We looked down from the picturesque and precipitous wall of
mountains which stretched far away to the east and west; the sides were
covered with evergreens, through which the bold crags protruded in
rugged points; the dark indentures upon the steep slopes marked deep
ravines in which streams of water now rippled, while all on the south
were stony and exhausted. The strip of land between the sea and the
northern base of the Carpas range was hardly three miles wide; this was
covered with well-rounded caroub-trees, whose dark green foliage gave a
rich appearance to the shore, broken by countless rocky bays and coves,
filled with the cobalt waters of the Mediterranean. This was a lovely
scene; I could not believe that I was in Cyprus--that
whitey-brown-paper-coloured, desert, smitten, God-forsaken isle! Upon
the left, about eight miles distant, lay the town and important port of
Kyrenia, with an apparently very little harbour, the houses surrounded
by gardens, and ornamented by date-palms backed by a perfect forest of
caroub-trees which extended for some miles. On the extreme summit of the
crags upon our left, overlooking Kyrenia and forming an unmistakable
landmark for all sailors, was the castle of Buffavento, cutting the blue
sky-line 3240 feet above the sea. Exactly opposite, at about sixty miles
distance, were the snow-capped mountains of Caramania, which in the
transparent atmosphere seemed to be within a day's long march.
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