Cyprus in late September
Posted: Mon Oct 04, 2021 2:11 pm
One of the many knock-on effects of the Coronavirus pandemic has been the eclosion of a new condition that will by now be all-too-familiar to many readers and contributors to this particular UK Butterflies forum. For the past eighteen months, European Butterfly Withdrawal Syndrome (or EBWS for short) has been rife and circulating amongst us. It has yet to be officially recognised by the British Medical Association, and it is unlikely that your local GP will have much of a clue as to what to prescribe for you, should you seek his or her advice, but the struggle is real! Symptoms range from a vague sense of dissatisfaction with life, through to thoughts of despair at being restricted to seeing just 60 species of butterfly in a year, where once you could see that many in a day at certain continental hotspots. Some sufferers express concerns over the lack of new species added to their life-lists (so-called “lifers” or “life-ticks”), others tell of sorrow at not being able to travel to foreign climes and enjoy different cultures, magnificent scenery and marvelously rich assemblages of insects. Many speak of extensively planned trips, meticulously mapped out and researched over many months, that have left the carriageway and fallen into the gutter, just another part of the seemingly endless carnage of the COVID-19 contagion.
To date, no effective cure has been found for EBWS. One therapy that has proven partially successful has been the vicarious pleasure that may be had by reading about the experiences of those, who, despite the challenges of PCR tests, passenger location forms, and other bureaucratic barrages, have actually managed to defy the odds and make a trip to France, Spain, Greece, or some other far-flung land in pursuit of winged beasts. These brave warriors may have endured hardships unheard of in recent entomological history: they may have worn face-masks for inordinately long periods of time, in airports and on airplanes; they may have spent most of their children’s inheritance funding numerous invasive nostril and throat-swabbings; they might even have travelled hundreds or even thousands of miles by road in pursuit of their targets, doggedly avoiding high population densities and crowded bars and restaurants. And when they eventually get home, safe and sound despite the terror all around and the fear of that positive COVID result just beforehand, what do they do? They altruistically write it all down, throw in some photographs, and share their joyful experiences on this forum for the benefit of all the poor sufferers who haven’t been able to physically enjoy European butterflies themselves this season or last. But even this generously donated therapeutic resource is not without jeopardy; adverse reactions and side-effects have been widely reported, including, but not limited to, anything ranging from mild envy to rabid, near-homicidal jealousy.
I was most fortunate to get some much needed respite from my own symptoms at the end of May, during a wonderful week in Corfu, but in late June I suffered a major relapse, as I was forced to cancel a 12 day trip to south-west France, where I had hoped to pick up around half a dozen new species. This exacerbation of my EBWS left me desperate to try and plan another trip for later this year. I decided late September might be OK, and maybe travel would be more relaxed by then. Casting around for ideas as to where I might be able to go and find a few decent butterflies, I eventually settled on Cyprus, somewhere I have never been before, and on Saturday 25th of September we flew out of Birmingham and arrived in Paphos around 8:30pm to the chaos of around 5 international flights simultaneously attempting to get into and through the airport. You cannot go to Cyprus without obtaining a Cyprus Flight Pass – you need it everywhere out there to get into shopping malls, restaurants, bars, etc. Applying for this pass is quite a tricky online process, with some interesting challenges to overcome due to the software and formatting style of the Cypriot website, and you have to upload a copy of your NHS vaccination status, or provide evidence of natural immunity from a recent infection of COVID. We assumed that having a Cyprus Flight Pass would be enough to get us into the terminal, but no, the airport staff insisted on also seeing our NHS vaccination QR codes, because, in the words of one official, “you can put whatever you like onto the application form for a Cyprus Flight Pass. No-one checks anything”…it really is quite mind-blowing, the madness of the bureaucracy and testing regimes and the “evidence” requested in order to travel at the moment!
Anyway, we got there, and reached our hotel late Saturday night.
Sunday 26th September
We had booked a hire car from the Monday to the Friday, so on Sunday we relaxed around our hotel and took a walk along the coastal path just north of the Tombs of the Kings, on the west coast of the island, near Paphos. The vegetation here was dried to a crisp, the mercury was reading 30 degrees C. and there were very few butterflies on the wing, other than African Grass Blues, which were quite common. We also saw one Painted Lady, one Clouded Yellow, and about a dozen Small Whites during a two hour meander, before the heat forced us back to the air-conditioned room and then the pool.
