As you enter Paphos on the left the sea opens up expansively and glistens from below where myth has it that Aphrodite sprang from the foams of the sea, a goddess of love, beauty and fertility. Lured by Aphrodite's spell, many British come to live in Paphos and they have brought their own character to the town. In return the town caters for their needs, with pubs, restaurants and English style breakfasts and lunches galore.
I make my way to the harbour. Even on this wintery day, the cafes and tavernas are still open. The sun is shadowed by a thin sheen of cloud and glows like a big electric light bulb. The sea is smooth and velvety. Boats lie moored to their anchors, bobbing happily. Another boat arrives lazily, making its way to the harbour. I look around me as I walk. An old man teaches a young boy to fish, an old woman tries to sell sea sponges to a group of tourists, a group of taxi drivers play tavli (backgammon) to kill time. A black cat (my lucky charm) sits cosily under a car. There is the smell of sea air, a light breeze with pervades everything.
I pay to go into the castle. Only the imagination can wonder at what peoples' lives were like there. The castle has served as a fortress, a prison and as a warehouse for salt by the British. Its use as a fortress is what fascinates me the most. I climb up to the top. The view is breathtaking. To the east the harbour can be seen down below, the houses and boats dotting the landscape with colour. The expanse of sea lies to the west. How amazing must it have been to see ships arriving on the horizon, to witness thunderstorms. I stand there for a while taking it all in, gathering up energy from the view before me. Aphrodite weaves her magic spells and I'm just in time for the sunset.
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