The Land of Aphrodite
A short account of some of the
reptiles and amphibia of Cyprus
between 1970 and 1973

John Skillcorn

The following article was originally published in the magazine Aquarist and Pondkeeper in September 1989.

When spring arrives in Cyprus, it is no half-hearted affair.  Almost overnight, it seems, a blanket of flowers of all colours, shapes and sizes begins to cover the whole island.  The rain of winter (if there is such a thing in this idyllic land) slowly disappears, giving rise to luminous skies of a blue which can hardly be imagined, and which is only emulated by the brilliant turquoise of the crystal waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

The heat of the sun, although manifest even during winter days, begins to scorch the Cyprian landscape, creating a heat-haze that shimmers in the distance, while the land is slowly desiccated to a crisp golden brown.  It is in this setting that we see the first awakening of the reptile life that is so abundant and varied on this now much-favoured holiday island.

I am one of those irksome Englishmen who delight in being able to say that I was there before it all became spoilt by the hordes of tourists that now seem to cover every square foot of potential get-away-from-it-all places.  So it was, then, that I landed on the pristine island of Cyprus, serving Queen and country, while trying my best not to get sucked into the air-intakes of the Lightning fighters and Vulcan bombers on which I was working, on R.A.F. Akrotiri.  Seeing what happens to dickybirds is enough to make you value your own life in a most appreciative way.

"Unintentional" Nature Reserve
Akrotiri is situated on the peninsula to the extreme south of the island, and the air base occupies almost all of this area, being all but cut off completely by two large salt lakes.  Every winter, these are visited by huge flocks of the pinkest flamingos.  Furthermore, Akrotiri is an unintentional prime nature reserve.  Because admittance is strictly controlled for obvious reasons, all sorts of animal and plant life flourish, protected completely from the interference of man.
However, many of the species of reptiles I saw on the peninsula could also be found in most of the areas of the port of Limassol, occurring in gardens, in the streets and even in the houses.  What, then, may the tourist expect to see in the way of these animals during a flying visit to this lovely place?

Chitchats
I reckon that most people would remember the geckos more than any other, as they are abundant, obvious and amazingly vocal for such small animals.  Geckos are lizards, often small, and many not only run up walls with alarming speed, but also have the bizarre ability to run across windowpanes and ceilings.  Lampposts often have a group of these goggle-eyed acrobats sitting high up in the lamplight during the warm summer evenings, waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting moths and other insects that blunder into the lights at night.

They were commonly called Chitchats, because of the noise they make when defending territories.  By making tutting noises, I was able to encourage them to descend their lampposts, inch by inch, until they were only a foot or so away from me.  This delighted me, kept the geckos out of mischief for a minute or two, and caused passers-by to cross over the road, perhaps thinking that they would be next for my attentions.

These lizards also enter houses to prey on insects that are attracted to the lights at night, and provided me with much entertainment while having a shower after nightshift.  This species was Hemidactylus turcicus, the Turkish Gecko, which possesses the typical adhesive pads on parts of the digits, enabling them to do the acrobatics that I have summarised above.

Some years ago I kept a small colony of these in a vivarium in my school laboratory, until some helpful pupil removed the screws of the air-grill.  Needless to say, the animals needed no further encouragement to make their getaway.  The colony is still in existence, and my teaching successor continues to report sightings occasionally.  Escapees of fruit flies from genetics experiments, and other insects kept in continuous culture, keep them well fed, and they have access to an outside south wall through ventilators.

A second species, Cyrtodactylus kotschyi, (shown above) is common.  It lacks adhesive toe-pads and is found at ground level, usually underneath rocks, although it may be seen out sunbathing early in the morning.

Spectacular Lizards

The largest lizard I encountered was the Agama, Agama stellio.  I have seen this spectacular lizard in two types of habitats - rocky coastlines with cliffs, and colonies living in old olive trees on the way up Troodos, the mountainous area of the island.  There, they run across the road when you least expect it, leaving you speculating as to whether it was a rat or just the searing heat playing tricks with your eyes.

One I used to see regularly lived in an abandoned brick shelter on the RAF base, squeezing itself through holes in the bricks, just when I thought I had it cornered at last.  Sneaky old devil - but it did come to accept my offerings of grasshoppers and locusts, which I threw to it occasionally.

Next in size to the Agama was the Common Chameleon, Chamaeleo chamaeleon, a surprisingly frequently-encountered animal, although you could never find them when you were actually looking for them.  They most often found you, when suddenly you would realise that you were being watched in a most curious fashion.

I usually discovered them in the yellow-flowered Mimosa bushes, but I do remember finding one crossing a road once, looking behind itself cautiously.  Most people I knew had seen them from time to time, so I presumed that they are common enough.

Snakes were there in abundance, but, unfortunately I got good views of only a very few.  One very special one was the species Typhlops vermicularis.  A friend had unearthed this one as he was digging his garden, luckily with a fork!

This strange reptile looks rather like a large earthworm, pink in colour with a very smooth, very shiny skin.  This one was about a foot long and thin as a pencil.  It had no easily definable head, but its little tongue kept popping out to show you that was the front.  Various other snakes were brought to me now and again, but as I lacked good reference books on this subject, I tended to treat them all with great respect, and after a cursory  examination released them promptly back to the wild.  I saw snakes up to about four feet in length, but they remained shy and retiring creatures.

Elusive amphibians
The only species of amphibian I personally encountered was the Green Toad, Bufo viridis, which tended to materialise in the most unexpected places.  Very attractive creatures, they afforded me endless hours of amusement as they sat waiting for the many insects that creep around after dark.

While walking through the orange groves at night, one could hear the deafening calls of tree frogs, although search as I might, I never actually found any, although friends assured me that they had seen them, and described them as typical Kermits and in great detail.  The calls were identical to those I have heard uttered from my own Hyla arborea, so perhaps they are the same, or a very closely related species.

Two species of skink were common.  One was the diminutive Ablepharus kitaibelii, rather like a miniature British slowworm but with puny legs and fixed eyelids.  They were often encountered underneath rocks in dry places.  The other was much bigger, a species of Chalcides, probably C. ocellatus  (shown left), which could often be seen sunbathing in even the strongest sunshine.  The smaller species, together with the multitude of tiny baby lacertids (lizard-like animals) have been observed being preyed upon by the larger species of praying mantids that also abound on the island.

My time in Cyprus was richly rewarding and I would certainly recommend a visit to the island to anyone who would like to see a wide range of beautiful reptiles and amphibians at close hand...  plus a great deal more besides.