Coast near Paphos
Z.knysna
Monday 27th September
We got up for an excellent early breakfast, took a taxi into Paphos to pick up the hire car, and headed off to a site near the local reservoir, where I hoped to find the African Ringlet, top of my target list for this holiday. Excellent friend and fellow enthusiast Bob Lambert had been out here in the spring a couple of years back and found this species in reasonable numbers, so I had some good information from him on exactly where to be and what to expect.
Habitat of the African Ringlet
Sure enough, we soon found a couple of them flying around. My first life tick of the week was in the bag! This is a fascinating species, quite unlike any other member of the “brown” family. It flies like a cross between a blue and a skipper, quite fast, low and erratic, and appears quite silvery when on the wing. It is also a complete **** (insert your preferred expletive here) to photograph! Our experience of it, in very hot sunny conditions, was that it appears to spend long periods not moving at all (as evidenced by there being no sign of any on the wing for long periods), then when it does fly, it rarely stops. On occasions when it actually stops, this is usually behind a bush or under a rocky overhang or half-way up a rock face, and at this point it will flick open its wings twice in succession, showing its eye-spots for around a second each time, then hunker down and refuse to show its upper-side forewing spots again. The ones we observed settling rarely stayed put for more than five or six seconds after the two flashes, before taking to the wing once more, invariably disappearing at some point shortly after with a sudden manic spurt of extra speed. This behaviour pattern may well be a defence against the numerous lizards that share the butterfly’s preferred habitat. I consider myself very lucky to have managed to get this single underside photograph after hours of failure!
Y.asterope
Nothing else was flying at the African Ringlet site so in the afternoon we moved on to a coastal location where I hoped to find Little Tiger Blues, but again, the vegetation was burnt, the conditions arid, and very few butterflies were seen. We did find a few more African Grass Blues, one Common Blue and one Long-tailed Blue, and then we moved about 100 metres inland onto a rough bit of semi-agricultural land with some wild patches, where a few nectar sources were somehow surviving in the desert-like conditions. Here we saw a single Pygmy Skipper, shortly followed by a single Mallow Skipper, and a solitary Swallowtail (the Cyprus ones are of the subspecies P.machaon syriacus).
P.machaon ssp.syriacus
Suddenly a copper appeared – it looked like a Small Copper, but I wasn’t taking any chances on that, and somehow managed to keep track of it as it zig-zagged around at high speed for over a minute before finally alighting. Going in with my camera I was thrilled to find that it was actually a female Lesser Fiery Copper – another lifer for me! Great stuff! It would prove to be the only one we saw all week.
Habitat of Lesser Fiery Copper
L.thersamon
On our drive back towards the hotel we stopped by some roadside shrubs that were alive with butterflies. These all turned out to be Lang’s Short-tailed Blues and they were courting, nectaring, and egg-laying in large numbers, all hyperactive in the heat.
L.pirithous "in flight" courtship shot
Tuesday 28th September
Today we drove south to Akrotiri and spent some time searching for Small Desert Blues around the coast. Once again, the vegetation was largely desiccated, and the only blue to be found was the seemingly ubiquitous African Grass Blue. Next, we headed to Akrotiri Marsh, a wetland site well-known for its birdlife, but also a known site for Millet Skipper, another target species. It was supposed to be common here, according to my research, particularly at this time of the year, but we struggled to find any. At last, my wife spotted one flying low along the edge of some reeds. It was a tatty, faded specimen. A further hour of searching yielded just one other example, but it was camera-shy. After a diversion into Lemassos for some lunch, I persuaded my wife that we should head back for one last attempt at getting a decent photo. As I walked to the edge of a large stand of reeds, a much fresher Millet Skipper alighted right in front of me and posed politely for a couple of minutes. Happy days! These were the only Millet Skippers that we found during our time in Cyprus.
Akrotiri habitat of Millet Skipper
P.thrax
Wednesday 29th September
We had been eating very well at our hotel – the food greatly exceeded our expectations from this relatively cheap three star all-inclusive deal – and the wine was also just the right side of drinkable. The heat meant that doing much in the way of strenuous activity was out of the question, and with due regard to our calorie intake, today we decided to drive inland, gain some altitude, and see if the temperatures were lower up in the Troodos mountains. We needed a good walk. I had programmed the Sat Nav with a few choice locations prior to leaving the UK, and duly loaded up the co-ordinates for Xyliatos. Mrs. Nav said it would take 2 hours and 14 minutes to get there. Off we went, motorway right around the coast, then inland from Larnaca towards Lefkosia, before turning off and climbing up towards Xyliatos. We parked up near a picnic site near the Xyliatos dam, and did plenty of walking. Was it cooler? Well, it had dropped from a balmy 30 degrees on the coast, to a nippy 29 degrees at 500 metres above sea level!
