Almost everything about Buffavento's beginning is contested. The most plausible date is sometime in the Byzantine period, but the historians offer a buffet of guesses: built in 965 after the Arabs were expelled from Cyprus, raised by the rebel Rhapsomates in 1091, ordered by the governor Eumathios Philokales between 1091 and 1094, or thrown up in the early 12th century to push back against the Crusader states. A Lusignan-era legend insists that a Cypriot noblewoman built it as a refuge from the Knights Templar in 1191, which is why one of the castle's old names is Leonne, the Lion's Castle, or simply the Queen's Castle. The name Buffavento itself may have been borrowed from a monastery in the nearby village of Koutzoventi. The historians can't agree, the legends contradict each other, and the wind on the summit is loud enough to drown the argument out.

Buffavento was never alone. It stood as the middle link in a three-castle chain along the Kyrenia Mountains: Saint Hilarion to the west, Kantara to the east, and Buffavento between them, watching the mountain pass that climbed from Kythrea up to the north coast. The three together formed a kind of horizontal observatory across the spine of the island. From the upper ward you could see the sea on one side and the inland plain on the other, the entire coastline catalogued in a single sweep. Pirates approaching shore could be spotted while still hours from making landfall. That, more than fighting, was the castle's job. It was a watchtower, a place to count sails, a place to send word.

In 1191, on his way to the Third Crusade, Richard the Lionheart conquered Cyprus from its self-styled emperor Isaac Komnenos. Saint Hilarion fell. Kantara fell. Buffavento, which had not seen any real fighting, surrendered after the others gave way. Richard then sold the entire island to the Knights Templar, whose harsh rule provoked a revolt in Nicosia and ended their tenure quickly. Cyprus was resold to Guy of Lusignan, and a French dynasty took root for nearly three centuries. When King Hugh I died in 1218, a vicious regency war broke out between the local House of Ibelin and the partisans of Emperor Frederick II, who arrived in Limassol in 1228. Between 1229 and 1233, Buffavento changed hands repeatedly. In 1232, Eschiva of Montbeliard held the place against the imperial faction. The Lusignans eventually prevailed, and from then on the castle settled into a quieter, sadder role.

The Lusignan period turned Buffavento into a place to disappear people. In 1308, a knight named Anseau of Brie was held inside these walls when news reached him that his order, the Knights Templar, had been put on trial across Christendom. Imagine the climb to deliver that news. Imagine receiving it up here, with the entire Mediterranean visible and entirely out of reach. By the time the Republic of Venice took control of Cyprus in the late 14th century, the castle had outlived its purpose. The Venetians considered it strategically useless and deliberately destroyed the long staircase connecting the castle's upper and lower wards, ensuring that even if someone occupied it again, they could not move troops through it. The mountain itself did the rest of the demolition. Roofs fell in. Cisterns filled with rubble. In the early 19th century, a wandering Catalan calling himself Ali Bey el Abbassi stopped to look at the ruins on his way to Mecca.

What is left now is a working castle stripped to its essentials. The upper ward faced the sea. The lower ward looked out over the plain. Both were built of dressed limestone hauled from the coast and rough stones broken from the mountain itself. There are no carvings, no flourishes, no signs that anyone wanted this fortress to be beautiful. The gate hides inside a two-story rectangular tower with a Frankish pointed arch. Three barrel-vaulted Frankish chambers stand to the west. A Byzantine building of three large rooms sits along the main stairway. The upper ward has a Byzantine cistern interconnected with four water-collecting chambers, and a small groin-vaulted Frankish tower watching the eastern approach. The fact that there is no kitchen, no granary, no obvious food storage tells you what kind of castle this was. People stayed here briefly. Climbed up to look. Climbed back down. The wind kept blowing.