Mixing it up in modern Nicosia
After decades as a tourist backwater, the Cypriot capital has finally burst into life – and the mojitos are going down a treat
YOU serve mojitos? With rum?’ I repeated it again, just to make sure I was hearing the bartender correctly. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he insisted. The bar was heaving and I was being pushed from all sides by punters waiting for their turn. ‘OK, I’ll have one.’
I never thought I would see mint being muddled in Nicosia and I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Seven years ago, trust me, there was not a chance that you could find a mojito anywhere within the city’s Venetian walls.
I was brought to Cyprus the first time, those seven years ago, to ‘meet’ the family, having found my own Greek-Cypriot in London. This mostly involved neighbours coming over to check me out every hour on the hour.
One even claimed she was there just to borrow some lemons, despite having an entire grove of her own. Today I am no longer the new one in town and every time I visit Nicosia, it feels like a second home.
In Cyprus we can spend hours chatting over coffee and cake. The conversation usually touches on the war, especially this month. Forty years ago, on July 20, 1974, the Turkish tanks rolled in and the Greek-Cypriots were forced to flee to the south. Nicosia had already been split in two but now the whole country was divided by the Green Line, separating Turks from Greeks and vice versa, and 40 years on, it remains so.
Although downtown Nicosia has grown considerably since that time and Southern Cyprus is now part of the European Union, the city felt frozen in time. Most of the restaurants would serve up standard traditional Cypriot meze – artificially pink taramasalata, mystery meats grilled to a crisp, soggy honey-covered pastries – to tourists on the way to the beach resorts of Larnaca, Paphos and Ayia Napa.
The rest of the annual three million summer visitors to Cyprus skipped it altogether. That was the Nicosia I had come to know.
The re-opening in 2008 of the roadblock on Ledra Street, Nicosia’s main shopping area – allow-
ing people to cross from north to south for the first time in 34 years – sparked the beginning of interest in this ancient capital. One wall had come down and it seemed the first step towards change.
Then, after the financial crisis hit, Nicosians began to migrate to the old town. Maybe it was the strength and safety of the 18th Century Venetian walls that made them feel grounded again.
International attention came to Nicosia again when Zaha Hadid – architect of the moment and brains behind the London Olympics ‘winged’ aquatics centre – won the competition to redesign Eleftherias Square, the old town’s main piazza. Her plans will force Nicosia into the 21st Century.
Undulating twists and curves will beckon tourists to enter and delight in what Nicosia now has to offer. Once in, they will be held captive by the town’s new restaurant, shopping and art scene.
The Market Company, where my mojito is being shaken, not stirred, sitting in a tiny alleyway off Ona- sagorou Street, is one of the new wave of restaurants invading old Nicosia. It’s a typical ‘kafeneio’ in the morning but as the day goes on and the sun goes down, it turns into one of the busiest restaurants in town. Its chef is one of the many reinventing traditional Cypriot food for its new audience.
RESTAURANTS are so busy that you have to reserve or forget getting in. On previous visits, I have never had to reserve a table – anywhere. It’s not only the new that Nicosians are longing for now. Home cooking, food that conjures up memories of the past, is in high demand.
Customers queue ten-deep outside places like Evroullas, a really local Cypriot diner. Once the dining establishment of skilled and unskilled labourers, you now see suits lining up to partake of classic, stick-to-your-bones Cypriot fare – any grilled meat with the de rigueur potato and halloumi sides served by gruff no-nonsense waiters. Zanettos Cyprus Tavern is the place where every first time visitor should be introduced to meze. Hundreds of delicious dishes right out of the oven keep coming until you are about to pop.
Kala Kathoumena coffee shop, under the shadow of Phaneromeni Church, is hopping with hipsters playing tavli – Greek backgammon. Meanwhile at AVO, the line for lahmadjoun – Turkish pizza topped with minced meat, veg and herbs – wraps round the block after bars close on Saturday night.
Not only is the food scene changing moment to moment, but museums and stores are popping up everywhere. This year saw the opening of the Centre of Visual Arts and Research, a new gallery with more than 1,500 works of 18th and 19th Century Cypriot art. The Centre complements existing attractions, such as the Cyprus Archaeological Museum, which traces the history of civilisation on the island.
Shopping-wise, Staart and Phaneromenis 70, the first Nicosia ‘concept’ stores, have opened and are part of a thriving community embracing its own local artists. For the first time, there is a place in the old town to find products being created by local Nicosians.
In the past seven years, I have seen Nicosia finally embrace its ancient traditions and create new ones. It’s as if the city has finally earned its rightful place among all the other European capitals. There is no reason to skip it on the way to the beach any more, because you will be missing out on a really special place. With my mojito in hand, I toast to the new Nicosia heading straight to the future.