6-6-15. Larnaca, Cyprus
Knowing that my flight to Cairo was not set to depart until 7:30, I decided to visit two archaeological sites on the way to Larnaca. The first was the ancient city of Kourion, perched on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. Although a few of the excavated villas sported well-preserved mosaics, the ruins themselves were not particularly impressive. Against the backdrop of the turquoise sea, however, their white marble and bleached limestone seemed almost to glow.
Architecturally, the most impressive structure was the fifth-century basilica complex, which incorporated a well-preserved baptistery and bishop’s palace, both framed by the gleaming sea.
After walking the main site, I drove a few kilometers west to the sanctuary of Apollo Hylates. Here, again, none of the buildings were particularly well-preserved; but the rural setting – and the sea beyond – made the scattered ruins memorable.
Driving farther east through a resort district, I stopped at the little-visited seaside site of Amathus. Long one of the most important cities in Cyprus, its abandonment after the seventh-century Arab raids left it subject to stone robbers, who gradually reduced its center to shapeless rubble. The recent excavated forum was accordingly unimpressive. Although little more survived on the adjoining acropolis – once the location of an important sanctuary of Aphrodite – the long climb up the windswept slope proved to be a satisfying conclusion to my visit. I paused for a long moment on the hilltop, where the ruins of the sanctuary crouched amid tall brown grass. A stiff breeze whipped whitecaps over the sea and drove furrows through the fields, keening around fallen columns and walls. The colors of a Mediterranean summer – tan grass, olive green scrub, cobalt sky, and opalescent sea – wove their familiar tapestry around my perch, spangled by flights of swallows. I walked back down slowly, the path behind me vanishing in the blowing grass.
There was more after, of course; I had to drive halfway across Cyprus, negotiate the intricacies of car rental return, and then fly to Cairo. But in a real sense, my trip ended on the acropolis of Amathus. The rest is just highways, airports, and hotels – means and modes of passage, and stages on the road back to reality. And so, since the comforts and routines of home make for very dull reading, I leave you here. I have a flight to catch.