Hotel Mum: why Cypriot children take so long to leave home

A recent study suggests that kids in Cyprus don’t fly the nest until almost 30 years of age. ALIX NORMAN finds out if there’s more to it than rocketing rents

Once upon a time, tradition dictated that children lived with their parents until they married. Increasing education and financial freedom have changed this: now, many kids leave the family home long before they tie the knot. But in some nations – including Cyprus – that’s not always the case…

The average Swede leaves the family home at the age of 19. Finns and Danes flee the nest by 21. Brits are gone by the age of 23; Germans and French by 24. But in Cyprus, it takes at least another three years before kids decide to check out of Hotel Mum: the average Cypriot child leaves home long past their 27th birthday!

There’s a certain pattern to this data that splits north and south. By their mid-20s, you can’t see northern European kids for dust; along with the Scandinavians, Latvian, Estonian and Lithuanian children are all amongst the first to leave home.

Meanwhile, in southern Europe, 30-somethings are still hogging the remote and asking when dinner’s ready. The Spanish, Maltese, and Italians tend to strike out alone after the age of 29. Greeks hang on till they’re about 32. And the Portuguese are a ripe old 34 before they leave their parents in peace!

In Cyprus, the average child leaves the family home at the age of 27.2, roughly a year later than the EU average. Boys tend to stick around until they’re 28, while girls are out a year-and-a-half earlier, at the age of 26.5.

These figures have remained fairly consistent for the last decade, disrupted only slightly by Covid (understandable, given the loss of income and need to bubble). Still, it’s interesting that kids in Cyprus leave home at a later age than their northern counterparts. It can’t all be about money, can it?

“For me, it is,” says 29-year-old Demetra, who lives with her parents in a house on the outskirts of Limassol. “I’m an independent person, I like my own space. But I’ve been looking for a flat for months now, and haven’t found anywhere I can afford.”

Demetra works in communications and, after completing her studies in the Netherlands, returned to the island to start a new chapter. “I knew salaries were lower here; it was a compromise I was willing to make to enjoy the Mediterranean lifestyle.

“But I didn’t realise quite how high the cost of living is now,” she adds. “And rental prices – especially in Limassol – are simply untenable on a single salary. Other than civil servants or forex brokers, who amongst us can afford €800 for a studio? So I just keep living with my parents.”

But it’s not just the wages. 28-year-old Larnaca resident Paris believes it’s Cyprus’ compulsory military service that has contributed to his inability to leave home. “After I returned from studying in the UK, I had to do the army. By the time I’d finished, most of my foreign friends from uni were already well into their first job and able to earn a decent wage.

“I feel like I’ve fallen behind; I’m nearly 30, I work in graphic design, but I’m still only a junior – it will be at least another two years before I can afford to move out of my parents’ home.”

Tertiary studies compound the problem, suggests Nicosia-based finance executive Sophia. According to a recent study, Cyprus has the third highest number of degree-holders in Europe after Ireland and Luxembourg.

“And when everyone has a Bachelors and a Masters, you need a PhD to stand out,” says Sophia. “Four years for an initial degree, two for a masters, and another four for a PhD,” she laments. “Even if you went to university at 18, you’re not going to be done with your studies until you’re 28. Yes, you can work during that time, but that usually means it will all take even longer. And yet this can be the only way to stand out on an island where everyone from your plumber to your hairdresser has a degree, and nepotism Rules OK!”

Now 30, Sophia has only just left the family home. “I reckon it was my qualifications that secured me the salary I needed to get on the property ladder,” she acknowledges. “If I’d returned to Cyprus after my Masters, I might have had to settle for a job that kept me living with my parents for much longer.”

Of course, in such a traditional country, there are other factors to be considered. Twenty-six-year-old Stephanie is up against not money, military service, or multiple degrees, but family.

“My parents have a six-bed home outside Limassol and another house in Protaras. My sister and I are very fortunate; we have lived a privileged life. And we’ve both known since we were little that, when the time came, a house would be provided. Unfortunately, that time is when we marry!”

Stephanie has a good job in a government ministry, and admits she could easily afford to rent. “I’m young; I want to be independent. I’ve been with my boyfriend for two years now, and we talk a lot about moving in together. But, my Dad would disown me.

“My British friends from university think I’m crazy,” she adds. “They all moved out as soon as they got a job – many were paying rent to their parents long before they left the family home. I don’t think they understand how different things are on this island. When it comes down to it, I don’t think leaving home in Cyprus is about the money; it’s about tradition.

“I know not all my friends are fortunate enough to have a well-paying job, and it’s often finance that tips the balance when considering leaving home. But I do think its tradition that’s at the very heart of it, especially if you’re a girl. Every Cypriot dad wants to believe his daughter will remain a virgin until her wedding day,” she says with a laugh. “And so we live like it’s the 1950s, and sneak our boyfriends in through the bedroom window!”

For obvious reasons, some names have been changed to protect the anonymity of the interviewees