View from near Xyliatos dam
Apparently we were in a good area for Grass Jewel, my second “most-wanted” target species for this week. But we weren’t seeing any. On the plus side, there were plenty of “Graylings” flying around. These were of course the endemic Cyprus Grayling, my fourth life-tick of the holiday, which was rapidly followed by a fifth in the form of another endemic, the Cyprus Meadow Brown. Tremendous stuff!
H.cypriensis
M.cypricola
We climbed up and down hillsides and along roads for a further three hours, then, out of nowhere, I spotted the tiniest of butterflies flying along a verge. It landed right in front of me and I immediately went in with my camera, trying to find it. It was incredibly small, but when I finally had it in focus, it was indeed the beautiful Grass Jewel, the first I had ever seen despite searching in vain in many parts of Greece over the years. It too would turn out to be the only one we found all week, an incredible moment of great good fortune!
F.trochylus
Habitat of Grass Jewel and Cyprus Grayling
Before we left Xyliatos, cloud was building over the Troodos range and we heard a few rumbles of thunder in the distance. Mrs.Nav, in her infinite wisdom, routed us back to the hotel through the middle of the Troodos, and as the skies darkened we drove through a storm of biblical proportions and intensity. The roads turned to rivers, rocks fell from the hillsides, and I am pretty sure there may even have been the occasional frog falling from the heavens. The drive home was a blend of great fun and mild terror, punctuated with occasional episodes of aquaplaning interspersed with flashing thoughts of premature death…
A big celebration was had that night over yet more delicious food and copious wine, to commemorate three lifers in one day, a rare event in these times.
Thursday 30th September / Friday 1st October
We revisited the African Ringlet site again on both of the mornings of our last two full days in Cyprus, in a fruitless effort to get some upper-side photographs. We also walked along the dramatic Avakas Gorge, where more Cyprus Meadow Browns were on the wing. A few more touristy activities filled our remaining hours, and we headed home late on the Saturday, arriving back in Blighty in the early hours of Sunday morning. The drive back got us home at 04:00 hours.
So, in conclusion, Cyprus was very sparse in butterfly action this year at the end of September and I had to work hard (and enjoy a good dose of luck) to come away with 6 life-ticks, but the whole experience was fantastic, and a great antidote to the prolonged European Butterfly Withdrawal Syndrome syndromes. At the moment I am pleased to report that I am symptom-free!
The African Ringlets and Grass Jewel were the undoubted highlights, although the other lifers were also a delight to see. Would I go back to Cyprus? Well, it is very populous and touristy compared to our usual more rural, off-the-beaten-track destinations in France, Spain and Greece, almost urban in fact in many parts, but it isn’t without its charms. If I returned I would probably favour a spring trip when the landscape isn’t quite so scorched off, and I still need an open wing shot of the African Ringlet, so maybe in a few years an April trip could be on the cards. There is of course the Paphos Blue to catch up with also, and several other interesting species to be found out there. But for now I shall bask in the afterglow of last week in the very warm Cypriot sunshine and dream of next year’s European adventures with optimism…
To date, no effective cure has been found for EBWS. One therapy that has proven partially successful has been the vicarious pleasure that may be had by reading about the experiences of those, who, despite the challenges of PCR tests, passenger location forms, and other bureaucratic barrages, have actually managed to defy the odds and make a trip to France, Spain, Greece, or some other far-flung land in pursuit of winged beasts. These brave warriors may have endured hardships unheard of in recent entomological history: they may have worn face-masks for inordinately long periods of time, in airports and on airplanes; they may have spent most of their children’s inheritance funding numerous invasive nostril and throat-swabbings; they might even have travelled hundreds or even thousands of miles by road in pursuit of their targets, doggedly avoiding high population densities and crowded bars and restaurants. And when they eventually get home, safe and sound despite the terror all around and the fear of that positive COVID result just beforehand, what do they do? They altruistically write it all down, throw in some photographs, and share their joyful experiences on this forum for the benefit of all the poor sufferers who haven’t been able to physically enjoy European butterflies themselves this season or last. But even this generously donated therapeutic resource is not without jeopardy; adverse reactions and side-effects have been widely reported, including, but not limited to, anything ranging from mild envy to rabid, near-homicidal jealousy.
