Only ghosts are allowed
Cyprus | Anno 2023
Thursday, April 20 | Paphos – Nicosia
Friday, April 21 | Nicosia – Kyrenia – Bellapais – Nicosia
Saturday, April 22 | Nicosia – Varosha – Famagusta – Salamis
Thursday, April 20 | Paphos – Nicosia
With the evening sun at our backs, we fly low over the sea, approaching the single runway of Paphos International Airport. On the distant hills, about forty wind turbines wave us a warm welcome. It's half past five when the wheels of the landing gear touch the tarmac after a three-hour and forty-five-minute flight. We immediately set our watches an hour forward, as this is Cyprus, where they wake up an hour earlier than we do.
The weather is sunny, with hardly a cloud in the sky, and even in the late afternoon, the thermometers still read 19 °C (66 °F). So things are looking good. Paphos adds to the appeal by proudly presenting itself as the 2023 European Capital of Smart Tourism, attributed to efforts in Sustainability, Accessibility, Digitalisation, and Cultural Heritage & Creativity. Promising indeed.
Paphos proudly presents itself as the 2023 European Capital of Smart Tourism
With our luggage in hand, we set off in search of our contact person. A friendly lady, small in stature but with a broad smile on her face, is waiting for us. Her name is Antonía. This chatterbox, as we will soon find out, not only knows the history of Cyprus but is also well-versed in Greek mythology and both Old and New Testament stories. On top of that, she can convey it all in flawless English. Later, we will learn that she quietly ignores the fact that we consistently mispronounce her name. It is, after all, Antonía, not Antónia.
In the parking lot, we are greeted by a cheerful figure wearing a quirky green hat. His name is Sean, and he takes great pride in his Irish identity, though he has been living in Cyprus for twenty years now. Sean will turn out to be a calm, ever-cheerful driver who has great respect for speed bumps and speed limits. Sean has many qualities, but one stands out above the rest – he is almost constantly singing while driving. His repertoire is impressive. At the top, of course, are Irish folk songs, but The Flying Pickets also feature prominently on his playlist. Additionally, it’s mainly pop songs from the sixties that make an appearance – which immediately gives away something about his age. Often, the songs are adapted to the scenery. For example, if we spot a pair of flamingos in the distance, Pretty Flamingo by Manfred Mann will play on the bus. And his highly personal rendition of the intro to Ça plane pour moi by Plastic Bertrand is an absolute masterpiece. You can say a lot about that, but one thing is certain – singing drivers don’t fall asleep at the wheel.
Just after half-past seven, we hit the road. We have a two-hour journey ahead of us, as Nicosia, the capital of Cyprus, is where we will be staying for the first three nights. It’s about 150 kilometres from here.
Singing drivers don’t fall asleep at the wheel
Until 1960, Cyprus was a British colony, so cars usually drive on the left side of the road. Just before the highway leaves the coastal area, Antonía points to a spot in the distance on the right where you can see the Rock of Aphrodite – at least during the day, since by now, darkness has fallen.
A little later, the lights of Limassol become visible. This is the second-largest city in Cyprus and also Antonía's hometown. However, she doesn’t hesitate to touch on a sore point – the fact that her city is by far the most expensive on the island. An apartment with a sea view easily costs 1,2 million euros. Ordinary Cypriots can't afford that, but wealthy foreigners can.
Nicosia – Eleftheria Square
And then the Russians come into the picture. Wealthy Russians are particularly fond of settling here. By now, there are around 45 000 of them, which is a significant number for a city with 240 000 inhabitants. The Russian community has gradually developed its own infrastructure, including a Russian Orthodox church.
However, the war in Ukraine has changed this. The influx from Russia has come to a halt. Now, it's mostly wealthy Chinese and Israelis making their presence felt. The latter group is related to the recent troubles in Israel. After all, Tel Aviv is only 370 kilometres from Larnaca. It’s just a thirty-five-minute flight away.
Almost everywhere in Nicosia, you can enjoy this provocation
Around nine o'clock, we gaze down at the basin where the capital, Nicosia, is situated. In the distance, beyond the city, lies the Kyrenia mountain range. We can’t see the mountains themselves in the darkness, but we do see the enormous illuminated sign that the provocative Turks have built on one of the slopes. Step by step, the lights come on, in three phases to grab enough attention, until the massive Turkish flag – 425 meters by 250 meters – is fully visible. Then the lights go out, only to repeat this cycle all night long. Almost everywhere in Nicosia, you can enjoy this provocation.
