Karagöz oyunları in Kantara Castle


Kantara Castle

Kantara Castle

As we drove west from the Karpaz Peninsula, we set our sights on visiting Kantara Castle. Of course, the Karagöz puppets (Karagöz oyunları) were over the moon about the idea of visiting a castle beginning with the letter K. They are sometimes a little simple & silly about those things.

As we meandered through the valleys and mountains dodging sheep and goatherds and not much else, most of the puppets at on the back seat window ledge watching it all fly by. Karagöz, on the other hand, daredevil that he is, strapped himself to the front bumper and screamed “Geronimo!” all the way up the mountains towards the castle.

I did not see much of the ride up to the castle because the roads were winding – full of switchbacks – that my anxiety set in tremendously. M. was much more along the lines of Karagöz, reveling in the crazy driving and wishing he was in his hunter green MG. Reminding me still, that it was my idea to sell that car as it broke down so much.

But, marital car debates aside, when I did take my hands off of my eyes the views were amazing. We only met one other car on the way down and were both able to screeched to a halt before some intricate maneuvering allowed us to pass one another.

As we reached the top of the mountain, we passed a series of lovely but clearly abandoned estates. We guessed that these estates were British, based on the modern design and opulence with which they were built. Given the high temperatures seen in Cyprus most of the year other than November December and January, when it is only in the 70s (F) we imagined that this would be the perfect summer spot. Gentle breezes and magnificent views abounded.

There is a small parking lot at the base of the castle with three or four Turkish – Cypriot gentlemen listening to old – fashioned Turkish music blasting from a car. They were extremely friendly and the rate for admission was low. Although there is not much by way of interpretation that we might see in other locations, a helpful hand out is available.

Oh – and the puppets? As soon we parked the car they flew up the mountain dashing around the rooms running up and down the stairs and oggling the views. As these puppets were born in the 13th century – visiting a castle built in the 10th century was pretty exciting for them. We didn’t break it to them that most of what we were seeing or renovations from the 15th century.

This castle is one of three across the mountain ridge that centers Northern Cyprus – these castles were built to be able to warn one another (via large bonfire) of attack across a large swath of territory. Think: Lord of the rings – style.

We’ll let the pictures do the talking – but highly recommend that you bring a picnic lunch and sit atop the castle enjoying the magnificent views of both the Mediterranean Sea and the Cypriot countryside below.

We are still waiting for Karagöz himself to come down from the mountain!

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Kantara Castle

Kantara Castle

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Posted in Puppets on the move around the world, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Oasis at Afilon: A Hotel Review by the Karagöz Puppets


After escaping both the end-of-the earth wonders and exorbitant food prices at Burhan’s Golden Beach, we made a b-line for the Oasis at Afilon, on the northern side of Dipkarpaz’s coast, facing Turkey, roughly 60 KM away. This special spot is a few KM out of Dipkarpaz itself – but retained the “at the end of the earth” feel we look for.

This tiny, eight-room hotel stands out from any we have ever seen as it is built within the ruins of Afilon. We chose one of the larger two rooms as they were high on the rocks above the tiny bay, as they had more windows and as they stood just next to the ruins.

I’ll leave the rest of the commentary to the puppets:

Mercan bey, the Arabian spice trader puppet: these people know how to cook – they have a deft hand with local spices and those from afar alike. I loved seeing the kitchen garden with blue rosemary blooms out back. It was great to see the same on the large, magnificent fish M. & M’Lady had for their evening Thanksgiving supper. Dotted as it was with Rosemary and Aleppo pepper – not to mention perfectly roasted potatoes, it’s too bad the candlelight was not conducive to a photo.

Zenne the nervous Nellie like a bowl of shaking quince jelly handmaiden puppet: if I had any complaint – and I really feel guilty even saying it because I liked this place so much – it was that they only had packaged Gül reçeli (rose jam) inşirahda of the Real Deal – but breakfast (kahvaltı) was otherwise so perfect! Roasted tomato and haloumi toasts (causing M’Lady to err against her gluten free diet), soft-boiled eggs, a variety of local olives & cheeses and a fantastic plate of orange, pear, apple & kiwi sections. Perfectly presented and of inscrutable quality!

Kenne, the puppet known as the Queen of manners, etiquette & ladylike behavior I must admit that the rooms and bathrooms were fully clean albeit simple. Although designed by men, who I would doubt to have much taste in decoration, these rooms were true to their 1950s roots in detail and spirit. The high ceilings, brass door handles and old fashioned shuttered windows were magnificent. I would only wish for a bathroom door made of something other than a plastic accordion, but this hardly matters for an old married couple even if you do want to keep some of the mystery of bodily functions private.

Celebi, the modernist puppet I was most impressed with Maşallah (yes, really his name) Erkan bey’s commitment to green practices within his establishment. It was a joy to learn of his commitment to solar power – indeed he went to move his large panel to follow the sun several times per day. What a shame that his grant from the EU to build a model solar field to provide electricity for the hotel (versus a generator only at night) was left in limbo as the layers of TRNC bureaucracy at the local and national levels stuck to one another in impenetrable red tape.

Esma, the hippie puppet is too busy meditating to the crash of waves in the center of the ruin next to our room – she had a hard time choosing which amazing mosaic tile floor to choose for her sitting session!