I was most fortunate to get some much needed respite from my own symptoms at the end of May, during a wonderful week in Corfu, but in late June I suffered a major relapse, as I was forced to cancel a 12 day trip to south-west France, where I had hoped to pick up around half a dozen new species. This exacerbation of my EBWS left me desperate to try and plan another trip for later this year. I decided late September might be OK, and maybe travel would be more relaxed by then. Casting around for ideas as to where I might be able to go and find a few decent butterflies, I eventually settled on Cyprus, somewhere I have never been before, and on Saturday 25th of September we flew out of Birmingham and arrived in Paphos around 8:30pm to the chaos of around 5 international flights simultaneously attempting to get into and through the airport. You cannot go to Cyprus without obtaining a Cyprus Flight Pass – you need it everywhere out there to get into shopping malls, restaurants, bars, etc. Applying for this pass is quite a tricky online process, with some interesting challenges to overcome due to the software and formatting style of the Cypriot website, and you have to upload a copy of your NHS vaccination status, or provide evidence of natural immunity from a recent infection of COVID. We assumed that having a Cyprus Flight Pass would be enough to get us into the terminal, but no, the airport staff insisted on also seeing our NHS vaccination QR codes, because, in the words of one official, “you can put whatever you like onto the application form for a Cyprus Flight Pass. No-one checks anything”…it really is quite mind-blowing, the madness of the bureaucracy and testing regimes and the “evidence” requested in order to travel at the moment!
Anyway, we got there, and reached our hotel late Saturday night.
Sunday 26th September
We had booked a hire car from the Monday to the Friday, so on Sunday we relaxed around our hotel and took a walk along the coastal path just north of the Tombs of the Kings, on the west coast of the island, near Paphos. The vegetation here was dried to a crisp, the mercury was reading 30 degrees C. and there were very few butterflies on the wing, other than African Grass Blues, which were quite common. We also saw one Painted Lady, one Clouded Yellow, and about a dozen Small Whites during a two hour meander, before the heat forced us back to the air-conditioned room and then the pool.
Monday 27th September
We got up for an excellent early breakfast, took a taxi into Paphos to pick up the hire car, and headed off to a site near the local reservoir, where I hoped to find the African Ringlet, top of my target list for this holiday. Excellent friend and fellow enthusiast Bob Lambert had been out here in the spring a couple of years back and found this species in reasonable numbers, so I had some good information from him on exactly where to be and what to expect.
Sure enough, we soon found a couple of them flying around. My first life tick of the week was in the bag! This is a fascinating species, quite unlike any other member of the “brown” family. It flies like a cross between a blue and a skipper, quite fast, low and erratic, and appears quite silvery when on the wing. It is also a complete **** (insert your preferred expletive here) to photograph! Our experience of it, in very hot sunny conditions, was that it appears to spend long periods not moving at all (as evidenced by there being no sign of any on the wing for long periods), then when it does fly, it rarely stops. On occasions when it actually stops, this is usually behind a bush or under a rocky overhang or half-way up a rock face, and at this point it will flick open its wings twice in succession, showing its eye-spots for around a second each time, then hunker down and refuse to show its upper-side forewing spots again. The ones we observed settling rarely stayed put for more than five or six seconds after the two flashes, before taking to the wing once more, invariably disappearing at some point shortly after with a sudden manic spurt of extra speed. This behaviour pattern may well be a defence against the numerous lizards that share the butterfly’s preferred habitat. I consider myself very lucky to have managed to get this single underside photograph after hours of failure!
Nothing else was flying at the African Ringlet site so in the afternoon we moved on to a coastal location where I hoped to find Little Tiger Blues, but again, the vegetation was burnt, the conditions arid, and very few butterflies were seen. We did find a few more African Grass Blues, one Common Blue and one Long-tailed Blue, and then we moved about 100 metres inland onto a rough bit of semi-agricultural land with some wild patches, where a few nectar sources were somehow surviving in the desert-like conditions. Here we saw a single Pygmy Skipper, shortly followed by a single Mallow Skipper, and a solitary Swallowtail (the Cyprus ones are of the subspecies P.machaon syriacus).
Suddenly a copper appeared – it looked like a Small Copper, but I wasn’t taking any chances on that, and somehow managed to keep track of it as it zig-zagged around at high speed for over a minute before finally alighting. Going in with my camera I was thrilled to find that it was actually a female Lesser Fiery Copper – another lifer for me! Great stuff! It would prove to be the only one we saw all week.
On our drive back towards the hotel we stopped by some roadside shrubs that were alive with butterflies. These all turned out to be Lang’s Short-tailed Blues and they were courting, nectaring, and egg-laying in large numbers, all hyperactive in the heat.