It’s almost half-past nine when we reach the ultramodern Eleftheria Square, or Freedom Square, designed by Zaha Hadid, a British architect of Iraqi descent. This lady is not completely unfamiliar to us, as the Port House on Zaha Hadid Square in Antwerp is also one of her creations. Through the narrow streets of the old part of Nicosia, we walk to the Centrum Hotel, barely a hundred meters from the square. They have fresh juice waiting for us.
Friday, April 21 | Nicosia – Kyrenia – Bellapais – Nicosia
The infamous Green Line, which divides Cyprus and its capital Nicosia in two, stretches for approximately 180 kilometres. To the south of it lies the Republic of Cyprus, inhabited by Greek Cypriots and part of the European Union. To the north is the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, recognised by no country except Turkey.
It was no coincidence that British Major General Peter Young used a green pen to draw the line on the map
It was no coincidence that British Major General Peter Young used a green pen in December 1963 to draw the line on the map. Red would have suggested sympathy for the Turks, while blue might have indicated a preference for the Greeks.
July 20, 1974, was not an ordinary day for Cyprus. It was the day the Turkish army invaded the island and, within a few weeks, occupied the territory north of the Green Line. Since then, the Green Line has become a buffer zone, which remains under the authority of the United Nations to this day. In some places, it is barely twenty meters wide, while in others, it stretches up to seven kilometres. Turkey has taken no chances, erecting a solid barrier on ‘its’ side, consisting of barbed wire, concrete walls, watchtowers, anti-tank ditches, and minefields. On the Greek side, however, you won’t find such fortifications.
For nearly fifty years, Nicosia airport has been used only by United Nations helicopters
Yet here and there, some villages and farms still operate within the buffer zone. Altogether, about ten thousand people live in this area. The village of Pyla is even one of the four villages where Greek and Turkish Cypriots still live side by side – peacefully, by all accounts. However, the airport in Nicosia remains closed, as it is entirely located within the buffer zone. For nearly fifty years, it has been used only by United Nations helicopters. This is why we landed in Paphos and not in Nicosia.
Loquat |
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Righteous tourists like us are allowed to cross the Green Line and visit the north. And that is exactly what we’ll be doing today and tomorrow. But there are a few conditions we must follow. Naturally, we must carry our ID card or passport. Additionally, the vehicle we travel in needs a special insurance policy. Because European insurance companies do not cover vehicles in Northern Cyprus – just check your green card to be sure. And last but not least, we must take a Turkish guide on board. Once this guide will join us, Antonía warns, she will no longer use loaded terms like Turkish invasion or Turkish-occupied territory. The Turks don’t view their Operation Attila as an invasion but rather as a peace operation to protect the Turkish minority.
The Turks don’t view their Operation Attila as an invasion but rather as a peace operation to protect the Turkish minority
Twenty to nine. We pass the Paphos Gate, a wide passageway through the Venetian city walls that encircle all of Nicosia. On top of the walls, we see barbed wire, and two flags flutter side by side in brotherly fashion – the Turkish flag and the Turkish Cypriot flag, which looks very similar. We are driving parallel to the Green Line. We also see flags at an Orthodox church, but they are of a very different kind. They’re still up because last Sunday, the Orthodox Easter was celebrated, a week later than its Catholic counterpart.
Meanwhile, Antonía does her best to explain the delicate political situation her country has found itself in. In 1878, Cyprus was still part of the Ottoman Empire, as Turkey was called back then. But the Ottomans were once again at odds with the Russians. The British, cunning as ever, convinced the Ottomans to entrust the administration of the island to them so that the Ottomans could fully focus on those northern troublemakers. This arrangement wouldn’t change Cyprus' status; it would remain Ottoman. But then came World War I, and the Ottomans ended up on the losing side. In 1923, the Treaty of Lausanne sealed the situation. From that point on, Cyprus became a British crown colony.
