The Avakas Gorge – a beautiful canyon on the edge of the Akamas Peninsula. A winding nature trail leads through the gorge, across bridges, along streams and over boulders. Suitable footwear, sun cream, provisions and hiking poles were our priorities for walking the gorge.

For my mum, it was very simple.

‘I’m not going without my handbag. I might need my comb.’

My parents are visiting for two weeks. They love Cyprus almost as much as I do and I enjoy showing off the island to them. They’ve been all over the place in the last four years but the Avakas Gorge was a first.

You get to the Avakas Gorge by driving to Paphos and then taking the E701 coastal road north past Tombs of the Kings, Coral Bay and Paphos Zoo. It will eventually turn into a track that leads to Lara Bay, but you don’t go that far. Park next to the big sign for Viklari restaurant. This is where you start your Avakas Gorge walk.

We parked up and headed along a track that leads to the gorge. When we first visited in 2015, we drove along that track to a car park nearer the actual gorge. Never again. Not only is it on the edge of a sheer drop, the road is so rutted it was one of the few times we’ve needed 4×4.

Instead we followed a footpath through a field in the valley that leads to the gorge.

No one could persuade Mummy to leave her handbag or comb in the car. Her handbag is a nice one – white leather with silver studs to go with her pristine white cropped trousers. My mum has always been stylish. Though I wasn’t certain the white and silver combo would survive a trek through streams and along dusty tracks.

As we walked along a path through a field of tall grass, it seemed there was more to worry about than snazzy handbags.

‘Ah! I’m going back! I’m only in flip-flops. The snakes!!!!’ A slightly hysterical woman was walking towards us with a group of friends.

Their guide was telling them about snakes. ‘You’ll die in 15 minutes,’ he said, pointing across the field.

I asked if they’d seen a snake. They hadn’t but the guide assured me there were loads in the grass. He spotted Herc. ‘Ah! You’re going to kill your baby.’

Of course we were.

The guide hurried back to the car park with the group of gullible tourists. I guess he couldn’t be arsed to do the walk. Why else would he scare them?

We continued on, assuring my slightly freaked-out parents that if there were any snakes about, all that shrieking would have sent them running for the hills.

Soon we reached the start of the Avakas Gorge Nature Trail. From this point, the trail takes you roughly 2.5km along the bank of the stream and through the increasingly narrow canyon.

It was at this point that Mummy’s white handbag and trousers faced their first challenge – crossing a collapsed bridge. This involved climbing down across boulders and up the other side. Goobie scooted on ahead to show how it’s done. I passed Mummy a hiking pole and she managed it like a pro, handbag clutched tightly under her arm.

The trail took us through different kinds of trees, some with signs to tell you what they are. The Avakas Gorge is a protected Natura 2000 site and home to many species, from bats and amphibians to birds such as the Long-legged buzzard and the Bonelli’s eagle.

The gorge is also home to various flora and fauna. We passed numerous flowers as we followed the footpath.

For me, the nature trail falls into two halves. The first half is an easy, pretty walk along the stream. It’s largely in the shade as you walk under trees and past shrubs covered in pink flowers.

For the first half of the trail, the path takes you across the stream numerous times. You hop across rocks, taking care on the wet, slippery ones. In places, pallets have been put down to make it easier. Young children won’t have trouble walking this and I managed it easily with Herc in the sling. Mummy’s handbag had little reason to worry and even her white trousers remained unscathed.

Goobie loved the stream, running on ahead so that he could count tadpoles and paddle in the deeper waters.

On the second half of the trail, the trees give way to sheer cliff faces, scarred by the ancient waters that created the gorge millions of years ago.

The gorge narrows the further on you walk and offers a different sort of beauty to the lush vegetation earlier in the trail. The rock striations soar upwards dramatically, brave plants clinging to the sides.

The pathway narrows at this point and it looked increasingly likely that we’d end up wading through the stream. But for now, Mummy’s outfit remained searingly white.

Until this point, Herc had been happy to enjoy the walk from his sling. But now he wanted to get down and move. The stream here is shallow and the path flat, so we let him stretch his legs.

As we continued further into the gorge, the path petered out and Mummy faced a choice. She could either stay dry by clambering over the rocks at the sides of the gorge, or she could wade through the stream. Her decision boiled down to whether she cared more about her handbag and comb or keeping her trousers white. Climbing the rocks risked dropping her bag in the stream. Wading risked splashing her trousers. She was wearing a sturdy pair of sandals and chose wading.

My dad on the other hand won’t be seen dead wearing sandals or flashing a bit of ankle. He chose to climb the rocks to keep his trainers, socks and full-length jeans dry. I’m not sure he succeeded.

I chose to wade too. It wasn’t deep and was wonderfully refreshing after the hot walk. It was the safest route with Herc as the boulders at the side could be slippery and tricky to navigate.

If you are visiting the gorge after the rains, expect to get your feet wet. If you visit in summer (which I wouldn’t recommend – you’ll roast) or end of summer, the stream will likely be just a trickle.

We continued onwards and soon reached the most famous feature of the Avakas Gorge – the enormous boulder wedged high in the air between the two sides of the gorge. Who dares to have their photo taken under it? Pretty much everyone.

We walked a little further to a section almost totally enclosed by the gorge’s walls. Here water dripped down on to some interesting rock formations.

We didn’t go any further. I remembered from last time that the boulders get a lot bigger further on – too big to climb over with a white studded handbag. Or a toddler in a sling for that matter.

For those without toddlers or handbags, you can keep going along the gorge until you come out at the very top.

We turned round and headed back the way we had come. Back through the stream, back over the rocks and bridges, back under the pink flowers. All the way back to the track we’d started on.

And as we reached the car, I noticed that Mummy’s handbag had survived. It had survived the risk of submersion in the stream, survived dust clouds, bird poo, falling rocks and a falling Mummy. That handbag had gone on an adventure no handbag had been designed to take, tucked protectively under Mummy’s arm like an extra prosthetic limb.

And equally unlikely, her pristine white trousers had survived too. How, I don’t know. I looked down at my grotty t-shirt and hiking trousers covered in crushed biscuit, Herc’s snot, grass seeds and something unidentifiable. And my hair was a tangle of sweat, dust and . . . something unidentifiable.

I wish I’d inherited Mummy’s style genes.

But she didn’t need her comb. Because, infuriatingly, not a single hair in her perfectly straight fringe was out of place.

Bum.