University of Nicosia (Cyprus)

Yesterday a holiday was declared in Jordan to ensure compliance with the first computerized national census. Classes were cancelled and museums were closed. We are using these few days for Terry to lecture at the University of Nicosia in the island country of Cyprus (south of Turkey, west of Syria). Our flight was less than an hour to the closest point in Europe to the Middle East: Larnaca, Cyprus. Here euros are currency and, since Cyprus had been a British colony, driving is on the left. Last year's experience in England was enough to persuade me my driving-on-the-left days are over. I hired a driver for the ride to Nicosia, the capital. The ride across the island reminded me of the terrain near our California home, a patchwork of green farms and brown mountains. The bed and breakfast (B&B) is located in Old Town (a protected World Heritage UNESCO site) and I had a moment of concern (and a twinge of panic) after our driver left us at the hotel - except it was a cafe. Confusion written on my face, a waiter beckoned us in to an unmarked door (in the cafe) leading to the B&B. Utterly unique. Max, a charming young Brit, is as unique as his top-ranked B&B ("The Sandstone") he owns and runs with his Cypriot wife. We immediately presented Max with challenges: First, our phone doesn't work outside Jordan and in my brilliance I left my coat on the plane. He called Royal Jordanian and arranged for it to be sent to Nicosia. Next, Terry teaches tomorrow at the University of Nicosia and needed to contact her hosts. Max again obliged. Finally, I wanted to eat at Trip Advisor's top restaurant and Max came through again, providing directions and suggestions.

Then we were off. We ordered "shared grill" and just about any animal with 2-4 legs made an appearance on the platter brought to us with grilled vegetables (eggplant, peppers, and more), and Greek-style grilled potatoes. I swear the platter was more like a trough. Our waiter took a shine to us and brought a complimentary dessert (a translucent white jelly-like ball of sweet milk covered by a rose water-cherry sauce). Exotic and delicious, it was one of our favorite restaurant meals and we needed to walk it off. Our leisurely walk on a perfect sunny day through the pedestrian-only streets of Old Town ended with us crossing a border! Nicosia is the only remaining divided city in Europe. The dominant population here is Greek with a significant Turkish minority. Talk about a fault line of cultures. In 1974 Turkey invaded to protect the local ethnic Turks after a coup led by Greek hardliners displaced Cypriot President Archbishop Makarios. Eventually the United Nations brokered a ceasefire. Now the demarcation (called the "Green Line") runs through the center of the city so we started our walk in Greek Nicosia and ended in Turkish Nicosia. Between the two is no man's land (called "derelict zone") filled with bullet-pocked abandoned buildings. This buffer between the two sectors is marked by barbed wire, sandbags, and (incongruously) a line of potted plants down the middle of the street to guide pedestrian traffic (into Turkish Cyprus on the right, return to Greek Cyprus on the left). Terry wanted photos of the pedestrian border, with passport controls for pedestrians, but changed her mind after I pointed to signs threatening would-be photographers with a night in jail. Access between sides had been severely limited but since tension eased locals (and tourists like us) are now able to walk across the border. We had been warned to ask Turkish Cypriot passport officials not to stamp our passports or we wouldn't be allowed to return to the Greek side. The passport officials readily agreed. It was strange to walk past the once grand architecture of crumbling buildings in the buffer zone, riddled with bullets, abandoned, and frozen in time. We walked through the Turkish side's narrow winding alleys to the Buyuk Han and the Selimiye mosque, then returned to the border and crossed back into Greek Cyprus. A long but interesting day drew to a close.