In 1923, the Treaty of Lausanne sealed the situation. From that point on, Cyprus became a British crown colony
Kyrenia Mountains
Five to nine. With a broad smile, our Turkish guide, Ergün Oz, boards the bus. At first glance, he seems to be quite nice. The identity documents of the passengers are collected, and he and Antonía disappear from sight. On an information panel, we see that the Turkish insurance for a rental car costs € 20 for three days, € 25 for a local car for a month, and € 50 for a minibus like ours for a month. A little later, we drive through a strip of no-man’s-land a few hundred meters wide. Even the Turkish border post poses no obstacles. We are safely in Northern Cyprus. But Ergün is nowhere to be seen.
Five past nine. Ergün boards the bus again. To pick us up, he had to cross the buffer zone, but you can only do that by car. So, this morning, he drove from the Turkish side to the Greek zone, parked his car there, completed our paperwork, then drove his car behind our bus from the Greek zone to the Turkish side, parked his car, and now he's comfortably sitting with us on the bus. Makes sense, right?
Many Greek Cypriots wanted to be united with Greece. The Turkish Cypriots on the other hand feared being put in the corner
Together with Ergün, we continue to listen to what Antonía has to say about the dramatic events in Cyprus. During the British colonial period, especially after World War II, many Greek Cypriots wanted to unite with Greece, which they considered their motherland. The British were not receptive to this idea. The Turkish Cypriots were even less so, as they made up only 17 % of the population and feared becoming a marginalised minority.
Between 1955 and 1959, Greek resistance grew increasingly violent. Greek Cypriots viewed the resistance fighters as heroes, while the British labelled them as terrorists. Some were hanged, and others were burned alive, according to Antonía. The fact is that the British were utterly fed up with the rebellious island and granted it independence in 1960. The president of the newly formed republic was Archbishop Makarios. Political power was divided along a ratio of 70 % Greek to 30 % Turkish. Furthermore, the new constitution mandated that the vice president always be Turkish.
This arrangement proved unworkable, as the vice president held veto power. The major Cyprus crisis of 1963-1964 was looming. Makarios proposed a 13-point plan, but according to Antonía, this was in vain, as the Turkish leaders did not cooperate. Ergün remains expressionless throughout this explanation.
For ten years, numerous peace initiatives yielded no results, and violence remained a daily occurrence. Everything changed in 1974 when events took a dramatic turn. Years earlier, in 1967, a military junta had seized power in Greece. However, by then, the junta was showing signs of wear. To stoke nationalist sentiments, the junta decided to take control of Cyprus, with the quiet support of the CIA. Makarios had been known to visit Moscow, and the U.S. was watching this with dismay. Who knew what that collusion might lead to? A second Cuba, and right in the Mediterranean, was something the Americans could do without.
Thus, on July 15, 1974, the presidential palace was bombed. Once the president was killed, Cyprus would fall into the lap of the junta like a ripe fruit. However, that plan failed because Makarios happened to be at his archiepiscopal palace at the time.
Around 190 000 Greeks from the north abandoned their homes and fled south, while 50 000 Turks made the opposite move
But the Turks now had the pretext they were waiting for – the Turkish population was in danger. Five days later, on July 20, Turkish troops landed on the shores of Cyprus. Two days after that, the junta in Athens fell, and Greece returned to democracy. However, the Turkish troops had created a fait accompli by occupying 37 % of the island. Around 190 000 Greeks from the north abandoned their homes and fled south, while 50 000 Turks made the opposite move.
In 1983, Rauf Denktaş crowned his efforts by proclaiming the independent Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. However, in 2003, he was also the one who significantly relaxed the rules for border crossings, allowing Cypriots to cross the border more easily.
Kyrenia
Time to change the subject. Meanwhile, Sean has started the ascent of the Kyrenia Mountains. This range is located quite close to the northern coast of the island, where the coastal plain is only five to ten kilometres wide. With peaks ranging from seven hundred to one thousand meters, this is an ideal vantage point to see what’s happening at sea.
The pirates would appear out of nowhere, plunder parts of the coastline, and then vanish
And that was necessary. Because starting in the 7th century, danger began to arise from the sea. A new world power had emerged on the Arabian Peninsula. Muslims were on a mission to conquer a large part of the world. Beginning in 647, this led to raids by Arab ships along the coasts of Cyprus. The pirates would appear out of nowhere, plunder parts of the coastline, and then vanish, much like the Norsemen would do two centuries later in Western Europe. To gain control over this, the Byzantines had three castles built high in the mountains. Saint Hilarion Castle is one of them. However, this did not prevent the raids from continuing until the 10th century.
