NEW YORK—For the first 17 years of my life, my panorama of Cyprus was the inside of my relatives’ homes. We would arrive “apo Ameriki” and immediately begin a whirl of lunches and dinners with different relatives, and there’s a “welcome” round of invitations as well as a “farewell” one.

To an extent this is still the case — this visit, my mom drew up a calendar and listed each day’s invitations (and, afterward, what we ate, and then she and I transcribed the recipes we’d requested for the various dishes because we both love cooking) even though much of the socializing was in restaurants, as our relatives lose interest in spending days in the kitchen and hours washing up.

Now that I’m back in the U.S. I find myself wishing I’d brought home more than photos and recipes. My relatives are such charming, smart, interesting people, and trying to recreate dishes we ate at shared meals just makes me wish they were with me more often.

Besides the food, one other thing in Cyprus is inevitable: political discussions. In Cyprus politics isn’t just background, it’s life.

The Cyprus problem, as it’s called, is that since 1974 the island has been divided between the predominantly Greek-Cypriot Republic and the Turkish and Turkish-Cypriot north after Turkish troops invaded in response to a Greek-Cypriot coup (the Museum of the National Struggle in Nicosia explains some of this in greater detail, but makes no claim to objectivity). The Green Line that marks the partition is still patrolled by United Nations troops.

Since then, diplomacy has failed to truly resolve the situation, and just about every time I visit Cyprus there’s another round of talks between the Greek-Cypriot and Turkish-Cypriot leaders. I don’t notice tension between the two sides in everyday life, but talks always get people emotional and this time was no exception.

Just before the Republic of Cyprus joined the European Union in 2003 the Green Line was made a porous border, where at certain checkpoints you can enter the north. A passport is required, and for this reason many of my relatives refuse to visit — they say they shouldn’t have to show a passport to cross a false border (Turkey’s is the only government to recognize the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus) — but I’ve gone to my dad’s village on a previous trip to Cyprus and found the north sort of like a trip back in time. It was a fascinating look at how the two sides live, and interesting to see where I could have grown up.

But politics is only part of life in Cyprus, where there are beaches to lay on, food to enjoy, art to examine, shopping and nightlife to sample, and strong coffee to power us through all of it. It’s a small country with a big appetite to enjoy life.

Speaking of coffee, when my relative read our fortunes (see photo), she predicted for my mom “a social gathering at a table, which will be a very pleasant and joyous event.” Which is just like every visit to Cyprus, for us — followed that’s how long it takes to fit into my clothes again because, unlike New Yorkers, Cypriots don’t walk. We drive even the shortest distances, and would maneuver our cars through the supermarket aisles like a giant drive-thru if we could.

And then, peering into my mom’s coffee cup, she directed my dad to bring us back every year.

About the author: Alex Christodoulides is one of those push-me-pull-you creatures known as a dual citizen. When not at home in New York City (where she is a freelance writer) or in Cyprus (where she is a freeloader taking advantage of her relatives’ hospitality), she is probably dreaming of a trip to someplace where vaccinations are required and Fodor’s fears to tread.

The post Cyprus Journal: Home again appeared first on EuroCheapo's Budget Travel Blog.

Sure, the language spoken in Cyprus is Greek, but the accent is distinctive and so is the food. For one thing, Cyprus recently made its mark in the Guinness Book of World Records with a 41-meter sausage, dedicated in a big ceremony complete with traditional costumes in a town up in the Troodos Mountains.

Adventures in Cypriot Cuisine

The easiest way to get a handle on Cypriot cuisine – and a way to kill several hours trying to put away what looks like not much food – is to order meze, a selection of anywhere from a dozen to 20 hot and cold traditional dishes that most sit-down restaurants offer with little to no variety in the lineup.

First will be the dips, served with pita bread: among them tahini, made from ground sesame seeds and lemon juice, and taramosalata, made from fish roe and thickened with either a lemon-potato mixture or mayonnaise. Grilled halloumi cheese is always on the list somewhere, squeaking as you chew. There will also be meat dishes, leaning heavily on pork. Souvlaki will be among them, but so will hiromeri, a type of cured ham; loukanika, a pork sausage that is often grilled; and lountza, another ham-ish offering. For the pescatarians, there is fish meze, but vegetarians may have a hard time finding an acceptable version of the full menu.

Vegetarians will find that souvlaki joints don’t need to be off limits, since most offer grilled halloumi in place of the meat. Cypriots also eat a lot of veggies and legumes, and many restaurants offer a bean or lentil dish of the day.

