The snow, which, unluckily for me, was thawing, formed frequent streams of water, which rendered my footing so insecure that I sank many times up to my knees. The higher portion of the ascent was worst of all; again and again, after hard climbing, I found myself slipping back, some twenty paces at a time. The rocks became steeper, and the snow being lightly frozen over, and very slippery, my only chance was by patiently persevering and slowly mounting step by step, digging my stick deep, and planting my feet firmly, as I passed from one spot to another, all the time following a zigzag direction, and experiencing all those various sensations of hope and despair, inseparable from this kind of exertion. Alpine travellers alone can appreciate the enthusiasm that filled my heart, as I inhaled deep draughts of ozone and gazed upon the scene beneath me. The landscape was one of the grandest upon earth, and quite peculiar in its characteristics.
Cyprus, the third largest island in the Mediterranean, looked from this point of view like a green and lovely gem, washed by the blue waves of the surrounding sea, which met the horizon on every side. Towards the north-east the dazzling range of Taurus is distinctly visible, extending along the Cilician coast towards Kurdistan, and opposite on the south-east the dark purple heights of Lebanon. Upon the summit of Olympus one stands high above every other object in the island, and looks down upon miles of varied and enchanting country.
The peculiarity of this landscape, is the strong contrast offered by its principal features: the blue sea, the snowy mountains, and the island itself; whilst the latter again presents three distinct features, the dark mountains covering the western half of the country, the long chain of hills traversing the Carpasian peninsula, and between these the brown and golden tinted plains. Only once in my life could I hope to gaze upon a scene of such magnificent beauty. The highest point of the mountain which was entirely free from snow, is divided into three peaks closely resembling each other in appearance. The centre one of these, according to my own measurement, was 6160 feet (instead of 7000 feet) above the level of the sea. Unger makes this peak only 5897 feet high, according to the map contained in his work on Cyprus. It is true I had only my little aneroid to go by, but it has never to my knowledge failed me yet.