To trace the origins of Kyrenia – or Girne, as the Turks call the coastal city – we must go back a long way, specifically to the 12th century BCE. That was when the Greeks began to settle in Cyprus. Legend has it that heroes from the Trojan War initiated this migration, but it is more likely that the Greeks were attracted by the island's rich copper resources.
Settlements began to appear here and there, usually along the coast, which gradually grew into powerful city-states. These city-states occasionally fought with one another, just as was customary in the motherland. Only when faced with external threats did a form of cooperation emerge. In any case, Cyprus was a Greek island more than 3 000 years ago.
The castle was built by the Byzantines in the 7th century as a defence against Arab pirates
Kyrenia – Castle
The highlight in Kyrenia is its impressive castle. As we stroll through a small park that was once an Ottoman cemetery, Antonía points out the small, orange-yellow fruits of a loquat tree. We also notice the many cats around the city, which seem to be everywhere. As we explore further, we’ll discover that cats in Cyprus are never far away. This has to do with Helena, the mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine the Great. In 396, she asked her powerful son to send cats to Cyprus because the island was overrun with venomous snakes. Interestingly, Antonía proudly mentions that cats were first domesticated in Cyprus, a staggering four thousand years before they were in Egypt. In fact, a cat was found buried with its owner in a grave dating back to 9 000 BCE.
Castle – Gateway |
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Byzantine chapel |
This castle was also built by the Byzantines in the 7th century as a defence against Arab pirates. Once, there was a drawbridge for access, but today it’s a stone bridge. A passage about twenty meters long through the thick wall leads us to the inner courtyard.
Only the walls remain of the Byzantine chapel from the 12th century. However, this doesn’t stop us from appreciating the architectural gem, with its cruciform shape and beautiful dome. Originally, the chapel didn’t even belong to the castle, but the Venetians changed that. After they reinforced the castle in the 15th century, the chapel was enclosed within the walls.
Gateway |
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Turkish Cypriot and Turkish flag |
Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Venetians... It’s starting to feel a bit overwhelming. But Antonía provides some clarity. From the 4th century to 1191, Cyprus was part of the Byzantine Empire, the successors to the ancient Roman Empire. The Byzantine regime lasted for seven centuries. Then, in 1191, everything changed rapidly.
That was a mistake he would come to regret
The Crusaders had appeared on the scene. During the Third Crusade, they were forced by a storm to seek refuge in one of Cyprus's ports, specifically in Limassol on the island’s southern coast. Emperor Komnenos of Byzantium thought he could take advantage of the situation. He attempted to seize the ship carrying both the sister and the fiancée of Richard the Lionheart, intending to demand a hefty ransom for both women. That was a mistake he would come to regret. Richard the Lionheart took his time to first conquer Limassol and then the entire island. Komnenos ended up in a dungeon, albeit – at his own request – in silver chains.
Castle – Courtyard
But Richard the Lionheart was actually on his way to Jerusalem. He had no use for Cyprus and, more importantly, he was in urgent need of money. So, he sold 'his' island to the Knights Templar. To pay for it, they had to impose heavy taxes. Naturally, the people began to grumble, leading to a rebellion. That was not the intention. Templars were supposed to protect devout pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, not oppress poor farmers.
A bizarre set of circumstances led to Cyprus being ruled by the French for nearly three centuries
Enter Guy de Lusignan. This unfortunate French nobleman was down on his luck, as the Saracens had taken his castle in Jerusalem from him in 1187. Cyprus as an alternative, that appealed to him. In 1192 he bought the island from the Templars and made it his little kingdom. A bizarre set of circumstances thus led to Cyprus being ruled by the French for nearly three centuries. This period gave us the many Gothic monasteries and cathedrals found on the island.
In 1489, the Venetians managed to wrest Cyprus from the French. It was the island's wealth, but especially its strategic position, that attracted them. The Venetians were true traders, and the profits from trade routes to the East, particularly the Silk Road, were their only motivation. For Cyprus, this marked the end of its opulence, as the island became a colony.
