Mr Achilleas, who introduced himself as a “shoe therapist,” was an integral part of life within Nicosia’s old city walls. In times when the area was virtually deserted, a few stalwarts kept their premises open, helping to keep the historic quarter alive. Mr Achilleas, originally from Pomos village, was one of them.
His “business” occupied a small space on Socratous Street, opposite the Bank of Cyprus Cultural Foundation courtyard. There, he repaired shoes and sharpened knives. But his true passion was writing aphorisms on cardboard, which he posted both inside and outside his shop. Over time, the walls had transformed into a sort of pre-digital Facebook, where he would share his thoughts on the walls of his workshop. No passerby could resist stopping to glimpse this peculiar literary work, inevitably falling into conversation with Mr Achilleas, who was always eager for a chat.
Besides his philosophical musings, he maintained a “garden” on the opposite wall, filled with succulents that he propagated in tin cans and pots, reminiscent of traditional Cypriot courtyards. For many years, a plump cat would sleep outside on a chair, becoming part of the scene that many young journalists who happened upon the place had celebrated and photographed.
He would tell everyone his story: He left his village as a young lad and came to Nicosia to learn a trade. Since people went barefoot in those days, he decided to work with shoes, finding employment with footwear companies. For the last 20 years, after retirement, he had run his shoe repair workshop, though business had dwindled as nobody bothers to repair anything anymore – they just throw things away and buy new ones. Still, he maintained his presence in city life, like a lighthouse keeper duty-bound to light the beacon each day.
Today, the premises stand abandoned, Mr Achilleas is gone, his wisdom-filled cards have faded in the sun and rain, and most of his plants have withered. I took a cutting from one of the surviving plants home to grow it, as a reminder of Mr Achilleas, whose presence made the city feel more like home. I don’t know what became of him. Someone wrote that he was evicted to make way for student accommodation planned for the site.
Mr Achilleas would be 90 now. Perhaps he decided it was time to rest. The city changes. New landmarks will define our walks through its narrow streets.