Tuesday 28th September
Today we drove south to Akrotiri and spent some time searching for Small Desert Blues around the coast. Once again, the vegetation was largely desiccated, and the only blue to be found was the seemingly ubiquitous African Grass Blue. Next, we headed to Akrotiri Marsh, a wetland site well-known for its birdlife, but also a known site for Millet Skipper, another target species. It was supposed to be common here, according to my research, particularly at this time of the year, but we struggled to find any. At last, my wife spotted one flying low along the edge of some reeds. It was a tatty, faded specimen. A further hour of searching yielded just one other example, but it was camera-shy. After a diversion into Lemassos for some lunch, I persuaded my wife that we should head back for one last attempt at getting a decent photo. As I walked to the edge of a large stand of reeds, a much fresher Millet Skipper alighted right in front of me and posed politely for a couple of minutes. Happy days! These were the only Millet Skippers that we found during our time in Cyprus.
Wednesday 29th September
We had been eating very well at our hotel – the food greatly exceeded our expectations from this relatively cheap three star all-inclusive deal – and the wine was also just the right side of drinkable. The heat meant that doing much in the way of strenuous activity was out of the question, and with due regard to our calorie intake, today we decided to drive inland, gain some altitude, and see if the temperatures were lower up in the Troodos mountains. We needed a good walk. I had programmed the Sat Nav with a few choice locations prior to leaving the UK, and duly loaded up the co-ordinates for Xyliatos. Mrs. Nav said it would take 2 hours and 14 minutes to get there. Off we went, motorway right around the coast, then inland from Larnaca towards Lefkosia, before turning off and climbing up towards Xyliatos. We parked up near a picnic site near the Xyliatos dam, and did plenty of walking. Was it cooler? Well, it had dropped from a balmy 30 degrees on the coast, to a nippy 29 degrees at 500 metres above sea level!
Apparently we were in a good area for Grass Jewel, my second “most-wanted” target species for this week. But we weren’t seeing any. On the plus side, there were plenty of “Graylings” flying around. These were of course the endemic Cyprus Grayling, my fourth life-tick of the holiday, which was rapidly followed by a fifth in the form of another endemic, the Cyprus Meadow Brown. Tremendous stuff!
We climbed up and down hillsides and along roads for a further three hours, then, out of nowhere, I spotted the tiniest of butterflies flying along a verge. It landed right in front of me and I immediately went in with my camera, trying to find it. It was incredibly small, but when I finally had it in focus, it was indeed the beautiful Grass Jewel, the first I had ever seen despite searching in vain in many parts of Greece over the years. It too would turn out to be the only one we found all week, an incredible moment of great good fortune!
Before we left Xyliatos, cloud was building over the Troodos range and we heard a few rumbles of thunder in the distance. Mrs.Nav, in her infinite wisdom, routed us back to the hotel through the middle of the Troodos, and as the skies darkened we drove through a storm of biblical proportions and intensity. The roads turned to rivers, rocks fell from the hillsides, and I am pretty sure there may even have been the occasional frog falling from the heavens. The drive home was a blend of great fun and mild terror, punctuated with occasional episodes of aquaplaning interspersed with flashing thoughts of premature death…
A big celebration was had that night over yet more delicious food and copious wine, to commemorate three lifers in one day, a rare event in these times.
Thursday 30th September / Friday 1st October
We revisited the African Ringlet site again on both of the mornings of our last two full days in Cyprus, in a fruitless effort to get some upper-side photographs. We also walked along the dramatic Avakas Gorge, where more Cyprus Meadow Browns were on the wing. A few more touristy activities filled our remaining hours, and we headed home late on the Saturday, arriving back in Blighty in the early hours of Sunday morning. The drive back got us home at 04:00 hours.
So, in conclusion, Cyprus was very sparse in butterfly action this year at the end of September and I had to work hard (and enjoy a good dose of luck) to come away with 6 life-ticks, but the whole experience was fantastic, and a great antidote to the prolonged European Butterfly Withdrawal Syndrome syndromes. At the moment I am pleased to report that I am symptom-free!
The African Ringlets and Grass Jewel were the undoubted highlights, although the other lifers were also a delight to see. Would I go back to Cyprus? Well, it is very populous and touristy compared to our usual more rural, off-the-beaten-track destinations in France, Spain and Greece, almost urban in fact in many parts, but it isn’t without its charms. If I returned I would probably favour a spring trip when the landscape isn’t quite so scorched off, and I still need an open wing shot of the African Ringlet, so maybe in a few years an April trip could be on the cards. There is of course the Paphos Blue to catch up with also, and several other interesting species to be found out there. But for now I shall bask in the afterglow of last week in the very warm Cypriot sunshine and dream of next year’s European adventures with optimism…