Castle – Courtyard
From the very beginning, the Venetians sensed trouble brewing, as the Ottomans were lying in wait. While Arabs and Persians had populated the Middle East for centuries, the Ottomans were relative newcomers. They first emerged in the 11th century, when this Turkish tribe from the steppes of Central Asia settled in the region we now call Anatolia.
The Venetians began constructing fortifications everywhere. We owe the thick walls around Nicosia and Famagusta to their efforts. However, it proved futile. In 1571, the last Venetian stronghold fell into the hands of the Ottomans. Subsequently, 20 000 Turks settled in Cyprus, thus laying the seeds for the problems of the 20th century. For three centuries, the Ottomans called the shots until, as we already know, the British took control starting in 1878.
It must have been quite a feat to partially reconstruct the ship’s hull from fragments that had been lying on the seabed for more than two thousand years
Reconstruction of the ship’s hull |
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Amphorae |
Having gained a lot of knowledge, we continue our journey through the castle. In a gallery, Antonía surprises us with a spectacular find – a shipwreck that is over two thousand years old. This wreck has nothing to do with the castle; it is here because it sank just off the coast. It was probably on its way from Rhodes to Cyprus, via Kos and Samos. Some believe that pirates sank the ship, while others think that a storm was fatal for the eighty-year-old vessel. The fact is that an amateur diver discovered it in 1969.
Scientists have been able to determine with great precision that these almonds were picked in 288 BCE
It must have been quite a feat to partially reconstruct the ship’s hull from fragments that had been lying on the seabed for more than two thousand years. The hull, fourteen meters long and four meters wide, was made of Aleppo pine. On board, there were more than four hundred amphorae of wine, along with olives and nine thousand almonds. What is astounding is that scientists have been able to determine with great precision that these almonds were picked in 288 BCE.
Kyrenia – Old harbour
Sean now drops us off in the old town for a walk around the picturesque old harbour. It is relatively busy there, but Antonía contradicts that. Today is the celebration of Eid al-Fitr, the Feast of Breaking the Fast, marking the end of Ramadan, which is why there are so few people on the streets.
What stands out to us in the streets is the absence of women
What stands out to us in the streets is the absence of women. Men stroll through the streets, gather in groups to chat, and sip their tea in the tea house… In contrast, women are hardly seen. Apart from a few women who are almost completely veiled. However, Antonía explains that they are not Cypriots; they are likely visitors from mainland Turkey. In Cyprus, Islam is not practiced as strictly as in other parts of the Middle East – thanks to the British colonizers. Veils are not common here, and beer and other alcoholic beverages are readily available. Visiting the mosque twice a year is often considered sufficient. The same goes for Orthodox Greek Cypriots, who often only attend mass on Easter and Christmas.
Bellapais Monastery
Not only Guy de Lusignan had to flee when Saladin conquered Jerusalem in 1187, but the Regular Canons of the Holy Sepulchre also took to their heels in a hurry. They settled about five kilometres higher up in the mountains around Kyrenia to build a new monastery, far from the dangerous coast. They named their convent Abbaye de la Paix, Abbey of Peace. However, over time, that name has been corrupted to Bellapais.
Iconostasis
Soon, Norbertines took over the management of the monastery. What we see today has mainly been added by the Lusignans in the 13th and 14th centuries. Therefore, it is not surprising that it resembles a Gothic monastery. However, as soon as we enter the church, the impressive iconostasis reminds us that this was a Greek Orthodox monastery. It is a beautiful wooden wall that shields the altar area from the gaze of the worshippers. At the bottom, we recognise icons of Christ, Mary, Archangel Michael, Saint George... Above that is a row of icons depicting twelve scenes from the life of Jesus, and at the very top, the icons of the twelve apostles.
At the end of the 8th century, Byzantium was plagued by iconoclasm
Cloister |
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Cellarium |
Such icons must adhere to strict rules, Antonía explains. At the end of the 8th century, Byzantium was plagued by iconoclasm. The crucial question was whether the veneration of images constituted a form of idol worship or not. After nearly half a century, both supporters and opponents reached an ambiguous compromise – veneration of icons was permitted, but worship was not.
