When Anastasia Zosman left behind the fast-paced rhythm of Limassol for a quiet house tucked into the mountains of Kakopetria, she didn’t yet know she was stepping into a kind of personal fairytale.
In this exclusive interview with The Future Media, Anastasia shares what it’s like to trade city lights for candlelight, to learn Greek from neighbors in the village square, and to share breakfast with a wild rabbit who may or may not make her into “Baba Zaya” (Grandma Bunny) one day.
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Let’s start from the beginning. Could you tell us a bit about yourself, your background in technology, and what life was like for you in Limassol before you moved out of the city?
Before moving to Cyprus, I worked in Russia as a media manager, mostly with well-known jewelry and luxury cosmetics brands. But life had other plans for me. About six years ago, I moved to Cyprus and eventually transitioned into the tech field. I started working at an IT company here in the finance department, and while it was originally an in-office job, post-COVID, we all work mostly remotely.
Life in Limassol was very lively and social. There were always things going on: exhibitions, concerts, fitness on the beach, events, dinners with friends. Everything you would expect from living in the heart of a buzzing city. At some point, I started to get a bit tired of that rhythm. The first time I visited Platres, something tugged at my heart. I didn’t quite understand it, but I would constantly feel this almost magnetic pull to nature. I began going to the mountains more often on weekends, just to get a break from the city. Alone or with company, it didn’t matter.
You have mentioned always feeling drawn to the mountains. What was it about Kakopetria that stood out to you?
I never had a grand plan to leave the city. As a single woman, the idea of living alone outside the city felt radical, almost unimaginable. But the more time I spent in nature, the more I started thinking about what it would be like to live there. Something started to change within me.
I had the idea of renting a villa in the mountains with friends. Like a holiday home, everyone would have a set of keys and could come and go as they pleased. But I was the only one in my friend group who was genuinely excited about the prospect of staying overnight in the mountains, so the idea remained a little fantasy of mine.
How did you come across the house you’re living in now?
I moved often when I lived in the city. And every time I found myself between places, the idea, or should I say fantasy, would return. I would spend evenings going through local ads on Bazaraki. But something kept stopping me, this inner voice whispering to me that it’ll be too complicated, too scary, or I’ll end up feeling too isolated and lonely.
Then, one autumn day, I just happened to open up Bazaraki for a quick scroll, and that’s when I saw the house. Without a moment’s thought, I called the owner and set up a viewing. All the way there, I was trying to convince myself that I was only going through with this to satisfy some strange curiosity of mine. No way was I actually going to move to the mountains all by myself.
I walked up to the house. Built in 1996, it had recently been renovated and stood completely empty but for the fireplace and kitchen. Something tugged at my heart.
I gave them the deposit then and there. I didn’t even think to try to rationalize what I was doing, how I imagined myself living in this tiny village deep in the mountains. But I knew this was my house, and I wasn’t about to give it up to anyone else.
Looking back, how has that decision changed your life, personally, professionally, or even just day-to-day?
I, ultimately, moved in around November. And I’ll be honest, it was the most difficult six months of my time here in Cyprus. Let me tell you, moving into a house in the mountains during winter, when you don’t know how the central heating works, how to switch on the water heating, or how to get the fireplace started. It was a sharp learning curve.
And for the first six months, I just had no idea what was happening. I wouldn’t call it survival mode, but more like meeting the most basic needs, warmth, comfort, and just trying to get by. And somehow, that became my way of life.
Over time, it had this powerful effect on me. Being someone who does have a lot of anxiety, it turned out to be a kind of salvation. You’re not stuck between four walls. You have different floors to explore, you have nature outside, and there’s always something to do.
So, bit by bit, the anxiety completely faded. I started feeling this calm come over me. In the city, for example, you tend to move through your day or events without thinking. You’re constantly bouncing from one thing to another, spreading yourself thin.
Now, I find myself being more mindful about attending an event. Is it worth the trip? What kind of emotions am I looking for? I take it all in much more consciously now. And that new mindset made me re-evaluate a lot of things.
Another big change is that my home has finally become my place of strength. I grew up in a family where everyone would gather around a big table, friends, and relatives. Now I’m slowly starting to fill my own home with that same kind of energy. Hosting BBQs for friends, organizing hikes, it’s a completely different feeling.
You start becoming this sort of home base for others. Because let’s face it, most of us live far from our families, and creating that kind of support, that sense of family with friends, is really important.
We’ve heard there’s an Easter story. Would you share it with us?
Easter, for me, as for many coming from an Orthodox faith, is a sacred holiday.
