Landing in Cyprus – November 1995

Landing in Cyprus – November 1995

​Arriving in Cyprus in November 1995 was a real challenge for me. It was the first time I had ever left my home country to live abroad, far away from my family. I was filled with curiosity, endless questions—and fear.

The moment I landed at Larnaca Airport, I felt like I had stepped into a completely different world. At the taxi rank, there were only Mercedes-Benz cars, something I had never seen before. The drive from Larnaca to Nicosia took about 30 minutes, and as the sun set, the unfamiliar roads and landscapes added to my anxiety. I didn’t have a cell phone back then—smartphones were unheard of—so there was no way to check my location or call anyone for reassurance.

When I finally arrived in Nicosia, at 14 Fevriou Street, right across from "Our Lady of Graces Maronite Church", I moved into a large house with 13 other students. For the next three months, we shared everything—space, meals, and experiences. This communal lifestyle was completely new to me. Fortunately, my university was only a 10-minute walk away.

Every day on the island brought something unexpected. Cyprus, though small, carries an immense history—even older than Egypt. Before beginning my main course in Hotel Management, I spent time learning Greek and improving my English.

Yet, every night before bed, homesickness would set in. I would often hide under the sheets and cry, silently carrying the weight of missing home until sleep took over.

By early spring of 1996, I moved into a new home to live more independently. Around that time, I met someone who would profoundly shape my life—my artistic mentor and teacher, Mr. Glyn Hughes. While pursuing my Hotel Management studies, I found myself drawn into the world of art, exploring new dimensions of creativity and self-expression under Glyn’s guidance. He introduced me to weekend art classes in Kaimakli, held next to" Church Agia Varvara", where I immersed myself in painting and creative techniques. Beyond the classroom, Glyn gave me personal lessons and guidance, helping me understand not just the technical aspects of art but also the deeper meaning behind it. Through him, I also became involved in various cultural and artistic activities across the island—experiences that enriched my perspective and shaped my identity in ways I could never have imagined.

Life on this small, seemingly barren island taught me lessons I’ll never forget. Cyprus has a unique magnetic energy—it draws you in, and it never really lets you go. Even today, I return regularly, each visit stirring old memories and new inspirations.

I plan to share more stories from those years in upcoming blog posts—stay tuned for the journey.