In the wake of the debates, strict standards for the creation of icons were also issued. Painting without constraints was no longer allowed. Strict rules determined how each icon had to look. The reasoning was that this would avoid eccentricities. That this would eventually lead to the rigidity of this art form was taken for granted.
The fact that the strict standards for icons ultimately led to the rigidity of this art form was taken for granted
Chapter house
Only the walls remain of the chapter house. Along the wall, the stone seats for the monks are still visible. Higher up, we see the location where the monks' rooms were situated. Apparently, the acoustics in the refectory are excellent, as the space is set up like a concert hall, complete with a piano. The site is also popular as a backdrop for wedding photos. A young couple is being immortalised in the most picturesque spots.
In the meantime, threatening grey rain clouds have gathered above the Kyrenia Mountains, but it won’t rain. As Sean returns to Nicosia, Antonía briefly delves into some geology. Broadly speaking, Cyprus consists of three zones: two mountain ranges – Kyrenia and Troödos – and the Mesaoria plain in between.
About 30 million years ago, Cyprus didn’t even exist, or more precisely, it was completely underwater. Approximately 20 million years ago, the Troödos Mountains emerged as an island. The Kyrenia Mountains would have to wait another 15 million years. But then things progressed quickly, as around 1,8 million years ago, the plain between the two mountain ranges also surfaced. Cyprus was now complete, and the tumultuous history of the island could begin.
The Troödos Mountains provide a perfect cross-section of the rock layers that make up a seabed
The cause of all this was the African continent being irresistibly pushed northward. Where it collided with the European continent, it forced rock layers upwards, leading to the formation of mountain ranges like the Alps. However, this did not happen everywhere. Sometimes a piece of Africa simply slid over a piece of Europe. This was the case with Cyprus and the Troödos Mountains. As a result, a piece of seabed was laid bare. This is called an ophiolite. The many fossil finds of shellfish confirm that it is indeed a piece of seabed.
For geologists, this is a unique opportunity. The Troödos Mountains provide a perfect cross-section of the rock layers that make up a seabed. Normally, these layers are unreachable, lying deep underwater, but here they are perfectly accessible. Just as Mount Fuji is often seen as the quintessential example of a volcano, the Troödos Mountains are referred to as the quintessential example of an ophiolite.
The Troödos Mountains are referred to as the quintessential example of an ophiolite
Just before three, we arrive at the Kyrenia Gate in North Nicosia. If you look at Nicosia on a satellite photo, your eye will immediately be drawn to the circular structure surrounding the city. This is the Venetian city wall, with eleven pentagonal bastions evenly distributed across the regions – five in the north, five in the south, and one in the buffer zone. At the time, the prominent aristocratic families of the city were allowed to sponsor the construction of a bastion and associate their name with it. Thus, the bastion at Eleftheria Square is named after the d’Avila family.
North Nicosia – Kyrenia Gate
For modern traffic, the centuries-old city gates are far too small. The British had already understood this at the end of the 19th century. Therefore, they created a passageway on both sides of the Kyrenia Gate, so that the original gate now appears to be a trivial, freestanding tower building, alongside which cars rush by on the left and right.
Orchid tree |
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Common red bottlebrush |
In the little park stands a purple orchid tree, with beautiful purple flowers that resemble orchids. The red bottlebrush is also in bloom, named so because its fire-red, brush-like plumes remind one of the brush used to clean kerosene lamps in the past.
For over four centuries, Büyük Han is the largest caravanserai in Cyprus, and according to some, the most beautiful
North Nicosia – Büyük Han
Mescit (prayer room) above şadırvan (fountain) |
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Bougainvillea |
Antonía leads us to Büyük Han, for over four centuries the largest caravanserai in Cyprus, and according to some, the most beautiful. At its centre is a mescit, a small Islamic prayer room. It’s quite a remarkable structure because it is built over a şadırvan, a fountain used for ritual washing. In the past, merchants traveling through would spend the night here. The ground floor housed warehouses, shops, and stables for horses and mules, while guests slept on the first floor. In the 1990s, the building was renovated, and today it houses artisanal workshops and similar shops.