I’ve always attended church during this period. It’s not something I plan or schedule, but more like something the soul is drawn to. This year, I decided to create a real, proper Easter for myself.
I chose to go to an old church in the historic part of Kakopetria for the Easter service. I don’t remember exactly what century it’s from, but it’s very old, one of the main churches there.
I associate Easter with light and joy, and I wanted to dress the part. You know, in light colors, soft tones. I braided my hair, threw on a shawl from Tula… Picture a fairytale girl holding a candle.
When I arrived at the church, I, of course, stood out. The locals wore dark clothes, their hair was dark, and then this apparition appears, the glowing girl with a candle, not quite sure how to act, not sure what to do.
Even though I looked (and felt) different at the moment, what touched me most was how much the village came together as one big family. People arrived with their children, some were pregnant, and there were elderly couples. Everyone was hugging, kissing, and congratulating one another. The energy was incredible, so positive and warm. You leave feeling genuinely happy.
Now, tell us about the rabbit.
Ah, yes, the rabbit. My superstar.
My neighbor told me this story about an old Cypriot man who used to live nearby, and he used to raise rabbits. At some point, he got seriously ill and was taken to Nicosia. His relatives decided to set the rabbits free.
I don’t know how long ago this happened, but apparently one survived.
One day, I was sitting on the porch having breakfast, and suddenly I saw a rabbit appear in front of me, acting as if it had always lived there. So, I did what anyone would do. I started feeding it.
Breakfast became our mutual daily ritual. In fact, my rabbit was the reason I began to have a more diverse diet. I’d buy fresh veggies, some for me, some for the rabbit. I’d make my coffee, and every morning we’d have breakfast together.
I was Alice in my own little wonderland. Magical.
I keep hoping that someday he will bring home a family. My friends joke that they’ll start calling me “Baba Zaya” (“Grandma Bunny”). But I think he’s still single… or maybe she — who knows?
Let’s talk about the financial side of the move. What did it cost you to relocate, and how does the cost of living in Kakopetria compare to city life? Has it been more affordable, or are there hidden expenses people might not expect?
Well, let’s start with if you compare rent, then, without a doubt, it’s very cost-effective. The rent I pay on this house is half of what I pay for my apartment in Limassol. But this is just about the rent cost.
The actual move can be quite pricey. You need furniture. When moving into an empty house, you need to have a budget, but, at the same time, for a rental, you know you will be there for a short time, a year or two, so you want to get the most out of it from the beginning.
In the end, the initial investment does add up to a pretty big amount, but, lucky for us, we have IKEA to take away some of the heartache. Then there is the logistics of having the furniture delivered to your location and assembling it.
Besides furniture, let’s not forget that you’ll have to survive a long winter here. The houses are built very light, so any time the wind picks up, you’ll be feeling a bitter draft in the gaps between windows or just a cold through the walls.
Then, if you have something like a diesel heater and an old system in the house that more often than not breaks down, you’ll need to call in a technician who will only come by in a month. You learn a new language, a new way of life. Ordering firewood, stacking it. And trying not to stack it where three days later it will get soaked from a sudden shower and have to be all thrown out. It’s all lessons to be learned for the next year.
The lifestyle is cheaper in a village than in a big city like Limassol. In Limassol, I basically lived on the delivery service. Here, that doesn’t exist. Now, if I want to eat, I have to cook. But you have access to fresh produce, vegetables, and fruit from the local market or from the garden. So, that’s a big plus.
For travelling, you need to consider fuel prices and manage your trips. If you are constantly driving back and forth from the village to the city, it will all add up.
I think I’ve covered the financials.
Looking ahead, do you see yourself staying in Kakopetria, or was this move a pause before the next big chapter?
That’s a hard question. What I do know is that, for the first time, I truly feel at home in Cyprus — not just in a physical place, but in my heart.
At the same time, I’m someone who thrives on change, on exploration, on becoming. This may not be my final destination, but it’s a sacred chapter — one that will never leave me. If I ever move again, whether back to the city or somewhere entirely new, this house, this village, this rhythm of life will remain a part of who I am. Perhaps it will become a holiday home. Or perhaps something I’ve yet to imagine.
What I know for sure is that Kakopetria has opened something in me. A softness. A strength. A sense of belonging — to the land, to the language, and to the people who now feel like family.
I’m learning Greek not just to pass a test, but to truly connect. I’ve begun creating a space that holds others, that builds community. And in doing so, I’ve started holding myself with more care.
There’s still more to unfold. A version of me who dares to open her heart again. A version of me who follows her wildest dreams — even when they don’t make sense to anyone else.
A version of me I’m slowly, joyfully, becoming.
