My Cypriote “Neighbor” - Paphos, Cyprus August 2023

I spent an amazing month in Paphos, Cyprus in the summer of 2023.

One of the highlights of this trip was the food.

Mediterranean food is one of my favorite cuisines, especially in the summer and excessive heat of Cyprus. I had been researching restaurants and found a very highly rated tapas place I quickly added to the top of my list of places to go to.

I quickly learned that reservations were VERY hard to come by at this place, but it was possible to get a walk-in as soon as they opened. I trudged 3km uphill in 7 billion degrees and 900% humidity to get there right at opening time, only to be refused service for being a solo diner.

After arguing with the hostess and saying I’d happily eat for two, and still being refused, I was hot, hungry, and angry.

Luckily there was a place directly across the street that had cold drinks and fans, so I headed that way, sidled up to the bar and was greeted much warmer and welcomingly by the bartender who informed me it was happy hour.

Who needs tapas when there are two-for-one cocktails?

Not me! Clearly.

As I sat and enjoyed my drinks, I chatted a bit with the bartender and noticed the hostess looking at me several times as she passed by.

Assuming she was just enraptured by my beauty, I let it slide until she finally stopped and approached me asking where I was from.

“New York”. Because that is my city, state, and country.

The biggest smile appeared on her face and she said “I thought so!” and asked where in the city I was from.

This turned into a full conversation about how she had also lived in NYC for several years and the various neighborhoods she has lived in.

In an act of rebellion, she had left the Greek/Cypriot Queens neighborhood she had spent years in and moved to Harlem.

“Where in Harlem’.

“The East Side”

“Me too! 117th and Lexington”

“117th and Lexington? Right by the 116th Street Station?”

“Yup!”

She had lived 2 blocks away.

For 3 years we were neighbors. We took the same train, went to the same stores, same pizza shop.

And here we were.

In her bar.

She was not the hostess; she was the owner and had returned to Cyprus a few years early to fulfill her dream of opening a bar, which she had aptly named “NOLA” after visiting the city and falling in love with it.

If we are being honest, had I noticed the name, I probably would have passed by this bar. But the universe knew I was overdue to meet my rebel of a neighbor, who had moved to NYC, left the safety and familiarity of her community and moved to Harlem… like someone else I know.

After we chatted for a bit, she had a bar to run and I needed some food, so we exchanged numbers so she could send me some local Paphos recommendations and an invite to come back to the bar anytime.

I never made it back to the bar, but will never forget it, or my neighbor.

What a big small world it is.