From the baths of Aphrodite, step across the small stream and follow the nature trail. Don’t be put off by the initial feeling that you’re trekking into heavy undergrowth, because that is a very short-lived experience. Soon you’re leaving the lushness of Aphrodite’s oasis behind you and entering the barren sandy hills leading towards the sea. There’s a turnstile that needs to be maneuvered around before you start the gentle climb to the highest point on this part of the coast.
This was a fascinating area, and in a very short space of time, we were patiently waiting for a chameleon to settle down and pose for a photograph. This was the first one of these creatures that I’d seen in the wild, and it obligingly came to rest on the branches of a tree and stared blankly at me as I changed lens on my camera. It was a magnificent placid looking creature, and although we saw the back ends of others as they darted away from our footsteps, this was the only one we could gaze at for any length of time.
Fig and olive trees were in abundance, and the occasional petite bright flower on seemingly dead stems emerged from the barren soil. Although we’re in the land of Greek mythology, it was not hard to imagine early Christians trekking there way across this biblical landscape in search of a more lush area to make their base (again, I was reminded of the monk’s comment to me that Cyprus has had more saints walking on its soil than any other country in the world).
The sea view from this trail was absolutely superb, unfortunately marred by the presence of a permanent trailer village on the flat coastal land. As we pulled our way, in intense heat, up the rough trail (4x4’s would risk it), I felt sure that I heard bells. Perhaps I’d overdone my imaginings of the saintly trail, but then, as I glance backwards, I saw a group of strange mountain goats ambling towards the trailers. Some were clearly semi-domesticated (hence the bells), but others seemed more footloose and fancy-free. I set off in hot pursuit – these demanded a photo call! A few in the distance were standing on their hind legs, grazing, if that’s the right description for picking at the olive trees. These were distracted enough to ignore my advances, but the others nibbling on the sparse vegetation of the sandy soil were quick to move as I advanced towards them. They were led, or controlled, by an aged Billy goat who clearly intimidated any of the others that stepped out of line or dared to eat without permission. They ambled around the trailers looking for scraps, and if I didn’t know better, I would have said that they owned this territory!
It’s not an easy walk round here, but you can do as much as you want and it’s worth the effort for the wildlife and fauna.
From journal Polis to Pahpos