"I think it's fairly safe to say that the museum doesn't do too well."
Ah, Cyprus...The land of packaged holidays and sunburned monkeys wearing t-shirts which say "You don't know me, you just wish you did", "Bothering you shouldn't feel this good, but it does", and "Hard Fuck Cafe". A country that in its time has been occupied by the Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, Romans, Crusaders, Venetians, Ottomans, British, and now...The Scrivers.
Yes, sunny Ayia Napa is where my sister tied the knot with her Blanchardstown fionse (despite her years of dreaming she would marry Michael J. Fox). And, double-whammy, after 2 and a half years I was reunited with my sister, brother, mum, dad (I heard devastating news that he is planning to grow a pony tail), aunts, uncles, cousins, a grandmother, and many miscellaneous. Absolutely fantastic and I have to admit I shed a few tears.
I also reunited with Sir Aaron who was good enough to come over for the wedding. More tears were nearly shed as I'd forgotten how Aaron operates - when he said he would arrive in Larnaca on the 4th of July I was silly enough to not realise that this meant he would arrive on the 7th at 2 o'clock in the morning. I've spent far too long away from him and his ways and was punished with a 3 day wait in Larnaca. My main impression of that place is that it was 'under construction'. The airport had a sign which said 'Due For Completion In January 2006' which is worrying.
Eventually I did meet up with Aaron and we headed up to Ayia Napa where we treated ourselves to a 4 star hotel. This country is certainly not made for backpackers. No hostels, and the hotels hit you up at every opportunity: 7 euro per day to use the hotel fridge. Even the budget places are a rip-off. Transport isn't great, and it seemed near impossible to do anything outside of a package. Cyprus is just damn confusing too - when the place names are translated from Greek they are written in one of many different ways, making it even more difficult to figure out where you are and where you're going. This place is totally inappropriate, but I guess it's good to take a break from backpacking.
In Ayia/Agia Napa, all the festivities begun and all the reunions occured. Initially it was out for dinner and drinks every night to welcome the new family members that had arrived that day, and then of course it moved on to the main event.
Fliss and Ray first got legally married in the Town Hall. A low-key affair, but absolutely fantastic. It was very surreal to see my sister getting married and it made me giddy and a bit upset; to think she's growns up.
The next day we had the Catholic Church ceremony. Of course the God stuff was a tad farcical, but the service was beautiful. To be sat in between my mum and my bro and to see my sister walking down the aisle was truly one of the greatest moments of my life. She looked absolutely gorgeous. And I'd never seen her so happy. Fantastic. And of course her happiness, and everyone elses, continued through the night as we had the idyllic garden photo sessions, a spectacular beachside reception, and then got fucking wasted. A truly perfect day.
The young'uns did a good job of a late night session. It finished up with just me, Aaron, and the best man. We went on a bit of a crawl until 7 in the morning. It turned ugly in one bar when the staff literally started beating me with a stick up the arse trying to 'shoo' me out the place. No reason. But a sign to call it a night. Some of the Cypriots seem like right cocks and Ayia Napa is a bit of a hole all about fleecing tourists.
So now it's over and done with and my sister is no longer a Scriver, but a married woman. I'm tempted to list some of the embarassing moments through her life which are how I remember her as a kid. But I guess that spaz of a sister is gone and now it's time to get used to this new grown up sister who has her own family. Bittersweet.
And as for me, I hadn't really made any solid plans for after this point as I couldn't imagine how I'd feel; whether I'd want to just fly home or what. So I had to ask myself, do I want to carry on backpacking? Do I want to keep traveling the world complaining about all these ignorant bastards being totally unnecessarily rude and beating me with sticks? Do I want to keep meeting randoms in bizarre places and seeing surreal sights? And do I want to blow the rest of my Government Savings Scheme money on uncomfortable journeys and bullshit accommodation?
I do.
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