they had quitted the new road and preferred a short cut across country, which had led them to the village of Menagria down in the glen nearly a mile below us. We walked down the steep hill and joined the party, pitched the tent, and made ready for the night.

On the following morning, instead of adhering to the new road, we descended to the bottom of the gorge and crossed the river near some water-mills, as the bridge was not yet completed in the distant angle of the glen. We now ascended an exceedingly steep hill from the river's bed, which severely tried our animals, until, after passing a succession of cereal crops and vineyards, we arrived at the summit, about 1200 feet above the valley. From this point the view was magnificent. The pine-covered sides of Troodos appeared close before us, and a valley stretched away to our right richly clothed with trees below the steep vine-covered sides of the surrounding mountains. Keeping to our left and passing through several insignificant villages, we commenced a most dangerous descent, with an occasional deep precipice on the right of the extremely narrow path, until we reached a contracted but verdant glen. This was a remarkable change: we had suddenly entered one of those picturesque vales for which Devonshire is famous. The vegetation had changed to that of Europe, as we were now nearly 3000 feet above the sea. Apple and pear trees of large size were present, not in orchards, but growing independently as though wild. Dog-roses of exquisite colour were in full bloom, and reminded us of English hedges. Beautiful oak-trees scattered upon the green surface gave a park-like appearance to the scene, and numerous streams of clear water rippled though the myrtle-covered banks, over the deep brown rocks of the plutonic formation, which had now succeeded to the cretaceous limestone.

It was a curious geological division, limited by the glen: on the left, the hills and mountains were the usual white marls and cretaceous limestone; while on the right everything was plutonic or granitic, including gneiss, syenite, and metamorphous rocks of various characters. The soil of the glen was red, and the villages, built of sun-baked bricks of this colour, harmonised with the dark green of rich crops of wheat that had been irrigated by the never-failing water-power. We had now rejoined the English road, which passed along the bottom of the glen, and which was yet incomplete; several gangs of men were working at intervals, and in the scarps, where deep cuttings had been necessary, I remarked a considerable amount of ironstone.

A few miles through this interesting scenery brought us to the village of Mandria, where a strong working party was engaged in erecting a wooden bridge upon masonry piers. We now turned off to the left, over rough but richly-wooded hills, leaving the English road, which extended direct to Platraes, as our course was altered towards the large village of Phyni, situated at the foot of the Troodos mountain. There could hardly be a worse or more dangerous path over the high and precipitous hills; these were once more cretaceous, and in wet weather must be as slippery as soap. In many places the path was hardly nine inches wide, with a deep gorge beneath for at least 150 feet. At length we passed over the crest, and looked down upon Phyni, in the vine-covered dell below. As far as the eye could reach upon all directions for many miles, hill-sides, valleys, and mountains exceeding 4000 feet were entirely covered with vines; not a yard of soil was unoccupied by this important branch of cultivation. Immediately before us, on the other side of Phyni, in the dark hollow, was the base of Troodos, from which the mountain rose so steeply that it appeared impossible to ascend with mules. A narrow line was pointed out upon the thickly bush-covered sides of the mountain, and we were informed that we should reach Trooditissa monastery by that path. I thought there must be some mistake in the interpretation; however we dismounted, and preferred walking down the steep zigzags that led to Phyni, half hidden in masses of bright green foliage of various fruit-trees, now exactly at our feet.

This was a very peculiar village, as the broad flat roofs of the houses formed terraces; upon these you could at once walk from the steep hill-slope, into which the houses were inserted by scarping out a level space for a foundation. The effect was remarkable, as the house-roofs, in lines, seemed like flights of steps upon the mountain side. We halted at the first decent-looking dwelling and rested beneath the shade of an apricot-tree within a small courtyard. The people at once assembled, and the owner of the house brought us black wine and raki of his own make; the latter he was now engaged in distilling, and some pigs were revelling in the refuse that had been thrown in a heap below the window of the store. This man was proud of his wine, as it was tolerably free from the taste of tar; the jars, having been more than fifty years in constant use, had lost the objectionable flavour. We were thirsty and hot, therefore the wine was not disagreeable, and we lunched beneath the apricot.

After an hour's rest the real up-hill work commenced. We crossed a broad channel of running water beneath groves of green trees, and entered a path on the opposite side of the village; this skirted a deep and precipitous gorge, through which the river flowed from the high and dark ravine that cleft the mountain from the ssummit to the bottom. A water-mill was at work below us on the right; and always ascending along the side of the ravine, with the rushing sound of the stream below, we arrived after half a mile at the base of the apparently impossible route. Right and left, right and left, went the short and sharp zigzags, the path covered with rolling stones and loose rocks, which clattered under the feet of the tired mules and rolled down the steep inclines. The sound of the stream below became fainter, and the narrow angle of the deep cleft grew darker, as we ascended. We looked down upon the rounded tops of various trees, including the rich verdure of planes, which skirted the banks of the hidden stream, and we entered upon pines rising from an under-growth of beautiful evergreens, including the fragrant tremithia, the light green foliage of the arbutus, with its bright red bark contrasting strongly with the dark shade of the dense and bushy ilex. The mastic was there, and as we increased our altitude the Pinus laricio and Pinus maritima varied the woods by their tall spars, beneath which a perfect garden of flowers almost covered the surface of the earth; these included the white and purple cistus, dog- roses, honeysuckle, and several varieties unknown to me. Among the ornamental dwarfs were a quantity of the Sumach, which is an article of export from Cyprus for the use of the tanner and dyer.

The view became very beautiful as we ascended, until at length, after a couple of miles of the steepest zigzags, we turned a corner of the rocks and looked down the great depth at our right, below the path, upon the long white thread of a waterfall, which for some hundred feet of a severe incline, broken by occasional plunges, issues from the rocky cleft, and forms the river in the ravine below. "There is the monastery of Trooditissa!" exclaimed our guide. About 200 feet above our level, snugly nested among splendid walnut-trees in the dark angle of the mountains, were the grey and brown gables, half concealed by the rich foliage of plane-trees, walnuts, mulberry, and other varieties.

About half a mile from this point of view the mules scrambled up one of the worst portions of the route, and we arrived at a clear and cold spring issuing suddenly from the rocks through a stone spout, protected by an arch of masonry: this was received in a rude wooden trough formed from the trunk of a hollowed pine, and overflowed across the path to water some terraced gardens immediately below. A walnut and a fig-tree intermingled their branches above the arch, and formed an agreeable shade to shelter weary travellers, who might sit by the welcome spring after toiling up the rough mountain side. About eighty yards beyond, by a level path, we reached the widest-spreading walnut-tree that I have ever seen; the new foliage was soft and uninjured by the wind, producing a dense shade over an area sufficient for numerous tents. This magnificent specimen of vegetation grew upon the edge of an abrupt descent, perpendicular to a series of gardens, all terraced out to a depth of about 150 feet, to the bottom of a narrow gorge; thus one-half of the branches overhung the steep, while the other half shaded a portion of the monastery courtyard.