The Blue Lagoon on the Akamas Peninsula – beautiful and remote, with cool, clear waters. Our first visit in 2015 remains one of my happiest memories on the island. But it’s an arse to get to. And after years of persuading Matt to drive along terrifying tracks that I won’t drive myself, he was about to get his ultimate revenge!

This is how sensible people get to the Blue Lagoon:

You can get one of numerous cruise boats from Latchi harbour that will take you on a relaxed trip along the coast to the Blue Lagoon. They cost around €20 for adults and €10 for under 12s. You can climb off the boat at the Blue Lagoon for a leisurely hour-long swim and you are then taken back to Latchi, sipping your free glass of wine as you go. Simple.

This is how we got to the Blue Lagoon:

No, Goobie didn’t walk the whole way. This was the part where he got out of the Land Rover to walk because the dust track we were driving down was so steep I thought the car would do a roly-poly, bonnet first.

You can drive to the Blue Lagoon a number of ways. On our first visit we drove along the coast road from Latchi to the Baths of Aphrodite. At the baths, the road turns into the Road from Hell – a road you are advised not to drive along because it’s so dangerous. It’s on the edge of the cliff and when you take the boat to the Blue Lagoon you can see that the cliff has eroded beneath it. At some point the track will crumble into the sea.

Matt still has flashbacks to the time we met an oncoming vehicle on this track and came very close to plunging over the edge. Never again, he vowed.

But we didn’t want to get the boat to the Blue Lagoon because of Herc. At nine months old, I didn’t want to take him swimming in water out of my depth, which we’d have to do when we climbed off the boat into the sea.

‘Why don’t we try a different route?’ said Matt.

Ha!

I drove while he navigated us through Neo Chorio, a village west of Latchi. Drive through the village and you eventually reach Smigies Picnic Site. There’s a walking trail that starts here and joins up with the Adonis trail that we walked earlier in the year.

The road becomes a dusty track at Smigies which takes you onto the Akamas Peninsula. Matt’s plan was to drive to the Blue Lagoon from the opposite side of the Akamas. The sat nav said it would take 50 minutes to drive 10km.

50 minutes to drive 10km? I thought. I could run most of the way in that time.

I put my foot down, confident that, with my driving, there was no way it would take 50 minutes.

At first, Matt’s idea seemed brilliant. A solution to the Road from Hell near-death experiences. The track was fairly smooth and gently wound up around the western contours of the Akamas. We got a great view of the west coast and Lara Bay.

There were a few steep hairpin bends but, I thought pragmatically, there are plenty of trees to catch us should we fall. No sheer drops. I felt well empowered.

See? I thought, casting a glance at Matt out of the corner of my eye, I can drive these kinds of tracks too.

Not a panic attack in sight.

We drove on and could see Mouti tis Sotiras in the distance. We reached some crossroads with painfully helpful signposts, but I followed my nose, confident and sure.

The track snaked uphill, growing a little more uneven.

‘Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy!’ I sang as I drove over the rocks in the road. My head grazed the sagging upholstery of the roof each time my bum left the seat.

‘Stop it, head!’ I heard Goobie say in the back. ‘Mummy!’ he shouted. ‘I keep telling my head to stop rolling around but it won’t listen.’

It was fun. A few quad bikes bombed past us, kicking up clouds of dust. And I thought, who needs a quad bike when you have the king of all Land Rovers? A 15-year-old Freelander with 100,000+ miles on the clock, a dodgy driver’s door, scrapes along its sides from where I’d misjudged the driveway wall and the fossilised remnants of a salami sandwich under the car mat. But, much like a well-loved threadbare teddy, this is what brings a car to life. Not necessarily the engine.

The red engine malfunction icon had been flashing on the dashboard for a couple of months now.

And the fact that the Land Rover’s four-wheel-drive doofa was sitting in the garage and no longer attached to it was neither here nor there.

We were going strong.

And then we reached the brow of a hill. In the distance we caught a glimpse of the Blue Lagoon sparkling invitingly below.

It was at this point that I realised I’d been tricked.

Having lulled me into a false sense of security, the track decided to nosedive at a ridiculously steep angle over the other side of the hill.

Legs like jelly, I drove the Land Rover down the steep track at 1kph. It was dusty and bumpy and only my pride stopped me from getting Matt to drive instead. I took the Land Rover gently over a large rocky step, expecting us to tip over at any second. Terrifying.

But we made it to the bottom of the slope with all four wheels on the ground.

I then realised that in front of us the slope went back up again almost as steeply. A cold sweat washed over me as I realised that without the 4WD doofa the Land Rover might not be able to climb this slope.

And if it couldn’t drive up this slope, we couldn’t go back because the slope we’d just come down was steeper. I started to panic.

‘What is the point of having a slope that goes down just for it to go back up again?!’ I said, rationally.

‘And why is the 4WD thing in the garage and not on the actual car doing its 4WD thing?? I raged.