Artisanal work
The St. Sophia Cathedral should be a major attraction, but it has failed to be so for four years. It has been closed for restoration during all that time. Construction began in 1209, but when the French King Louis IX came to take a look in 1248 during the Seventh Crusade, not much progress had been made. In desperation, he provided several hundred craftsmen to help move things along a bit. It is therefore no wonder that the building strongly resembles its contemporary, Notre-Dame de Paris. But today we unfortunately see none of that, as the cathedral is completely hidden behind green tarpaulins. Technically, we shouldn't even call it a cathedral anymore, as the Ottomans added two minarets, stripped the interior, and turned it into the Selimiye Mosque.
It is therefore no wonder that the building strongly resembles its contemporary, Notre-Dame de Paris
North Nicosia – Selimiye Mosque (St. Sophia Cathedral) |
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Haydar Paşa Mosque |
The adjacent St. Nicholas Church has been converted by the Ottomans into a bedestan, an indoor market. That, too, has come to an end, as the building is now only used for performances of dancing dervishes. Further down is the Haydar Paşa Mosque, originally the St. Catherine's Church from the 14th century, which is also closed.
Fifty years ago, the adjacent houses were abandoned; now they stand there, dilapidated yet partially restored
North Nicosia – Border post |
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South Nicosia – Border post |
Eventually, Sean drops us off on Lokmacı Street. This is a rather modest, car-free shopping street that leads us to one of the two border crossings where only pedestrians are allowed to cross the Green Line. The buffer zone itself, partly covered, is about a hundred meters wide. Fifty years ago, the adjacent houses were abandoned; now they stand there, dilapidated yet partially restored, as otherwise there is a risk of debris falling on the heads of passers-by. On the Turkish side of the border post, they meticulously inspect our identity cards, while on the Greek side, they don’t even glance at them. Thus, we find ourselves on Ledra Street, a busy, wide shopping street.
South Nicosia – Ledra Street
South Nicosia – Elefteria Square
Eleftheria Square with 360 Nicosia (left) and Tower 25 (right)
Saturday, April 22 | Nicosia – Varosha – Famagusta – Salamis
A glance out the window reveals that we have another sunny day ahead of us. At half-past eight, we leave with Sean's minibus. Today, we will once again visit the Turkish part of Cyprus, specifically the area around Famagusta. Once, this was one of the jewels in the Cypriot crown. It was the island's most important tourist destination; some even called it the Las Vegas of the region. The city owed this primarily to its climate and its golden beaches. Everywhere else in Cyprus, the sand on the beaches is grey, emphasises Antonía. Varosha, the new district, grew into a local Benidorm. Hotels jostled along the coastline. The most luxurious hotels could even attract Liz Taylor and Brigitte Bardot.
Once, Famagusta was one of the jewels in the Cypriot crown
All of this came to an end when the Turkish army invaded Cyprus in 1974. In Famagusta alone, 45 000 Greeks fled. They had hoped to return, but to this day, that has still not been the case. And for the time being, it doesn't look like that will ever change.
The name Cyprus is thought to be derived from the word for copper, as the island has always been an important supplier of copper, even now. According to Antonía, a million people live here on an area of 9 240 km². However, she does not include the soldiers of the Turkish occupation force and the approximately two hundred thousand Turkish settlers, because, as she says, the exact number of these is unknown. The United Nations seems to know this, estimating the population of Cyprus at about 1 207 000.
Eighty percent of that population consists of Greek Cypriots. They are considered part of the Eastern Orthodox Church. Ten percent are Turkish Cypriots, Muslims who speak Turkish. The remaining ten percent fall under various religious denominations. There are Maronites who arrived from Lebanon after 2006, or Armenians who mainly settled in Nicosia after 1915. Lastly, there are also Roman Catholics who usually have ties to Venice.
Two military bases – Dhekelia in the east and Akrotiri in the south – are still completely under British control
For Greeks, Lefkosia is the capital of the country, while for Turks, it is Lefkoşa. However, since the French had difficulty pronouncing that name, it has become internationally known as Nicosia. The capital has a population of 350 000 inhabitants. Antonía points out that all foreign embassies are located in South Nicosia; you won't find a single embassy in the occupied part.
