For about twenty miles we skirted this miserable coast, upon which not a
green speck relieved the eye; at length we sighted the minaret which
marked the position of Larnaca, the port or roadstead to which the mail
was bound; and in the town we distinguished three or four green trees.
We cast anchor about half a mile from the shore. Nine or ten vessels,
including several steamers, were in the roadstead, and a number of
lighters were employed in landing cargoes.
Disappointment and disgust were quickly banished by the reflection that
at this season (January) there was nothing green in England: the
thermometer in that dreary land would be below freezing-point, while on
the deck where we stood it was 64 degrees Fahr. We were quickly in a
boat steering for the landing-place.
All towns look tolerably well from the sea, especially if situated
actually upon the margin of the water. The town represented a front of
about a mile, less than five feet above the level of the sea, bordered
by a masonry quay perpendicular to the surface, from which several
wooden jetties of inferior and very recent construction served as
landing-places.
The left flank of Larnaca was bounded by a small Turkish fort,
absolutely useless against modern artillery upon the walls the British
flag was floating.