$50 per night with breakfast! don’t miss out on this amazing spot!
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Posted in Puppets on the move around the world, Turkish Food!, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Ali of the Karpaz Penninsula’s Golden Beach


Our first foray to Cyprus brought us 24 hours of firsts – the first time we have gotten lost as a couple, the first time eating deliciously crunchy fried haloumi cheese (yum) – and the first time in what can only be described as a colonial-style British hotel (despite the fact that the Brits have (officially) been out for decades). But it was also the first time, but not likely the last, that our hearts broke a bit for someone we met…and in this case, the heartbreak was as a result of meeting a fine and friendly young gentleman named Ali.

Now, Turkey is full of men named Ali, but this Ali – the lone man on the farthest tip of the Karpaz peninsula in off-season November – is not a Turk. This 24-year-old Ali, he is from Islamabad, Pakistan. Fluent in Urdu and English as well as Turkish, he has been here at Burhan’s Golden beach for four years – and plans to stay one more year.

In exchange for a lump sum seasonal fee as well as room (very basic) and board, he works 24 hours a day if need be – of course, he sends his income home to his family in Islamabad. His parents are, he explained, too old and sick to work, and he gave up his studies at Near East University to come here so that his sisters and brother could have a chance at making it through college. He is likely the eldest son. Hacivad bey the learned Sufi elder puppet nods his silent agreement that this indeed must be so.

Clearly starved for human interaction, his bright smile and open friendly face took a bit of time to open – it’s been a while since he saw people. His closest friend, a Turkish man who watches the other simple hotel on the beach about 1/4 mile away, is visiting his family on the mainland. Kind and attentive to a fault, Ali apologized that the cook was off and that all he could offer was fried food. We placed our bets on köfte (a spiced meat patty) and French fries and he seemed relieved. He did manage to find the makings of a tomato and cabbage salad (delicious), more fried haloumi cheese, cacık (cucumber-yoğurt) and olives. Even Kenne, queen of manners and all things proper, was pretty impressed.

I almost asked M. whether we should ask Ali to join us – but before I could eke out the words, Mercan Bey the Arabian spice trader puppet quietly stepped forth onto the plasticated tablecloth in his mustard yellow robe and pronounced “M’lady, I have, as you know, travelled far and wide in these parts. I can tell you with an ancient certitude that this gentleman will never sit down with you both, it just is not done. Don’t put him in that position, please, and please take no offense at my bold words.” I immediately saw his logic and blushed. My Americanisms are hard to shake at times.

So there Ali sits, ending his day with a few hours of Turkish television after digging new ditches for the spring rains and scrubbing the kitchen back into a fierce shine. It is a typical story of migrant labor, nothing new or special about it – although I would like to think that all individuals are special. At least he isn’t in the migrant labor horror camp that is found in places such as Abu Dhabi or Dubai – Cyprus alone on a beach may be bad, but must beat mass exploitation, I surmised.

The next morning, Ali served up a perfect Turk kahvaltı (breakfast) and we spoke a bit more. “Will you return to college when you go home next year?” I asked, hopefully. “No, college, it is too late for me – my life is work now, I must support my family now.” Nodding our heads in understanding, I pressed him just a bit further (Kenne says: “like a nosy auntie, shame!”). “Do you think you will have a family of your own?” I queried. “Oh yes. I have a fiancé, she is a dentist in Pakistan – her father and brother live in the U.S. to support the family, but I will remain in Islamabad…she’s my cousin, I guess people look badly on that, marrying your cousin, but we think it works well, to keep the family bond strong – I think the Turkish people don’t do that, though.”

Moving to safer conversational territory, M. asked how on earth he avoided the Emirates or Saudi Arabia, for example, for work – how did he end up at a hippie beach camp on the far eastern tip of Cyprus? “I didn’t go through a broker – my friends were here – they said it is a good country that is not bad to live in and that I could work in restaurants or a chips factory – and that’s what I did. When the restaurant in Girne/Kyrenia closed, the owner there sent me to his friend, Burhan, who runs this place. And I’ve been here ever since. I make a lump sum for 7 months ($5,250 U.S. plus $500 in tips) and then work elsewhere on the island for 5 months – I’m leaving on Monday for my winter job.” Hopping up to clear our plates, he left us with a gracious but sad-eyed “enjoy your day” and bustled off to the kitchen, leaving us with much to ponder. “He has a job, Liz,” M. reminded me, “it’s exploitation but it could be much worse.”

Trite as it may sound, meeting Ali and spending some time with him was bittersweet and in the end made us actively value our freedom and privilege more acutely. Sitting here in our comfy warm bed by the sea at 7 pm, we are bathed in fluorescent light that is but a pinprick in the pitch dark that descended 2 hours ago. The Mediterranean wind blows a fierce swath through the pines and juniper trees. The waves are crashing 200 meters from our cabin. It is a spotless, clean and sparse place – our kind of place way out in the middle of nowhere. But it is tinged with a bit of melancholy for me. And this is just what I love about travel, days like today help me to, as my students say, “keep it real.”

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Posted in Puppets on the move around the world, Turkish Food!, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments