The Küçük Erenköy tunnel – a 70m naturally-formed tunnel in the northern foothills of the Kyrenia Mountains. It’s part of a 6km walking trail through beautiful countryside. But stuff the walking. I just needed to find the tunnel before Goobie realised what we were doing . . .

So here’s the thing. I love ruins and subterranean places – tunnels, caves, tombs, underground churches etc. And just as much as I love finding these places, Goobie loves hating them.

‘For god’s sake, Mummy, not another cave!’

‘Seriously? Another tomb?’

‘I really enjoyed that ruin. Not.’

There’s a certain amount of bullshitting going on here. He doesn’t look like he’s suffering too much as he excitedly explores ruins or searches for bats in caves. But I get that it feels good to disagree with your parents and assert your own opinions. In fact, it’s healthy for the development of his self-identity – though in a less arsey way, please.

So, for the sake of Goobie’s psychological, emotional and whateveral development, I like to give him opportunities to moan.

But I just couldn’t face it as we started a leisurely drive through the Kyrenia Mountains while Herc had his nap. Things were so beautiful and peaceful.

I kept our destination a secret.

We were on an Easter mini-break in north Cyprus. We’ve visited all the obvious tourist sights around Kyrenia many times, so we wanted to enrich our experience of the area by going off the beaten track. The previous day we’d found the Forgotten Fourth Fortress in the western part of the Kyrenia Mountains. Today we wanted to explore the eastern stretch. Matt can’t stand driving aimlessly around and so the Küçük Erenköy tunnel was to be our eventual destination.

We were staying in Karsiyaka at the far western end of the mountains. By the time we reached the roads near Buffavento Castle, Herc was awake and we were all hungry. We stopped at a large picnic site north of Taşkent village (Greek name Vouno) to have lunch. There’s an old monastery next to the picnic site called Panagia Absinthiotissa Monastery. We didn’t have time to go in but the views would have been brilliant if it wasn’t for the dust cloud sitting over the Mesaoria plain that day. Instead Goobie and Herc stretched their legs in one of the playgrounds there.

I didn’t fancy reliving the terror of the Buffavento terror road, so we drove south down the mountain and east along the road at the bottom. Somehow we ended up lost in a quarry. How do you even do that??

We found our way back onto the eastern road and followed it back up into the mountains. We drove through pine forests, glimpsing people having barbecues in wooded picnic sites. High rocky peaks soared overhead with trees clinging to them in impossible places.

We reached the junction near Alevkaya that took us to Sourp Magar Monastery last year, but instead of turning west to the monastery, we followed the eastern road that wound down towards Esentepe, a village on the northern slopes of the mountain (Greek name Agios Amvrosios). Before you reach the village, there’s a turn-off to Agios Antiphonitis, a church with impressive frescoes on its walls. Unfortunately, zero members of my family were interested in seeing it.

Instead, we stretched our legs wandering around some old ruins just by the coastal road at the bottom of Esentepe. What are these? An old carob warehouse?

We always underestimate how long it takes to get anywhere in the mountains. It was mid afternoon by the time we set off along the northern coastal road for Küçük Erenköy. We should really have headed back to our hotel in time for dinner.

But there was a 70m tunnel out there and we were so close to finding it.

We were also very close to the witching hour. This is the hour or so before dinnertime when both children can turn into raging hell hounds. Or shits as it’s more commonly known.

But we had loads of snacks with us, so we kept on. It was just vital that Goobie didn’t know we were on our way to somewhere subterranean, otherwise witching hour + tunnels = ATTITUDE.

I quietly checked the map to see where the circular Küçük Erenköy tunnel walk began. We were told to stop in a car park next to the Şinya Guest House, which you get to before reaching the village. Within minutes I spotted it and we pulled over.

There is a map of the walk in the car park, but it isn’t very detailed. Your best bet is to pick up the ‘Kyrenia East Walking Trails’ brochure from a Tourist Information Office on the north side of the island. It contains more detailed directions for the walk. I got ours from the brilliant Tourist Information Office in Famagusta’s Old Town. I kept hold of it for years hoping to find the opportunity to do the tunnel walk.

It had gone 4pm and there was no time to walk the whole 6km trail, much as I’d have liked to. It looks like an easy, pretty walk through woods and into ravines. We studied the map to figure out the quickest route to the tunnel.

We figured it would be quicker to reach the tunnel by starting the walking trail from the opposite direction. To our relief we saw that much of this was along a driveable track. We could drive to point 17 on the map and then walk from 17 to 15. It looked like we’d only need to walk 10 minutes before reaching the tunnel.

