Road Bike Cycling in Northern Cyprus : Ride Ten - paralimni, hell, and back to iskele

After a breakfast of roast chicken legs, left over last nights pig out fest, I tidied up and locked up the flat. Outside the sky was grey and I was in two minds as to if I should ride to aya Napa or not. I decided I was only there once so I went for it. Riding through paralimni and out to Ayia Napa I was curious as to why I was even bothering to go there at all. Something in me clearly just wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about. It is about nothing.

I turned left off the main road and followed a sign to greko caves. But the road soon became a dirt track and on my skinny road tyres I wasn't going to risk a puncture or worse, more broken spokes. So I took a picture of where I think the beach was over the piles of burning rubbish between the path and the beach. I was already for moving on, but I continued down into Ayia Napa itself just to satisfy my curiosity and to be able to say I rode there. However I would rather now say I rode out of there at speed! What an absolutly hellish town that place is. Everything that is BAD about tourism is there in its full, tacky, dirty, lazy, dumbed down awefullness. Why do people want to go there and spend two weeks in hells garbage dump when this island has so many wonderful things to see?? I just don't get it.

I made it through to the harbour. Here I thought it may be possible to breathe again without catching something nasty. This once quaint little fishing port has been destroyed by tourism, total 'tack' abounds here.
There had to be at least ten huts trying to sell pirate ship trips, fishing trips, and all manner of illicet drugs probably as well. I took a picture of hell, apologised to Celeste for bringing her here and rode up the steep hill and out as quick as I could, always alert to the murderous cyclist killing pits placed in the roads called drain covers. Escape from Ayia Napa should be a blockbuster film, bit like the great escape. Oh man how the great british unwashed holiday!

I had a strong urge to shower beside the road ten miles outside of Aiya Napa when the stench of it finally disappeared. I pushed on past the nicer town of Paralimni and pointed Celeste in the direction of the green line border crossing.
The wind was strong and the sky was no longer able to keep the heavy drops of rain from falling. In the middle of the green line I found a supermarket advertizing all things English. In I went in search of, well anything edible really. After waiting in line for the belle of Newcastle to buy her supplies of chips, microwave meals, vodka and cigarettes I was told I was not allowed to buy my chocolate muffin because I was not in the british army. This was a naffi store.
This was a good thing, because it meant I was able to spend my two euros on fresh strawberries at the little old blokes (without a goat ) fruitstand right on the border control. He clearly hadn't noticed I was riding a bike as he seemed to think my request to purchase strawberries meant I also wanted to buy all his banannas, oranges, melons, lemons and sharp pointy looking dangerous looking fruits of dubious origion too.
I arrived at the border just behind a bus load of over fed, lobster coloured british tourists in Bermuda shorts, clearly they had just escaped Aiya Napa too.

I set my strawberries on my handlebars and ate them all in the time it took to process the lobsters through the border.
It was raining a bit more now and I was keen to step on the gas and get to iskele before the heavens opened for real.
Once on the Turkish side I was once again riding on good quality road surfaces. The cars are all falling apart but the roads are perfect.
I took a wrong turn at a roundabout and discovered a really old castle by welcome mistake. So I did the tourist thing and took a few pictures and moved on, feeling cleaner the more miles I put between me and Aiya Napa.
The familier streets of famagusta came and went and I rode through town as inconspicuously as possible, fearing capture and a month in the cooler back in Aiya napa.
It wasn't long before the caesur towers became visable and long beach passed me at 25mph on my right hand side.
I rolled up to the cafe here and was warmly welcomed by good friends and some cold tins of my favourite 'crappy' cherry fruit juice.
Job done.