The Cyprus Museum in Nicosia is Cyprus’s principal museum, housing archaeological gems found across the island. And for one hour on a rainy Saturday afternoon, it also housed my children. An unforgettable experience – for all the wrong reasons.
Goobie loves museums. There’s the Shipwreck Museum in Kyrenia Castle. He spent FOREVER there, mesmerised by a 2400-year-old wooden hull. He was wowed by the Soloi treasure in Morphou’s archaeological museum. Then there was the Natural History Museum in London with its stuffed birds. The dinosaur exhibition in Singapore, the Acropolis Museum in Athens. And he enjoyed the Heraklion archaeological museum in Crete for a bit – until I spent too long gushing over Minoan pots.
My point is, it wasn’t an entirely ridiculous idea to take Goobie to the Cyprus Museum on a rainy day.
We hadn’t given much thought to Herc’s preferences. Something we’re learning to ignore at our peril. He is no longer a little baby, happy to cuddle up in the sling all day. He’s a growing toddler with Big Opinions.
Herc’s history with museums is a bit patchy after the Poo Incident in Heraklion’s archaeological museum last year.
We drove a fair way to get to the Cyprus Museum in central Nicosia. There’s a big car park a five-minute walk away. The museum is housed in a beautiful building and has a pretty garden that I think you can walk through when it isn’t raining.
The Cyprus Museum was founded in 1888 and is the oldest and largest archaeological museum in Cyprus. It had been built during British rule of the island to protect against illegal excavations and smuggling artefacts out of the country.
Entry is €4.50 (Goobie and Herc were free). We took our tickets and headed eagerly towards the first room. Each room in the museum takes you through a different period in the island’s history.
Within five minutes, I realised that this visit might not go as planned.
Goobie has been studying the Stone Age at school and loved his school trip to Choirokoitia last month. So he was interested in the Neolithic room for about three minutes.
And then he started to do that weird thing children do when they are bored. The fidgety, ball-of-energy thing where they throw their arms, legs and head around like some demented creature from a poorly-made horror movie.
It took my brain time to compute. Why would Goobie be bored surrounded by all this fascinating stuff?
Because, I did find it fascinating. I was looking at artefacts found in the numerous sites we’d visited across the island. There were tools from Kouklia, figurines from Enkomi, bowls from Sotira. The displays told you where they had been excavated and some background info on the culture at the time. The museum brought all those places to life.
We entered a long room filled with beautifully-decorated pots. I started to get gushy.
Goobie started what can only be described as some sort of freestyle dance up and down the room. It brought to mind pissed 3am Napa dancing. He’s entering a lanky phase, all long legs and fingers, knobbly knees and bony shoulders.
I hope he didn’t scare anyone.
Herc decided he wanted to join in the fun.
‘Down!’ he commanded.
Matt kept him in the sling. I tried to concentrate on Mycenaean pot artistry.
Goobie started running his long, grubby fingers along the pristine glass display cabinets as he continued his dance freakery. What is it with seven-year-old boys and disgusting fingers? They are sticky even after an annual wash.
‘Noooooooo!!!’ I squawked. ‘Don’t touch!’
‘I’m borrrrred,’ Goobie replied.
‘DOWN!!!’ Herc yelled into the echoey museum. We all ignored him.
Thank god for the terracotta figures. There were loads of them in a massive corner display. This impressive hoard had been found in the Sanctuary of Ayia Irini in Northern Cyprus. Finally, something that grabbed Goobie’s attention.
We continued into a room filled with statues of people, sphinxes, lions and other creatures. Goobie really liked these too.
And then we reached Septimus Severus. He made quite an impression on me. For a very wrong reason.
‘Blimey, I’ve never seen a nude with a stiffy before.’
I imagined being the farmer who found this massive bronze statue of the Roman emperor while ploughing his fields. I found part of a medieval bowl once and it made my year. The farmer would have seen immediately that Septimus Severus didn’t actually have a stiffy, just a very pointy right hand.
Whatever. He was an impressive statue.
‘DOWN! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!!!!!’ Herc shouted. People looked up, their thoughts on expressive Roman sculpture interrupted by Herc’s expressive gob.
It was time to unleash the toddler.
Madness.
His feet touched the ground and he was off, barrelling through a room filled with glass cabinets.
I wanted time to savour the amazing Roman helmet on display and the brilliantly-crafted bronze figures from Vouni. But I knew what Herc was looking for – the nearest staircase to throw himself down.
I caught him as he ran through a door to the right and straight towards a sweeping staircase.
I led him into a room filled with artefacts inscribed with Cypro-syllabic text. Goobie was interested in this because I’d recently found a mysterious pebble that appears to have Cypro-syllabic inscriptions on it. We wanted to compare it with the artefacts in the museum.
Then there was a room with sculptures from Cyprus’s ancient city kingdoms. But Matt was sick of sculptures, Goobie was sick of being here and Herc was sick of holding my hand. He wrenched free and legged it towards the stairs. Matt legged it after him.
Goobie started his demented energy-ball thing again until I spotted something – dead things! Thank god for dead things. There were skeletons in replicas of tombs. He loved this bit.
Herc finally got the chance to climb some stairs. He did this for 10 minutes while I imagined what other delights the museum might hold that I would only be able to glance at.
At the top of the stairs, my nose detected something truly horrible. A Suspicious Smell.
‘Herc, have you got a poo in your nappy?’
‘Poo?’ Herc said innocently.
We walked into another large, echoey display room.
‘No!’ Goobie roared. ‘That was me. I FARTED. Ha ha ha ha ha.’
I couldn’t meet the eye of anyone else in the room. Head down, I ushered my family out of the nearest door. Closely followed by the Suspicious Smell.
The next delight was a new and alarming development on our two-child parenting journey – the ability of two children to work as a team to wind each other up. Goobie was an only child for six years. This was new territory.
Both of them rolled around on the floor together, laughing loudly. Watched by some exquisite golden jewellery on one side and some fragile Roman glass on the other.
I stood in the middle of the museum and let out a muted wail.
‘Why aren’t our children behaving?!’ I said to Matt. In the past, Goobie loved museums and Herc had slept quietly in a sling.
Matt didn’t have any answers.
One corner room of the museum housed the marble statues from the Gymnasium of Salamis. There was something poignant about seeing them here on the south side of the Green Line. Salamis is one of the greatest archaeological sites in Cyprus and seeing these statues was my highlight.
Finally, we’d reached the last room. Our two balls of demented energy ran around the room, making too much noise.
‘I’ve had enough.’ Matt said and scooped up Herc.
Herc started to scream.
We legged it out of the museum.
We didn’t get far. We were met by a wall of rain the other side of the museum’s grand porch. While it poured, we sat on benches to wait for a break in the clouds.
Other people were sheltering from the rain too. Herc walked up to all of them and said a cheery hello, screaming forgotten.
One guy in his twenties looked embarrassed. Herc gave him a Hard Stare.
‘A badda badda badda!’ he barked at the man.
Herc walked away then glanced back over his shoulder. ‘A badda badda BADDA badda!’ he added contemptuously.
The man chose to brave the rain.
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