Easy.

Not, as it turned out.

We drove through a modern housing estate and then followed the track bearing slightly left. This took us through fields to point 17.

At point 17 we got out of the car and followed the track as it began to wind uphill towards point 16.

Goobie began to get suspicious. I think I must get a certain look on my face when I’m searching for subterranean places. Perhaps a slightly demented fire in my eyes. Goobie misses nothing.

‘We’re just going on a little walk,’ we told him nonchalantly. ‘We’ve been in the car a lot today and we need to stretch our legs.’

We then started our nature walk game. Seriously, this game has brought Goobie back from the brink of all-out arseholery too many times to count. It’s very simple. You get points for things you see on the walk. A lizard is 10, a butterfly is 2 (though 3 when Goobie sees them, the cheat), an unusual bird is 15. Snakes are 50, except a blunt-nosed viper, which is 100. An archaeological find is 500. Etc, etc.

Goobie usually wins, except on the previous day when Herc apparently made three archaeological finds – if you can call an old bit of terracotta an archaeological find.

Matt always loses. Even when he spots a snake.

Like I said, Goobie’s a cheat. But the game works, so nobody cares.

We reached point 16 easily and quickly. And then Matt and I experienced  simultaneous brain malfunctions. We just couldn’t understand the map from point 16 to 15, despite it looking ridiculously straightforward. Doing the walk in the opposite direction had caused some sort of neural short circuit. We continued onwards and upwards, following the track further into the mountains.

After 20 minutes I had a nagging feeling we were going the wrong way. We should have reached the tunnel ages ago. We studied the map, not comprehending where we’d gone wrong.

It was the brown and red trails that confused us. Matt’s brain came back online before mine and he realised that we were on a brown trail when we should have been on a red one. We should have turned off to the right somewhere.

We walked almost all the way back down the hill before we spotted an overgrown path disappearing into the trees.

‘That’s the right way!’ I shrieked.

‘Mummy, you’re not looking for a cave are you?’

‘Absolutely not,’ I said, absolutely truthfully.

We walked through the trees and reached a small ravine. The path took us down the side towards a tiny stream. ‘Follow the water course’ the map said. Ha! What it meant was try to skirt the steep side of the ravine or walk through the stream. Goobie chose the latter.

I walked ahead along the edge of the stream. And then I saw it. The large, dark, gaping mouth of the tunnel.

‘1000 points for the first person to spot a tunnel.’ I shouted back to Goobie. ‘Ooo, look at that! A tunnel!!’

‘For god’s sake, Mummy!’

But I could see he was impressed.

I peaked inside the tunnel, excited but a bit spooked too. The brochure said you didn’t need a torch, but the tunnel was darker and bendier than I’d imagined.

I was too scared to go in.

In the end, Matt saved the day.

‘Come on,’ he said cheerfully and walked straight in – into the darkness. With Herc in the sling. Goobie followed.

‘What??!! But it might not be safe. It might collapse on our heads!!!’

‘It’s all fine,’ came back the reply.

I dashed in after them, desperate to get the experience over with so that I could get on with enjoying the memory.

‘Shh! Shh! We have to be quiet or we’ll bring down the roof!’ I kept saying maniacally. Though I was the only one making any noise.

The tunnel climbed upwards and then we saw daylight ahead, around a corner. Thank god!

I raced towards the light, climbing over a mound of earth on the floor and towards the exit, the loud buzzing of flies in our ears. My legs felt like jelly.

I looked back and realised that the mound of earth I’d climbed over had been part of the collapsed roof. My fears hadn’t been quite so stupid after all. Visions of us trapped in the tunnel entered my mind. It was getting late and literally no one knew we were here. There was no phone signal and, judging by the lack of footprints on the ground, no one had been here for a while.

I legged it back through the tunnel in a panic, whispering ‘Quick, quick!!’ as loudly as I dared.

Matt followed slowly and smugly behind.

It’s a mystery to me why sometimes I love and fear subterranean places in equal measures. Am I just being sensibly cautious or an utter wuss? Whichever, I was a bit embarrassed.

Once we were out of the tunnel and heading back to the car, I felt the upside of all that fear – the adrenaline rush. Maybe that’s really why I love subterranean places so much.

I can now relish the memory of the Küçük Erenköy tunnel in the safety of my own living room. For a natural tunnel, it was bigger and longer than I’d imagined. Impressive. And Goobie liked it too.

If you decide to visit it, go earlier in the day and give yourselves time to do the 6km walk. Time to savour the smells and colours of the spring countryside. The time of year when Cyprus is at its most beautiful.