BellapaisThe village of Bellapais (other spellings are available) is the pearl of North Cyprus. Of all the places we were to visit this year this was the one we expected to have changed the most. Indeed we did wonder whether returning there 15 years on would spoil our memories of this lovely place. As it turned out my unfortunate accident put paid to all thoughts of going there.
Bellapais stands on a steep hillside some four miles away from Kyrenia with views over the city.
ViewBefore going to Bellapais it is recommended, almost compulsory, that you read Lawrence Durrell's book about his time there in the early 1950s as the British Empire was falling apart and Cyprus was going with it (independence was achieved in 1960). Lawrence had a house in Bellapais called, like the book, Bitter Lemons. Durrell introduces us to a famous proverb that goes something like this: The laziest people in the Mediterranean live on the island of Cyprus. And the laziest people in Cyprus live in the village of Bellapais. And the laziest people in Bellapais waste away their time under the Tree of Idleness. The tree is therefore a prime target for tourists. Not that there were any tourists there other than us. In Bellapais, like other places we went in 2002, holiday-makers were conspicuous by their absence. Our first target, however, was not the tree but the splendid if ruined Augustine monastery Abbaye de la Belle Paix (beautiful peace). We walked in beautiful peace around the monastery by ourselves. Until, that is, a Turkish Army bus pulled up outside and a troop of national servicemen spilled out. The young men trudged morosely round the Abbey clearly on a 'cultural' day out and not enjoying it all. We left them there and went to look for the Tree of Idleness.Abbaye de la Belle Paix
The monastery and the square that stands outside it occupy just about the only flat land in the village.
Opposite the monastery was a bar-restaurant built around a tree which grew through through the ground floor roof and into the floor above. We were assured that this was indeed the Tree of Idleness. We hadn't seen a more likely candidate and, anyway, a comfortable seat and cold Efes was an attractive offer whatever. So we sat and idled looking out at the monastery. As ever - we were the only customers. [I am told that today there are two bars, each with their own tree, which they equally insist is the authentic one].
Bar Under Tree of IdlenessEventually we roused ourselves and set out to explore the upper village {which back then was almost all that there was except for the houses lining the road from the plain running into the square}. The roads were narrow and extremely steep. Eventually we came to Bitter Lemons - Durrell's big ugly lump of a house.
Narrow StreetBitter LemonsDisappointed with his house we intrigued by a notice pointing to "Gardens of Irene" even further up the hill. We carried on up there. There was a small sign on a garden gate. We peeped inside and saw it was indeed a little garden where they served drinks and snacks. We settled down, sole customers, with a couple of beers. We learned that the place belonged to a British women, Dierdre, who had owned the house, and been living there, when the Turkish Army arrived in 1974 and had stayed on. After a while a chap in a suit peered into the garden and then disappeared. A minute later he returned with a man and a woman equally formally dressed. We were to learn that they were the Romanian Ambassador to (southern) Cyprus, is wife and an equerry. They had come north for a day on a sight-seeing tour.
In TRNC in 2002 such things as having a drink with an Ambassador seemed quite normal. It was a quaint, charming and surprising country.