This text is a part of a sequence known as ‘A love letter to…’, the place Biking Weekly writers pour reward on their favorite biking objects and phenomena. The under content material is unfiltered, genuine and has not been paid for.
It wasn’t the welcome drink that broke me, welcome although it was. It wasn’t the silver platter of contemporary tropical fruit that greeted us within the room, nor the groovy jazz issuing from the Roberts radio, nor even the hand-written welcome scrolls tied with dried flowers. And it definitely wasn’t the centrepiece bathtub standing proud on the foot of the huge mattress (“shouldn’t that be within the rest room?”). All nice touches, for those who like that kind of factor, however misplaced on somebody like me – or so I assumed again then, once I nonetheless knew who I used to be.
In a second of weak spot I had accepted a complimentary four-night keep at the Agora, a boutique, 18-room resort within the historic village of Pano Lefkara, within the Troodos Mountains of Cyprus – together with limitless use of a motorcycle from its distinctive rental fleet. It wasn’t that I used to be decided to withstand the resort’s charms, simply that I used to be assured of being naturally resistant to them. My tight-fisted dad was born amid post-war austerity, and his dad, my grandfather, was so imply that he banned the household from consuming eggs – regardless of the actual fact they stored chickens. A ardour for parsimony is in my blood.
I’m not a miser, however I positively get pleasure from saving cash for the issues that make an actual, materials distinction to the standard of an expertise. The Van Rysel jersey and bibs I introduced with me, as an illustration, excite me for costing £140 whereas giving freely little or no in match or operate to my ‘Sunday greatest’ Alé package (£315). For related causes, a trusty £2k bike has at all times appeared extra companionable than a £5k-plus race machine. Ironic, then, that it was an expensive bike that began to interrupt me. That is how my defences crumbled…
Agora-philia units in
CW’s David enjoys the views above Lefkara
(Picture credit score: Anton Thompson-McCormick)
After a serene breakfast – no squabbling over the buffet right here – I’m greeted within the foyer by a suave, athletic-looking 30-something man whom I assume is the resort’s biking information – and I’m not flawed, however he additionally owns the place. Aleksander Eng is a Danish entrepreneur who struck gold in his early-20s when he grew to become a significant shareholder in nascent excessive avenue chain Joe & the Juice. After promoting his shares in 2015, Aleks discovered himself with plentiful capital in addition to boundless vitality, and so threw himself into biking. Whereas on a coaching journey in Cyprus in 2018, the globetrotting novice racer stumbled upon a derelict resort on the positioning of what was as soon as the village market – and with that, the Agora dream was born.
Aleks introduces me to the bike I’ll be driving whereas I’m right here, a Issue O2 stunningly custom-painted within the resort’s white-and-terracotta colors (the discerning selection of Aleks’s companion, Emily). Our very first journey is a revelation. It’s not the £7k bike – properly, not at first – however the roads. When Aleks had described them as “well-surfaced and traffic-free”, he was not exaggerating; in 60km, we encounter two, possibly three automobiles and never a single pothole. It’s solely late-April however the solar beats down on us with an depth hardly ever felt at house, the temperature hovering into the 30s as we traverse apparently infinite, unbelievably empty mountain roads.
It isn’t lengthy earlier than I sense Aleks’s racing instincts rising with the warmth, and on the shorter ramps I’ve no reply to his playful but pinging assaults. As he belts out energy worthy of an elite puncheur, I am left waving a proverbial white flag. However on the longer, steeper climbs, I’m capable of get my very own again, tapping out a constant tempo to drive my extra powerfully constructed host deep within the purple. All of the whereas I’m falling in love with the Issue, guiltily doing the soiled alone Trek Domane languishing at house. Have been I on my bike – a full 2kg heavier than this lithesome vacation fling – there’s no method I’d be having this a lot enjoyable. It’s much less a rent bike, extra a high-class escort, rewarding each pedal stroke as if schooled within the artwork of seduction.
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Again on the resort, it’s time to chill off and come up with myself. Rehydrating by the pool with a crisp, ice-cold beer – a specifically chosen pilsner, Aleks explains, from the island’s solely microbrewery – then a Soiled Martini as a suitably decadent chaser, I’m in critical hazard of creating a style for all times’s finer issues – issues I can’t afford. Resistance proves futile when Aleks sends over a brace of Agora pizzas, that are – with out exaggeration – the very best I’ve ever eaten (and I’ve eaten lots of pizza). Even so, these post-ride treats, as delectable as they’re, usually are not what’s unmooring me from my penny-pinching roots.
It’s the roads, the heat and the bike that I don’t wish to depart behind, in addition to, I’ve to confess, the gradual accrual of small, virtually imperceptible pleasures: the peace of the poolside (it’s an adults-only resort), the tactile teak furnishings, the luxurious mattress, and even the best way the room door closes with a satisfying clunk like that of a luxurious automobile. The enchantment solely intensifies after darkish when, getting back from a mooch across the village, we discover a jazz trio taking part in beside the glowing turquoise pool, backdropped by the glinting bikes – it’s like a David Hockney portray come alive.
The bikes present the backing as a jazz trio performs by the pool
(Picture credit score: Anton Thompson-McCormick)
Over the subsequent two days, the rides solely get hotter, tougher and ever extra addictive as Aleks guides us round his favorite routes. I actually don’t wish to go house, however like all good issues, this should finish – and irrespective of how smitten I’m, it should finish with objectivity. Our keep on the Agora, had we paid for it, would have value £1,459 (£364 per evening together with breakfast – or from £139 for a smaller room), plus £36 per day to hire the bike. A fast search on-line turns up self-catering properties in Lefkara obtainable from about £70 per evening – in different phrases, you can convey your personal bike (eurgh, the faff!) and keep right here no-frills for a fraction of the fee. Objectively, then, my head says go for the price range possibility. However I’m struggling to be dispassionate, as a result of my coronary heart says the Agora gained’t be simple to go away behind.
“You may try any time you want,” the mushy rock on the taxi stereo appears tuned to my bitter-sweet ideas as we swoop down from the mountains in the direction of Larnaca airport, “however you may by no means depart”. I’d prided myself on being invulnerable to the trimmings of luxurious, however the Agora’s specific, honed-and-curated ethos – tranquil not brash, panache not flash – has seeped into my psyche. Uncomfortable although that is to admit, if I had the cash, I’d discover it exhausting to withstand splurging on a return keep. “I am not the person they suppose I’m at house,” Elton jibes me by means of the audio system. Oh no, no, no, I’m a rocketman with a newfound style for the excessive life.