‘Just put your foot down,’ said Matt in a maddeningly calm voice.

I put my foot down and the Land Rover leapt forward, engine roaring as we slowly crept upwards. I tried not to think about the engine malfunction icon that was shining red on the dashboard. After all, I’d ignored it for the last two months.

Unbelievably, we made it to the top of the slope. Like I said, King of Land Rovers! It’s never let us down.

Over the top of that hill, Bastard-Track took an even steeper plummet down the other side, curving like a big malicious bastard-grin. Tipping over onto our side was the least of my fears. I thought we might roll bonnet-over-car-arse all the way down to the bottom.

‘That’s it! I’m not driving any further!’ I shouted as my dignity nosedived down the slope ahead of me. ‘I’m getting out!!’

I scooped Herc out of his car seat in a panic and opened Goobie’s door. ‘Get out Goobie, we are walking.’

‘Have you got the Mummy wobbles again?’ he asked condescendingly.

I ignored him.

We walked behind the Land Rover under a foot of dust as Matt drove it calmly, confidently and steadily down the Bastard-Track. The Bastard.

Not a single roly poly.

70 minutes after leaving Smigies Picnic Site, Goobie, Herc and I reached the Blue Lagoon sweaty and covered in white dust. Matt was spotless.

I needed to get in that bloody water!

The Blue Lagoon has a very narrow black-sand beach at the bottom of the low cliffs that edge the lagoon. To reach it you have to climb down a natural rock staircase. It’s not too tricky. I managed it easily with Herc in the sling.

There are no facilities at the lagoon, so you have to bring anything you need. Including she-wees, loo roll and a bin bag.

Despite it being a Monday, the beach was still pretty crowded. It’s tiny and covered in massive boulders, making finding space for a picnic difficult. A kind couple noticed Herc and offered us their space under the shade of a rock. We ate sarnies. Herc thought the pebbles looked more appetizing.

Finally, it was time to do what we’d come for – swim in the Blue Lagoon. To get to the nice sandy bit a few metres out, you have to swim/wade over rocks and weeds. But it’s worth it because you then reach a sand bar. Here the water is crystal clear and stunningly blue. Divine.

You won’t get a clear horizon photo because all the tourist boats are in the way. They are anchored in the best spots for their passengers to disembark down ladders into the sea. Another reason to get the boat next time.

We swam in the Blue Lagoon for over an hour. Goobie loves swimming and Herc loves being in the water. When it isn’t lulling him to sleep, he splashes around, not caring if the water gets in his eyes.

Eventually it was time to leave. And it was at this point that we had a dreadful realisation – we couldn’t return the way we’d come. There’s no way our neutered Land Rover could make it up those slopes without its 4WD.

We were going to have to drive the Road from Hell.

Well, Matt was.

I’d be walking.

It’s a good few kilometres from the Blue Lagoon to the Baths of Aphrodite where the Road from Hell starts/ends. The first bit was dusty but bearable. And then, when the track shot upwards, clinging to the edge of the hill, it was time to get Goobie and Herc out of the car and leave Matt to it.

At first we walked ahead, in case a sudden earthquake caused the Land Rover to roll backwards and run us over.

A kind Cypriot driver passed us and checked we didn’t need any help. I explained my husband was in the car around the corner.

‘Would you like some water?’ he called out, reluctant to drive on. I love the people of this island!

Matt followed us at a distance until we rounded a corner and faced a long steep slope. Blimey, how was the Land Rover going to cope with that? Matt told us to walk behind him as he needed to get up some speed to make it to the top.

I could barely watch as Matt roared past in a cloud of dust, wheels skidding, engine straining. I prayed he wouldn’t skid off the side of the hill.

We stumbled up after him, breathing a sigh of relief when we reached the top and saw Matt driving along the cliff edge in front.

We walked the rest of the way ahead of the Land Rover, warning Matt of oncoming vehicles. Although you drive on the left in Cyprus, our only plan for surviving the Road from Hell was DON’T DRIVE ON THE LEFT! Particularly not if you are trying to pass oncoming vehicles. The left is a sheer drop. We didn’t want to face death again by driving an inch from the edge. Am I exaggerating? No!

Thankfully, we only met oncoming quad bikes and they were narrower and didn’t mind passing on the wrong side. For most of the way, Matt stopped at potential passing places while I checked ahead. However, there’s a small stretch of track where there are no passing places and you either face a death-defying squeeze or you have to reverse. Neither pleasant.

Finally, we made it back to the Baths of Aphrodite, congratulating Matt on his heroics. And feeling grateful that today wasn’t the day of sudden earthquakes and landslides.

We thanked our Land Rover who, despite a faulty engine and no 4WD, had kept us safe. Truly the King of Land Rovers – even when its Queen of Drivers bails on it.

So was visiting the Blue Lagoon worth all the effort? Absolutely!

Will we be taking the boat next time? Definitely!!!

You can buy life jackets for babies, can’t you?