Thrust up, pressed down...

The Troodos mountains in Western Cyprus are the result of a section of ocean floor adhering to a continental plate instead of sliding underneath as they usually do. Afterwards pressure from below pushed the lower layers of magma up through the upper ones. The result is that rock strata normally stacked vertically deep below the sea bed are here laid out in horizontal slices, 5-6000 feet up. The sense of strangeness given by being surrounded all day by rocks never normally seen outside museums, often dull at first sight but then glinting with metals and crystal, is accentuated by the twisted shapes of pine and juniper, clinging improbably to the bare rock, distorted and flattened by the sheer weight of winter snow. Over much of the area the only other vegetation consists of small alyssums and sedums, although other species sometimes appear, presumably as the rocks change.

It made a terrific day's walking, circling the top of the mountain at around 6000 feet (it's called Olympus of course, but capped prosaically by a scruffy ski club and the fibre glass dome covering an RAF observation post). It was two hours before I saw anyone. No animals either, except for birds (and in one stretch millions of shield bugs). There were signs of hunting, though.