Early on the morning of the 25th of April, I bade adieu to Nikosia, the capital of Cyprus—a fair city even in these days of her ruin and decay. As I look back at her, as she appeared to me, I always find myself comparing the image with that of a stately and beautiful dame over whose faded charms, faint and occasional flashes of former loveliness are now and then visible. The day was glorious as I left the dark city gates and stepped forth upon the bright and boundless plains; cornfields extended to the feet of the long chain of mountains, which glowed with deepest purple in the foreground, and towered black and shadowy in the far distance; whilst straight before me, from behind the dark, cloud-like masses, peeped the snowy head of Mount Olympus. This name “Olymp,” which is conferred in almost every Grecian island upon the noblest snow-capped mountains, has the same signification as our word “Alp.” I had determined to ascend the Cyprian Olympus, and to this end had made many inquiries concerning it. Had I desired information about some unknown and unexplored region, the few particulars I gained could not have been more vague and trifling. I could meet with no one who had ever made the ascent of Troados, as the mountain is now called, or even learn whether the monastery of Troaditissa was situated on its summit or lay below in one of the neighbouring valleys. The Cypriotes love their ease too well to undertake these kind of excursions, and only ridicule what they consider such unnecessary exertion on the part of the traveller. Our party had not ridden more than a mile and a half before cultivation ceased, and on all sides nothing was visible but a dry and barren waste. On this occasion I travelled over about fifteen leagues of country, and did not see more than two or three small villages in the whole distance. One of these was built upon a stream which certainly must contain water enough to irrigate the neighbouring fields and gardens during the winter and spring, yet all the dwellings were in ruins, and no plough had turned the pastures for certainly ten or twenty years.