This little village in the Nicosia district (that has nothing to do with Lasagna from the food cathegory, sadly) was a lovely little gem on the way back. Lately I realized I prefer more and more old, empty, abandon places instead of crowded, busy streets. I was never a huge fan, but this new obsession has found its home in the core of my being and I have a feeling it’s gonna shape a lot of my future travels. But enough about me, let’s focus on these lovely square meters of Lazania.
First thing you see is the greek flag, of course. And bunch of old houses basically built into the mountain. All this thanks to the Holy convent of Macheras and few monks that suggested putting Machaira tribes into villages around the Machairas monastery. Long story short + a bloody fun fact – only after 13 monks died did this place got a name of Lazania. Not so perfect yummy place after all, hey?
The magic of another level of silence, the feeling of a god forsaken place where only us three survived the apocalypse. Pretty badass feeling and also creepy when you start overthinking it. As it was a pretty random day it got even randomer. I was busy taking photos of huge wine pots through a broken window so when I caught up with J. & G. I saw a granny throwing us keys from the balcony. What? So I guess we just got invited to come inside by one of the rare people that actually live there. Probably like 3 all together. So I awkwardly sat at the table, nodded, smiled and took photos while not understanding what are they talking about. But especially this fact added value to the magical moment of being on the balcony of a random lady, looking at the mountains and hearing greek chatter and birds chirping in the background like there was not another soul in the world.
How to top up a day like this? Ice cream, always ice cream. I mean we did survive the apocalypse so we damn right deserve at least three scoops.
Cheers to the mess we’ve made!