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Saturday, September 11, 2004

Silent Ships

I walk along the Old Port of Kyrenia. Summer is at a close. The hustle and bustle of tourists is slowing down. The "one night stand" relationship Cyprus has with its tourists is ending for another season. The "fuck 'em and leave 'em" mentality is clear to see, though whether it is on the side of tourists or the natives is not so clear.

Multi-coloured lights in a shambolic fashion weave in and out of the buildings that line the Old Port, leaving an outline for lazy yachts dotting the horizon to follow back in. People over here like to decorate the outside of the buildings with small lights as though they were Christmas trees.

I turn to look out to sea. The wind chops and chips away at the dark blue, making foam and spray. Suddenly, I wish I could swtich off all remaining audio of a dying tourist season and just watch the silent ships at play on a very distant horizon.

For those willing to see it, Cyprus is very beautiful.

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