Aphrodite's Rock.

Today M and I decided we’d visit Aphrodite’s Rock, a short drive down the coast from Paphos. Buses ran all day, but we decided to leave it until later on to catch one. We lounged by the pool, reading; my holiday hit-list so far includes 3 Jodi Picoult books, Another Forgotten Child by Cathy Glass and The Drowning Girl by Margaret Leroy. All have been trashy but immensely enjoyable! Mine and M’s kindles will be worn out by the end of the holiday.

After a quick lunch rustled up by M, we headed out to catch the number 631 to Aphrodite’s Rock. The bus was crammed on the way there, and we sat pinned to our seats like sardines, seeing out any small draught from the windows and turning our faces towards it.

When we arrived, we had to walk through a very narrow tunnel to the beach – only a shoulder’s width wide and low enough so that M had to stoop. It opened out onto a beautiful pebbled beach with turquoise water stretching out to the horizon and wrapping around the curve of the coast to the east. Whitewater bloomed around the base of the cliffs, but the swell channelling into the bay was quite tame. There were several stacks close to shore, though to be honest I’m still not sure which one we were meant to be looking at! M and I braved a swim, though the water was much cooler than in Paphos. I'm not so happy with this photo... There were so many people it was hard

All around the beach and up the banks people had spelt out hearts with stones, framing the names of their loved ones. We headed back for the bus which seemed to take forever to get us home, and had banging techno music, along with a crying baby and several groups of Russians holding conversations at screaming pitch! When we got home, I fell asleep on the balcony and woke to M cooking dinner – spare ribs. Headache gone, we could both enjoy another evening playing cards by candlelight. We’ve fallen into a happy, easy routine here.