Any serious restaurant in Cyprus will let you pick your fish when ordering.

A Cheapo-friendly pick in Nicosia

An inexpensive local favorite in Nicosia for vegetarian and carnivore-friendly homestyle cooking is Mattheos Restaurant, tucked unobtrusively in a corner of Plateia 28 Octobriou alongside the tiny Stavros tou Missirikou Church with its easy-to-spot minaret.

Coffee and dessert

To wake up after a big meal, there’s always coffee. There is not much love lost between Cyprus and Turkey, so locals call the brew Greek coffee or just order it by their preferred sweetness – glyko (sweet), metrio (one sugar) or sketo (black). For those who prefer their caffeine with milk, Italian-style coffee is very popular here, as is Nescafe, which is served hot, chilled or as a frothy iced frappe.

Most of Cyprus’ offerings to the sweet tooth will be familiar, but there are a few things that are typical to the island. Soujouko looks like a length of tan garden hose, but it’s made from dipping strings of almonds into thickened grape juice. Loukoumades are fried dough blobs served hot out of the oil and drizzled with honey, and are usually sold at small stands starting in the late afternoon, or at festivals. Shamishi is the same fried dough filled with a sort of cream made with semolina and flavored with mastic, which has a flavor slightly reminiscent of rosewater.

As you might expect in a hot climate, Cyprus produces its own ice cream. Three big companies, Papafilippou, Erakles and Pahit-Ice, have stores all over the country and a presence in the freezer cases at supermarkets.

Tomorrow: Heading to church

About the author: Alex Christodoulides is one of those push-me-pull-you creatures known as a dual citizen. When not at home in New York City (where she is a freelance writer) or in Cyprus (where she is a freeloader taking advantage of her relatives’ hospitality), she is probably dreaming of a trip to someplace where vaccinations are required and Fodor’s fears to tread.

The post Cyprus Journal: Adventures in eating appeared first on EuroCheapo's Budget Travel Blog.

Cyprus is on a modernizing rampage, wrestling on one side with its fairly recent history of colonial domination by the British, and on another side with its newly acquired European Union membership, in its quest to keep its identity. Souvlaki and meze (a selection of traditional dishes) are still the preferred eats, but alongside the longstanding British pubs advertising televised football matches are slick, shiny new cafes that charge patrons steep prices to be seen sipping Nescafe.

Just landed in Cyprus

As a half-native, I seem to be on a five-year cycle for visits to Cyprus, so each time I arrive something new in the landscape startles me.

One time I found a very updated airport instead of the one-story box (sans air conditioning or duty free, both of which are now present) that I remembered from my youth. Another time it was the arrival of fast food chains alongside the souvlaki joints, with the delivery scooters of the British Goody’s, McDonald’s and Burger King zipping through the traffic. Last time it was the enormous Starbucks at a major intersection in the capital city, Nicosia, which has fierce competition from more than a dozen cafes elsewhere in town. This time it’s the mall – the first enclosed North American-style shopping palace in the capital – right next to an IKEA store.

As one of the newest European Union members, Cyprus switched in 2008 to the euro from its old currency, the pound, which makes the monetary aspect of traveling here seamless. Most Cypriots speak at least a little English (along with the pubs and driving on the left, it’s another remnant of British colonialism here), and likely at least one other language, which should help travelers struggling to read signs in Greek.

Cyprus off-season

Skip the summertime crush, when temperatures pass 100º Fahrenheit and the beaches fill with hordes of northern Europeans on all-inclusive tours. Coming in the off-season between, say, mid-September and May when the hotel prices drop is one way to make a Cyprus visit Cheapo-friendly. Either end of this window will still offer plenty of warm-but-not-sweltering days in which you can hit the beach and have more of it to yourself.

The most popular beach areas are near Paphos, Limassol, Ayia Napa and Protaras/Paralimni. For an idea of costs, the Cyprus Tourism Organization lists hotel prices island-wide and contact info on their website, www.visitcyprus.com.

My trip to Cyprus

My mission this visit, however, has been to skip the beach, check out some of the Nicosia churches I’ve managed to miss during previous trips, see family, and have my coffee grounds read (which some relatives dutifully inform me is a dated parlor game for old ladies).

On these counts, two weeks into my visit, I am somewhat heavier thanks to my relatives. I’ve seen roughly a church a week, because their opening hours coincide with family lunches. And my great aunt tells me my coffee grounds show I will be taking a long journey. Probably right back to New York, whence I came.

Tomorrow: Dining in Cyprus.