This is not the best-planned vacation in the history of tourism. It hardly extended beyond “plane flights, rental car, hotel”.

And figure out the rest on site.

We knew the hotel was near Limassol, the second-biggest city in Cyprus, and we figured we would go over there sooner than later … but that was about it.

What to see there? Where to go? What restaurant is well-regarded?

A reasonable person would have researched this before leaving. But, as noted, transporting ourselves to a hotel was as specific as our travel plans had gotten.

So, this afternoon/evening, we left the strip of big hotels that hug the coast in this region and took the B1 road the 5-6 miles into Limassol proper. Without a map of the city. But, at least, with a destination in mind:

Meze Taverna Restaurant, on Saint Andrew Street. Not far from the water.

So, Limassol.

You see this sort of town across the northern Mediterranean: Resort towns that explode with people and activity during the summer … then go into a long winter’s nap.

Towns with all the amenities Euros want for their summer vacations, most of them jammed into a single month, August.

Ice cream shops. Small hotels. Curio shops. Jewelry shops. Little groceries. Bars. Lots of bars. Fast food outlets. And at least two strip joints.

It is very likely that most of the people who go to Limassol know it as that lively, jumping resort town with beaches and lots of lots of people.

But the rest of the year? Limassol seems empty. A place created for tourists who aren’t showing up till later.

We drove quickly over parts of the B1 road that probably are choked with tourists and their cars, in the long, hot summer.

We parked in a municipal lot just east of the Old Port, and soon discovered (feel free to plan, right?) that Limassol (and all of Cyprus?) pretty much shuts down from 3-6 p.m.

A delayed siesta? A long and late lunch? We should ask.

We wandered around the older part of town, some of it rather ragged, some of it fixed up and painted, but the overall feeling more “old” more than “quaint”.

(The newer stuff, including American eateries outlets like TGI Fridays, the Bennigans, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, are away from the original downtown, back on the B1).

While wandering around the nearly deserted streets, we stumbled into what is the No. 1 tourist site in Limassol, the medieval castle. It was closed, of course, but looked every bit as unimpressive in person as it had in the wikipedia photo — a pile of rocks wider than it is tall.

It was 4, and to eat up some time, we had some overpriced ice cream ($6 for two small boules) and saw a few other tourists who, like us, could not be bothered to find out the Old Town is deserted for three hours.

We perambulated sufficiently to find someone who could direct us to the taverna we were seeking. We found it, made a mental note of its location and headed back to the street running parallel with the sea, to do some walking and look around.

Quite a few joggers. A handful of tourists with guide books. Mostly people going home from work, living their lives in those other nine “quiet Limassol” months of the year.

So, at 6 we went back to Meze Taverna Restaurant and were the only people in the place.

The website Trip Advisor UK loves Meze Taverna Restaurant. It ranks sixth among 361 restos in Limassol, and appears to be the highest-ranking place serving Cypriot food. (Who goes to Cyprus to eat French?) People seem to love the food as well as the service.

We settled on the “meze meat” item, at 16 euros per person, a selection often touted by our fellow tourists.

It began with eight cold dishes (half of them dips, including taramasalata — fish roe) and a Cypriot salad, followed by five types of grilled meat — pork chop, lamb chop, two kinds of sausages, chicken kebab, pork kebab — and fries, and completed by hot mezes of mushrooms, Greek meatballs, fried halloumi and scrambled eggs with zucchini.

It was way too much food. Good, yes, but too much, especially considering the owner’s close attention and a sort of “eat everything we have put before you” vibe he gave off.

He was jolly and hovering, and he talked but didn’t listen. It felt like he was telling the same stories he tells all tourists. He might have been thinking of another topic as his mouth framed a well-rehearsed patter.

He mentioned what we had found out from Trip Advisor — he had lived in London, he had moved back, he and his wife run the place (she is in the kitchen). He is burly and 60-ish and has a big, white beard, like a Greek Orthodox priest. He said no one else in Cyprus has his family name. He twice called “Istanbul” by its Greek name, “Constantinople”, where his family originated, if I understood him correctly.

It struck me that he (and less so, the wife) had become victims of their own success. Patrons expect him to project jollity, so he does; patrons expect him to stuff us to the gills, so he does. It was like he has a reputation to uphold, an act to put on, and sometimes he tires of it. Maybe especially when his audience is only two people.

We were there for 90 minutes, and most of that time I was wishing someone, anyone would come in, to dilute our host’s attention. But it never happened, though our host said another party was due in at 9.

It was not expensive to visit Limassol’s sixth-highest-ranked resto — 32 euros to eat, 11.5 euros for a pitcher of drinkable red house wine, 3 euros for water. Or about $60.

But it was not so good that it made us forget about the far-less formal place we had eaten in the day before, getting most of the same mezes for half the price — and without someone hovering over us.

It works fine, for tourists. More than fine, because if you are an English speaker who is not familiar with Cypriot cuisine, a person not sure where a good meal can be had and who values a restaurateur who talks you through the meal in English … that is part of the value of this place.

But if a person lived here, he probably would go to the place on the corner that charges less for pretty much the same dishes.