An adventure of sorts

Things started off with an excursion to the Troodos mountains, courtesy of the student union (the international one because, as I understand, there is a schism in the organization) anyway... we learned a lot about Cypriot punctuality.

These people suck at being on time, everything we did was at least an hour late. Sometimes their excuses weren't so much as we are hungover (much more accurate) as the more ridiculous excuse of a lack of snow on the mountain (even though our eyes could clearly see otherwise). Saturday provided the opportunity for adventure so we decided to take it.

We awoke, hung over form a night of free drinking, as provided by the former student union, and rolled to breakfast. Fashionable late and all we managed was bread and a hard boiled egg; the nescafe machine continually dispensed its usual brand of coffee powder. as we sat, Kate, forever outspoken, made her voice heard for the want of adventure. So she called Eleni and we concluded that some town about seventeen Euros away would be a suitable kickoff to our trip.
Necessities were gathered and we made our way to Platres, in the mountains, with the intention of some coffee and some casual dining; or something. What we found was the exact opposite as we stood looking at the nature trail and decided to take a jaunt. We were lead by the promise of some wort of waterfall, which might've been a huge disappointment, but when you have nothing to do nothing is a disappointment. we were confronted by a magnificent view of the valley and a quite stunning waterfall which seemed to stand about thirty meters or so from its stream. As we approached a Russian man stood stoically by and took in the mist in deep reflection.
Thank god for the girls because at this point I was thoroughly tired and in need of the ride which they asked the Russian couple for. They obliged us as far as the main road and our driver informed us that he was going to Kykkos monastery and if we would like to join him he would drive us the rest of the way.
Well, scared shitless doesn't begin to describe mountain roads far in excess of the speed limit in the back of a sub compact car. He asked if any of us minded the speed. I shook my head behind a wide grin as it didn't matter where we were going as long as we were getting away from where we were. Some thirty kilometers (and some very random cat calls to a few straggling GLS students hanging out in the Troodos square) and we arrived at the seat of one of the most holy icons in Christendom.
Kykkos monastery houses an icon with a legend larger than life. it is covered by a silver visage of the image as the face is covered by a cloth. It is said that those who view it will be blinded by its aura. We stood in the chapel and beheld thousands of years of art and mosaics and generally felt insignificant (which is our place in such history).
Not wanting to bother the Russian couple further we called our taxi driver from before and he informed us that we were a solid thirty Euros away and that he would be there in forty five minutes or so. the cab fare is always of very little consequence as it is always minuscule compared with fares back in the states.
We arrived to frustrations all Sunday afternoon, which I do not feel the need to divulge. Lets just say disgruntled bus drivers and no skiing...

and im exhausted, but included are several photos of the adventure. I did not ask the russians their names and they did not ask ours.

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