We had been waiting for this trip for two years. Our friends Harry and Shannon had invited us to attend their wedding in Cyprus, and since I was hitting the milestone of my 50th birthday in this year, 2026, Clare and I decided to make a proper celebration of it—head out to the sun, celebrate the birthday, and watch them tie the knot.

In the months leading up, our preparation was incredibly thorough, largely inspired by the regular video uploads from a YouTuber named Dominic over at Paphos Life. Since moving out there in 2016, he’s been documenting the island with drone footage, daily drives, and what he calls "walkie-talkies." Watching his videos, I became fascinated by why people fall so deeply in love with Cyprus. I wanted to understand that expat pull—and, of course, I wanted to capture it through my lens.

Retro Intentions and Chaos at Stansted

Lately, turning 50 has triggered a bit of a retro revival for me. I’ve been buying secondhand hi-fis (except for the speakers, I have my limits) and getting back into analog habits. My lovely daughter, Grace, gave me a Filofax for my Birthday, and I decided to ditch digital tracking for this trip. I wanted to get back into creative writing, carry a notebook in my Everyday Carry (EDC) kit bag, sit early in the morning with a coffee, and physically write down my feelings, data points—weather, cloud cover, my mood—and sketches of photographic frames.

But as any photographer knows, even the best-laid plans meet reality.

The travel day was, to put it mildly, a "skin of your teeth" production. Seeking to avoid waking up Lainey, our Cockapoo, we crept downstairs in the dark. Misfortune struck immediately: Clare managed to break the tip of her freshly done wedding nail while putting on her shoes. After some emergency surgical taping, we hit the local services in Sawtry for a coffee and a cinnamon bun, only to discover the M11 was entirely closed.

A massive, stressful diversion through Cambridge and up the A11 left us running dangerously late for Stansted.

When we finally reached the long-stay car park, the universe tested me further. Reaching out the window for the barrier ticket, the car unexpectedly stalled and refused to reset. The barrier was up, I was trapped thinking it would crash down any second, and my stress levels were climbing. 

The car park itself was a bureaucratic puzzle of manual signs and cones. We accidentally entered a closed zone, unloaded all our heavy gear, walked to the bus stop, and read a sign saying: If you park here, re-park your car.

Panicked, we threw everything back in, drove around, and I literally screeched to a halt when I spotted a parking attendant in a high-vis jacket. "Mate, we can't find anywhere to park!" I yelled. "Go back to Yellow A, it's just opened," he replied.

We found a space, unloaded again, and just as we neared the bus stop, my heart dropped. I had forgotten my wallet. Because our morning routine had been broken to avoid waking the dog, I hadn't picked it up from the sideboard. Clare gave me the look and sent me back to the car to check, but I knew it wasn't there.

If Clare hadn't booked fast-track security passes, we would have missed the plane entirely. We steamed through security, running on adrenaline and half a cinnamon bun each, and found Harry and Shannon at the open gate with just 15 to 20 minutes to spare. Clare managed to grab a pack of Cheddars for the flight—they tasted absolutely disgusting, but they were life-savers.

Landing in the Light

I’m not the best flyer. A sketchy Aeroflot flight into Moscow years ago permanently rattled my nerves, and flying from Atlanta to Memphis during a storm on what felt like a "flying bus" didn't help. But the flight to Cyprus was smooth, and the moment our shoes hit the tarmac and that wave of Mediterranean heat hit us, the airport chaos evaporated. You just get that instant feeling of being on holiday. It was awesome.

One of the great things about Paphos is how familiar it feels to a British traveler. The infrastructure is similar, they drive on the left, and it has a thriving, welcoming vibe. Armed with confidence from our YouTube research, we navigated the local buses easily. We missed our stop once, but caught the next one right back to the Tomb of the Kings station.

It was during a morning bus ride on my Birthday that my phone started buzzing incessantly. I hadn't bought a travel E-SIM because I genuinely wanted to disconnect from data and stick to hotel Wi-Fi. It turned out my phone had automatically connected to Eduroam. In my day job, I’m an IT Manager for the Isaac Newton Institute for Mathematical Sciences and have worked for the university for 26 years. Paphos, remarkably, has 33 Eduroam locations. Thanks to that accidental network connection, we were able to FaceTime Grace and Jacob right from the bus so they could wish me a happy 50th birthday. That accidental Eduroam access proved a literal lifeline, allowing me to fire off a quick message to Tyler. I had to make sure he was keeping Lainey fed and, crucially, staying hydrated himself, as the UK was suffering through that brutal first heatwave of 2026. Anyway, after that, we had a brilliant wander down by the Harbour and stopped at Theo's for a drink in the sunshine.

A Milestone Birthday at The Windmill

For the big 50th dinner, Clare booked a reservation at The Windmill, one of the oldest restaurants in Paphos. It was, without understatement, one of the best days of my life and definitely the greatest birthday celebration I could have asked for.

I actually ended up writing a glowing review on Google Maps when we got back, and looking back at what I wrote, it perfectly sums up the magic of that evening:

"The ambiance was lovely, and we were made to feel like absolute family from the moment we walked in. We sat out on the beautiful veranda, joined by a local Cypriot cat who decided to keep us company, while swallows darted in and out of the nests up in the eaves. The food was spectacular, but the highlight was when they brought out a piece of cake with a candle and sang happy birthday. Of course, it was that classic moment where people sing along beautifully until they get to your name and realise they don't actually know it, leaving a polite, funny blank space for Clare to fill in!"

The warmth and hospitality of the staff there, combined with just having that quiet space to breathe and be with Clare, made it an unforgettable experience. I only took one photo of the meals (not included here) because I was too busy living in the moment, but the memory—and that review—is something I'll hold onto.

Hunting Lighthouses and Reportage Wedding Photography

From a creative standpoint, this trip was about setting personal photographic challenges. For this essay, I wanted to photograph the iconic Paphos Lighthouse from as many obscure, alternative angles as possible around the Archaeological Park. I'm glad to say I managed to achieve exactly what I set out to do.

I brought along my trusty SONY A6300—a brilliant, compact travel body—paired with a new SONY E PZ 18-105mm F4 G OSS lens I'd bought specifically for this trip. I was a bit apprehensive about the motorized power zoom at first, but it performed beautifully. However, trying to photograph the stunning ceiling of St. George’s Chapel right next to our hotel made me realize I desperately needed an ultra-wide lens; I’ve already got my eye on a Tamron 17-50mm for our next trip.

Then came the wedding at the Coral Bay Residence.

I was only supposed to be a guest who snapped a few pictures when the official photographers weren't actively shooting. Instead, I went into full reportage mode, building a fly-on-the-wall, candid documentary recording of their day.

The feedback has been incredible. Clare and I have been prepping a massive 174-page physical album containing 377 photos to give to the happy couple. I’ve been printing many of the images captured during our stay, including several featured here, because I prefer the physical process of tangible prints to solely sharing on social media. Social media can often feel like throwing your photos into an open hole where no one truly sees them; crafting a cohesive photo essay like this feels far more permanent and meaningful.

Stats for geeks: I shot 825 frames—the digital equivalent of 22 rolls of 36-exposure film, plus a 23rd roll with 33 frames left. So the 377 images presented in both the digital and physical albums are very much an edit down to avoid repetition!