I was a child when I first visited the monastery of Apostolos Andreas. I could hardly walk. My mother running after me “Watch out the steps, slowly at the steps”. It was a beautiful spring day, she said. I was running barefoot on the beach; pure bliss!
I have no memories of that day, too young anyways. Then, Apostolos Andreas became a photo on my school notebooks; “Do not forget” (“Δεν ξεχνώ”) blunt letters printed on top.
Yesterday, armed with a camera I visited again the monastery on the occasion of the completion of Phase 1 of the restoration process that was carried out jointly by Greek and Turkish Cypriots. Pictures speak louder than words! Fragments of a lost homeland? Hopefully not.