Day 11
Day 11 Saturday 24th November Besparmak above Xarkeia (Karagas) to Abandoned Mine
The rain continues overnight but by sunrise it turns into a misty, cloudy morning. Rain is in the air, however, which makes us downbeat. We don full rain gear and set out.
Our drive back to our starting point is long and so we start out late at 9:45am. We will change base tonight as we move further away from the Kyrenia area.
Damp and mist envelopes our trek through the deep woods. Given all the rain, the path is not so bad, waterlogged in places but passable. While walking through the forest we come across some men gathering and chopping wood near their lodge which ironically is powered by mobile solar panels. It has not rained yet but the skies still threaten and our walk is getting sweaty under all the layers of rain gear we are wearing.
The walk itself is pretty straight forward with little undulation in the terrain and so we make good progress. Given that we are in thick woods there is little to see, especially in the mist.
The path comes to a junction. Straight ahead the Besparmak main trail continues. To our left a branch leads down to the remains of the Antiphonitis church and monastery, nestled into the fold of the hills that make their way down to the coast and the village of Ayios Amvrosios (Esentepe) whose villagers cared for and attended services at the monastery before 1974.
This church is a major landmark for me. It has an extraordinary history. The church dates back to the 7th century, built in the Byzantine style. Under the Catholic Lusignan rulers it was added to in the 14th and 15th century and shows gothic signs, including a cloister to one side. However, it is most famous for the frescoes which once covered the walls and ceiling of the church depicting saints and events from the bible. Sadly barely a few remain inside what is now a ruin of a church. The lost frescoes were removed by thieves after the island was partitioned and the Greek community of Ayios Amvrosios fled south.
Many of these frescoes were hacked out of the walls and disappeared in the late 70s. Some reappeared in the late 90s when criminal art dealers were identified dealing in frescoes looted from Orthodox churches in the north. Some of the frescoes recovered in this way included a number from Antiphonitis. These now sit in museums in the south and abroad.
I have some close friends from Ayios Amvrosios who, some years ago when they learnt I was going to be in the area, asked me to visit the church on their behalf and report back. I did so, taking the 4 mile road up from the village to the hidden-away monastery. When I arrived the monastery and church was open and a large tourist bus was parked outside. A large group of German tourists were sitting around tables in the grounds of the monastery being served lunch.
The keykeeper to the church was there as a result so I asked to see the inside of the church, explaining I was an English tourist. He took me in and began to give his version of the church and how it got into its current condition. Knowing the history and significance of the church, that condition was heart breaking. The inside was empty apart from the pigeons nestling in the remains of the interior. Most of the walls were bare and rough. A few faded frescoes remained, some badly damaged. Others clearly had signs of attempts to hack them out of the plaster. And others had graffiti written on them. Some of this graffiti was in Turkish and some in Greek. The keykeeper went out of his way to point out the Greek graffiti as evidence that the vandalisation of the church could not be credited to any one group in particular.
I knew otherwise having heard the church and its grounds described to me by those who had practised their religion there prior to 1974. The keykeeper made no mention of the stolen frescoes that had reappeared, but proudly spoke of the great efforts made to save the monastery, even though it was clearly a ruin and no re-building work was evident. Clearly a sanitised version of the story of this once wonderful church was being sold to the tourists who were bussed there and out of which the locals were making money. I made my own personal contribution to the keykeeper’s benevolent fund by paying the 5 euros fee he charged me for entry into the church.
This experience disturbed me at the time. I did not want a repeat so ignore the invitation to take the spur path to the monastery.
As we move forward the occasional glimpse of the valley below comes into view. Eventually we break out of the woods to be greeted by views of 2 coastlines. To our left and nearby we can see the northern coastline of the island. To our right in the far distance, across broad flat lands dotted with the occasional village, we make out the sweeping coastline of Famagusta Bay which forms the eastern edge of the island. This was my ‘hood. Somewhere down there, near the coastline, is my father’s village where he was born and grew up. And just beyond it is my mother’s. They are too far away to make them out clearly but I try to plot their location by figuring out which villages are in the plain below us that we can see.
We are now effectively walking along the top of the Karpass range whose peaks have come down steadily to meet the trail. We are spoilt by wonderful views.
With the change in topography comes a change in weather. The sun begins to break through the clouds creating shafts of light that caress pockets of land below us. Our mood improves accordingly and we remove our heavy wet gear and enjoy the occasional rays of sun that make their way onto the Karpass ridge.
Our day comes to an end by a small abandoned mine. Here the ridge sweeps steeply uphill but we are spared this as the trail crosses a road which presumably once serviced the mine. Tugberk has arranged for a friend to pick us up here and take us to our new base in the valley below. Our walk ends at 14:50pm with the whole team in a far better mood than in the morning. Not only because the weather and scenery have improved but, with 2 coastlines in view, we are moving into the panhandle of the island. Our final destination suddenly feels within reach – we might just do this challenge!
Our accommodation is in the village of Komi Kepir (Buyukkonu), tucked in just at the foot of the Karpass range. It is a family owned guest house called Asut Guest House comprising a number of modern, bungalow style rooms. The owner’s family provide security from their lookout home across the road. I am surprised at the quality as I cannot believe that Komi Kepir is on the tourist route but it seems I underestimated the village’s attractions.
To reflect our lifted spirits and given that it is a Saturday in November, we challenge Tugberk to find us a bar where we can watch some football back in the UK. In the rural, sparsely populated Karpass peninsula this is a tough ask. But Tugberk is omnipotent. We jump into his car and drive down to the coast and head towards Famagusta. Bogaz, on the coast, serves tourists and expats and here we find what we are looking for. Beer and football – perfect.
Once back in Komi Kepir we pass the largest house in the village which now doubles as the community centre and a garage. It used to be the family home of a good friend of mine, where he was born and grew up. I take a few photos and send them to him. He is quite emotional.
The village is very quiet unsurprisingly. However, there is one restaurant open which is the extension of a family home. We are the only guests and it has opened just for us – another example of Tugberk’s influence. The food is from the family kitchen served by mum and her young daughter, Tanem, no more than 12 years old. After dinner, over a Turkish coffee, Tanem gets her violin out and performs for us.
Things are looking up.
Day 11 stats: Distance 12.5 miles (20.1 Km), total miles 141.0 (226.9 Km)