Today was Evelyn’s birthday, and it turned out to be quite eventful (but remember that we never ask a woman how old she is…).  As we were driving from the village of Vouni to Paphos in Cyprus this morning, we saw some goats in a field, and decided to stop to photograph them.  Every time we approached, they would run away, so we were not having much luck.

An elderly man then drove up to Evelyn in his beat-up pickup truck.  Evelyn feared that he was going to chase her out of his fields for trespassing, but instead the man said in broken English  “get in and I drive you (to the goats).”  Evelyn was then able to capture the goat images above.  After photographing for awhile, the man offered her to come to his home and join them for some Turkish coffee, picking me up along the way.

We then spent the next two hours sitting in the home of George and Nicoletta Mouzourou (center image). George went to University of Romania, where he met Nicoletta, and they were married in 1970, with one ceremony in Romania for her family, and a second in Cyprus for his family.  The dashing young man in the lower right photo is George shortly after they were married.

They settled in a village in the Karpaz Peninsula, in the northeast part of Cyprus.  After graduating from the university, he was assigned there by the government as a veterinarian and she as a doctor. In addition to their professional duties, they raised sheep. When the Turks invaded the island in 1974, the couple was given one month to leave and go to the South, with all other Greek Cypriots.  When I asked George where his parents were born, he replied Cyprus.  Grandparents? Cyprus.  Great-grandparents? Cyprus. Four generations in Cyprus, yet he still identifies himself as a Greek Cypriot, as does the Turkish government.

When they arrived in the South in 1974, they were refugees. One day they were traveling in the countryside and saw a sick sheep.  Being a veterinarian by training, he went to care for the animal.  A Greek soldier saw what he did, and told him “this is your new home,” giving them the house and land that had been vacated by a Turkish Cypriot that had similarly been forced to relocate.  That is the house they still live in now, and where we met and talked with them.  Nicoletta is  still actively working as the village doctor. She learned her English treating tourists who were visiting the island that needed medical help over the last four decades.  (English is the lingua franca that is common to most visitors from both Europe and Asia.)

George repeated over and over in the two hour conversation that “We like everyone. Germans, Russians, Americans, Turkish. They are all our friends. It is only the governments that cause trouble.  They do not care for the people. They only want our land.” George told us that the original Turkish Cypriot owner of their current home visits about once a month for a weekend.  When that person comes, George and Nicoletta vacate the home, so the original owner can spend time in the home where his father was born and died.

George also had some interesting comments on modern life. At one point, he lamented “Things are too complicated now.  In the old days, two men would stroke their mustache (he demonstrated by stroking his), then shake hands.  That was all that was needed for an agreement. Now they want you to sign all these papers. No more trust between two men.”  I smiled and asked how women made agreements, to which George responded very seriously “Women could not make binding agreements, since they had no mustache.”  I still don’t know if he was pulling my leg with that comment… ☺

I could go on for pages just relating their life story and our conversation, but we need to move on.  George is now 77, and fears he will never see “his home” in the North again, where both his father and grandfather were born.

Later we  roamed Paphos on a Segway tour, visiting some of the ruins, the harbor, the lighthouse, and learning the history of the area.  Callum was our guide, and told us many little known factoids, such as real meaning of the thumbs up and thumbs down in the gladiator ring. He claimed that the movies have it backward. In Roman times, a thumb-up gesture meant to “run him through with your sword” while a thumb-down indicated “drop your sword and let him live” — the opposite of what Hollywood shows.  (With later research, I find his account of thumbs-down seems accurate, but the “let him live” gesture may have actually been a fist, with the thumb hidden?)

As we paused in front of Paphos Castle, he told us that at one point, it had been used for storage of salt. We learned that salt was considered more valuable than gold, and that soldiers often received part of their pay in salt (salarius), which became the basis for the term “salary” in current English.

When we asked him where we could best see the sunset, he told us to walk about a kilometer down a path behind the castle to an overlook on the beach.

The sky was bland with no clouds, but we decided to head out to the point anyway.  Less than an hour before sunset, a few clouds started forming on the horizon, and a little color began to develop.  We feared that the only foreground available was a set of three concrete blocks of unknown origin (top right).

Then, a little before sunset, a romantic young couple came and sat down right in front of me and took a selfie.  Great foreground! (middle left)  They then got up to leave, and I called to them to sit back down, which they did. ☺ We talked for the next hour or so as the sky developed more color, and they posed for more photos (middle right).  Abel and Hiwat are IT professionals on vacation from London, who helped make the evening and the photographs more interesting.

After the sun set, we walked back towards town.  As we passed the small Paphos Castle at the entry to the  harbor, there was another photo op of a romantic couple in silhouette (lower left).

As the full moon rose (lower right — yes, it was shot on that same night), we went to Gabor, a fabulous French restaurant in town, where they treated Evelyn to a special dessert, complete with painted plate (upper left) and song. When we returned to our room, a bottle of French champagne was waiting, compliments of George, the owner of the hotel where we were staying.

Overall, a memorable way to spend “another turn around the sun.”

Addendum: Above photos were sent to us a week later by Callum, the guide from the Segway tour.