I called a hotel owner in Protaras yesterday. His name’s Yiannis. He laughed when I asked about safety. “My biggest problem is seagulls stealing chips from tourists,” he said. That’s it. That’s the state of Cyprus.
Tourist numbers are actually up this year. People are voting with their wallets. The locals are tired of being asked, “Is it safe?” They’re more worried about whether you’ll try halloumi straight from the grill. Spoiler: you should.
If you’re still uneasy, book a direct flight from a major hub (London, Berlin, Amsterdam). Fewer stops = fewer chances for delays. And pick a hotel with a rooftop bar. Nothing soothes travel anxiety like a glass of Commandaria at sunset.
Final verdict: go, but keep one eye open.
Cyprus isn’t a warzone. It’s a place where people argue over olive oil quality and drive like they’re in a video game. The real risk is that you’ll love it so much you’ll never want to leave. That’s a dangerous addiction.
So pack your sunscreen, leave the armchair general nervosity at home, and enjoy the halloumi. Clara’s suitcase eventually showed up, by the way. It was two days later, but she was too busy snorkeling to notice.
You probably will be too.
