The Slime-High Club

I love airports. They’re that special gateway to foreign lands, a great reunion venue for families and lovers, and great for stories. When it comes to the Cyprus airport, the most fascinating part must be the customs area.

Here’s what you need to understand about Greeks and Cypriots, whether they are coming or going from their motherland…they love their food. No really, they looove their food and even though they may have spent their entire vacation stuffing their faces, they want to take as much as possible with them and of course, they’ll never be forgiven if they don’t share their bounty with the folks at their destination. So suitcases are packed, not with clothes or souvenirs, but with cheese and nuts and the best olive oil on earth. I was once given a full tray of baklava to take with me…where am I supposed to put an open tray of sticky, syrupy pastries?! You would also think that this would be a problem with security, but in Cyprus, it aint the first baklava that’s crossed their path.

And while you protest to relatives as they pack your suitcase with stuffed vineleaves (koupepia/dolmades) and legs of lamb (true story), telling them that you can buy food in your own country, they automatically reply “it’s not the same!” I don’t know if it’s the brainwashing, but I suppose I agree.

Anyway, I don’t know if the airport authorities have given up, but to my knowledge, no-one has ever been stopped and all these delicacies reach the mouths of happy relatives on the other side.

I have to give special mention though to the ultimate smuggler. My friend’s Yiayia (Grandmother). Picture it: a frail little old lady, clad in black from head to toe, with a scarf over her hair and wearing a big, cozy jacket with big, spacious pockets. She hobbles along with the aid of her wooden cane. She slips through the metal detectors without so much as a beep. She smiles sweetly at the security officers. She shuffles along to certain victory as she makes it on the plane with none the wiser. Escobar has nothing on her.

A couple of hours into the flight and Yiayia is fast asleep. I was nodding off myself when a strange object caught my eye. It was blurry at first but it slowly came into focus as it inched towards me along the window…and there, thousands of miles up in the sky, streaking across the airplane window and leaving a slimy trail behind it, was a genuine Cyprus Snail!

I rubbed my eyes and noticed that he wasn’t alone. I looked around and all along the side and ceiling of our cabin were snails ‘fleeing’ for freedom. You see, Cypriot Snails are another delicacy, but you have to cook them alive (sorry all animal lovers), so Yiayia had stuffed her pockets with LIVE snails! But when she fell asleep, they escaped!

Yes, the Cyprus Airport is a fun place.

(I was forced to become a collaborator by plucking the slimy bastards off the window and shoving them back in Yiayia’s pockets before anyone noticed. Those who did notice, were also Cypriot. They barely flinched. They understood.)