Disappointment and disgust were quickly banished by the reflection that
at this season (January) there was nothing green in England: the
thermometer in that dreary land would be below freezing-point, while on
the deck where we stood it was 64 degrees Fahr. We were quickly in a
boat steering for the landing-place.
All towns look tolerably well from the sea, especially if situated
actually upon the margin of the water. The town represented a front of
about a mile, less than five feet above the level of the sea, bordered
by a masonry quay perpendicular to the surface, from which several
wooden jetties of inferior and very recent construction served as
landing-places.
The left flank of Larnaca was bounded by a small Turkish fort,
absolutely useless against modern artillery upon the walls the British
flag was floating. We landed upon the quay. This formed a street, the
sea upon one side, faced by a row of houses. As with all Turkish
possessions, decay had stamped the town: the masonry of the quay was in
many places broken down, the waves had undermined certain houses, and in
the holes thus washed out by the action of water were accumulations of
recent filth. Nevertheless, enormous improvements had taken place since
the English occupation. An engineer was already employed in repairing
the quay, and large blocks of carefully faced stone (a sedimentary
limestone rock of very recent formation) were being laid upon a bed of
concrete to form a permanent sea-wall.
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