The strip of land between the sea and the
northern base of the Carpas range was hardly three miles wide; this was
covered with well-rounded caroub-trees, whose dark green foliage gave a
rich appearance to the shore, broken by countless rocky bays and coves,
filled with the cobalt waters of the Mediterranean. This was a lovely
scene; I could not believe that I was in Cyprus--that
whitey-brown-paper-coloured, desert, smitten, God-forsaken isle! Upon
the left, about eight miles distant, lay the town and important port of
Kyrenia, with an apparently very little harbour, the houses surrounded
by gardens, and ornamented by date-palms backed by a perfect forest of
caroub-trees which extended for some miles. On the extreme summit of the
crags upon our left, overlooking Kyrenia and forming an unmistakable
landmark for all sailors, was the castle of Buffavento, cutting the blue
sky-line 3240 feet above the sea. Exactly opposite, at about sixty miles
distance, were the snow-capped mountains of Caramania, which in the
transparent atmosphere seemed to be within a day's long march. Far, far
away along the north-eastern shore, and also towards the west, all was
lovely: I could only regret that all vessels and strangers must arrive
in the unfortunate ports of the Messaria, instead of gaining such
favourable first impressions as would be induced by the lovely picture
of Cyprus from the north.
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