Between moving house and returning to the UK for our first post-Covid visit, we haven’t spent as much time as usual in the sea this year. But with a few weeks remaining until the sea gets too cold (for me), we ditched the unpacking and headed to the Akamas Peninsula to swim in the gorgeous bay I remembered seeing from a restaurant years ago.
I looked up the area on Google Maps and was intrigued to see a little tree icon in the middle of the bay. What was a tree doing in the sea?! I clicked on it and a label called ‘The Green Lagoon’ popped up. Intriguing! I know The Blue Lagoon well but I’ve never heard of a Green Lagoon. I couldn’t wait to explore it.
We drove to the Baths of Aphrodite car park and found the steps that are at both ends of the Baths of Aphrodite restaurant. These steps lead down to the bay below.
The beach directly beneath the restaurant is known as the Baths of Aphrodite beach. There’s some sand, a few sun loungers and a life guard. But we were more interested in the western end of the bay where pyramidal rocks form a shallow peninsula that points to a tall, but tiny, island rising out of the sea. On the other side of this peninsula is The Green Lagoon.
The Green Lagoon is surrounded by steep slopes that lead down to a tiny pebble beach called Aphrodite’s Wild Beach. It was pretty but we stayed around the rocky peninsula for one main reason – it’s brilliant for young children!
The peninsula is filled with shallow rock pools. The rocks are sharp and slippery in places, so sea shoes are a must. Herc and Goobie spent ages exploring the rock pools, finding hermit crabs, shrimp and tiny fish, sea glass and pebbles of every colour.
Herc loved climbing the tall rocks, showing off to Goobie that although he’s half his height and half his age, he is just as good at climbing, thank you very much.
The rocks on the peninsula are called serpentinite rocks, so-called because ribbons of white rock give them a snakeskin appearance. These are metamorphic rocks, created when minerals are transformed by intense heat and pressure. We could see within the rock numerous layers all squashed together.
The most distinctive feature of the bay is its little island. I can’t find a name for this island or any information about its history, particularly the reason for the large cross at its summit. Was it a holy island? Was there once a tragedy there? Is the cross some sort of warning to sailors? If anyone knows, please leave a comment below.
Goobie and I made the short journey to the island, wading through rocky shallows and swimming the deeper bits. We went on a calm day. I imagine the journey could be trickier in rougher conditions. As we reached the island a magnificent wall of serpentinite rock curved over us like a solidified wave.
The first few metres of the climb up the island was tricky, with steep, sharp rock and loose stones. I was pleased I wore sea shoes. Goobie hopped up the slope far quicker than I did – gone are the days when my climbing feats could impress him.
We clambered up and looked back across the water to the mainland. It was beautiful and remote, the hills of the Akamas rising above the bay. Below, Matt and Herc waved up to us.
We climbed to the very summit of the island and stood under the cross. Beware the sudden drop on the other side. It took me by surprise.
‘Oh sh—!’ I stopped myself just before I said it.
‘What was that? Did you say the S-word?’ You did, didn’t you?’
The boy who is so daydreamy that he forgets to wear his shoes to the shops. Unless you accidentally utter the first letter of a swear word.
‘No . . .’ I lie.
‘You did! You did! You said . . . SHIT!’ Overhearing adults swearing brings him such joy – mainly because he sees it as a green light to say the word too. I’ve explained adult hypocrisy to him and how that means that he still can’t swear but, for some reason, he ain’t buying it.
I was beginning to feel dizzy with the Mummy-Wobbles. I get a weird vertigo when Goobie is around sheer drops.
‘Okay,’ I said wearily. ‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, shitting shit.’
That took the wind out of his sails and he climbed down in shocked silence.
And that is my main memory of the little island – saying shit to my son and wondering whether I’d just invented a new parenting strategy.
Matt and Herc were waiting for us in the sea when we left the island. It was time to discover what the Green Lagoon was like beneath the water.
For family snorkelling, Matt or I wear a life-jacket and Herc sits on our back. His weight pushes us just beneath the surface of the water so that we can snorkel too. Herc can swim about five metres which is great for swimming pools but in the sea he wears his own life-jacket when out of his depth. Together we swam around the island.
There was reef all around the small island. Orange marine plants clinging to rocks, rainbow wrasse darting in and out of nooks. Massive submerged rocks created channels to swim along. We saw bream and pipefish and a host of other fish we couldn’t identify.
Then in the shallows of the island we spotted one of the largest shoals we’d ever seen in Cyprus. Thousands of tiny silver fish. And they weren’t even that shy.
‘Herc! Fishies!’
Herc lowered his googles over his eyes and put his head under the water. How lucky he is to grow up on this island. I didn’t see shoals of fish like that until I was in my twenties. He’s three.
But a childhood in the sea has its drawbacks too. Over confidence. We swam round to the far side of the island where the sea was deeper, rougher and more intimidating. Black spiky sea urchins looked up at us from the depths. The shit-inducing cliff loomed overhead, the cross staring judgementally down at us. ‘Really? You’re swimming round here with your three-year-old??!’
Waves were splashing Herc in the face but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he’d just realised that he hadn’t jumped on Goobie for a while – and there was Goobie swimming alongside him. He launched himself off my back onto his brother. Goobie laughed and wrestled him back, trying not to sink under his weight.
‘Really??’ I spluttered. ‘Shenanigans, here?!!’
Thankfully, Goobie saw something more exciting than his brother.
‘Squid!!!’
Just beneath the surface was a small shoal of baby squid. Light reflected off them in multicolours.
We’d reached the Green Lagoon side of the island and swam through another massive shoal of fish. Perhaps this place is a fish nursery, the shallows protecting the small fish from larger predators. We’d seen something similar on the east coast in Vrysoudia Bay.
We didn’t swim out into the middle of the Green Lagoon as the sea was deeper and murkier. I wondered whether the Green Lagoon is actually a dive site and that we’d adopted the name for the whole area.
We skirted the island and followed the peninsula back to shore. It had been a fabulous snorkelling experience for all of us.
We walked along the beach back towards the steps. The sea around the Baths of Aphrodite beach is shallow, clear and utterly beautiful. Perfect for young children to paddle in (with sea shoes).
We finished our day with a meal at the Baths of Aphrodite restaurant. The food is average-priced (15+ euros for a fish dish) and there was stuff on the menu for everyone. We’ve stopped here before after hiking the Aphrodite nature trail and the Adonis trail. We bagged a table with the best view of the bay below.
I looked out towards Pomos in the distance, framed by the dark mountains behind it. It made my heart soar. How I love Chrysochou Bay with its sweeping beaches and rugged beauty. It’s one of my favourite places on the island.
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