Gradually, we are becoming acquainted with the patchwork of sovereignties that Cyprus actually is. The British still have a significant influence here. Two military bases – Dhekelia in the east and Akrotiri in the south – are still completely under British control. Together, they form a British Overseas Territory that covers about 3 % of the island's surface area. British military personnel live there autonomously with their families, with their own schools, supermarkets, power stations, airports, seaports, and more.
The village of Xylotymbou can attest to this. Normally, it would have been overrun by Turkish troops in 1974. But by coincidence, it is entirely surrounded by the British base of Dhekelia, an area that the Turks were not allowed to enter under any circumstances. Nowadays, Xylotymbou thus forms a Greek enclave in what was supposed to be the Turkish part.
Near the village of Achna, things get even more complicated
Near the village of Achna, things get even more complicated. Dhekelia actually consists of two cores connected by a road. This road forms a narrow British corridor between the Turkish part to the north and the Greek part to the south. So there is no buffer zone where the United Nations are in charge; it is the British who keep the Greeks and Turks apart.
And that is precisely the road we are following. On the left, we see the grim, manned watchtowers of the Turks, and from time to time, a Turkish flag. On the right, in the Greek area, there is no sign of military might.
The red soil contains a lot of iron oxide. It is easy to grow potatoes here. But the inhabitants of Achna can no longer benefit from that. In the distance on the left, we can just make out the ghost village with its small church, Agias Marinas. The doors and windows of the houses have disappeared, just like the people. When the Turkish troops advanced south, they fled into the nearby forest, waiting for calm to return so they could go back to their village. But that moment has never come.
They fled into the nearby forest, waiting for calm to return so they could go back to their village. But that moment has never come
Varosha – Abandoned hotels
Twenty to ten. We arrive at the border post between the British Eastern Sovereign Base Area and the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, completely surrounded by barbed wire. Several buses are waiting for the required permission. A few ghost houses stand empty and abandoned, languishing in no man's land. As always, ordinary people suffer when armies get involved.
Varosha
A taxi driver with five characters on his license plate removes a white sticker, making the letter T appear at the front, and suddenly the license plate consists of six characters. That’s how a Greek Cypriot license plate becomes a Turkish Cypriot license plate.
Once again, Antonía collects our identification cards. Then, to our surprise, Ergün Oz appears, our familiar chaperone who will also happily accompany us here. Apparently, he has travelled with his own car the same route on the Turkish side of the Green Line as we did.
Only mice, rats, and cats still inhabit the area, we hear Antonía say as our gaze sweeps over the desolate city
Varosha
Just after ten, we continue our journey. It doesn’t take long before Vodafone welcomes us with a text message in... Turkey. Greenhouses for tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplants, and more indicate that this is good farming land. But oranges, lemons, grapefruits, and pomegranates also grow abundantly here. A monument on a roundabout, featuring heroic Turkish soldiers ready to protect the population, elicits a sneer from Antonía. Ergün remains unfazed.
For minutes, Sean drives slowly along an impenetrable fence behind which stand dilapidated houses, office buildings, hotels, a church – all empty and abandoned. It’s a dismal sight. Only mice, rats, and cats still inhabit the area, we hear Antonía say as our gaze sweeps over the desolate city. This is Varosha, the district of Famagusta that was once a bustling seaside resort half a century ago. Today, it is the only city that has not been occupied by Turks since the invasion of 1974. This is due to a UN resolution from 1983 stating that only the original inhabitants may settle in the city.
Varosha |
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Letterbox with royal monogram GR |
Strangely enough, the Turkish government loosened the reins last year. In a designated area, visits are now allowed under the guidance of a tour guide. They have even laid brand-new asphalt for the roads. Neat white lines mark the bike paths, and the roundabout has been beautified with a cactus planting. Indeed, there are some prickles to this visit, as we feel like disaster tourists. With much empathy, of course, but still.
Today, Christina is back in Varosha for the very first time after almost fifty years, along with her daughter and grandson
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Varosha
Completely coincidentally, we arrive together with Christina. As a 22-year-old, she was one of the 45 000 Greeks who fled Varosha in 1974. Today, she is back for the very first time, along with her daughter and grandson. Ergün notices this. He wants to know why she didn't return to her city in 1974 after fleeing from the Turkish bombardments. Because by then the Turkish soldiers had already arrived and wouldn't let them back in, she replies sharply. The conversation continues in Greek. It turns out Ergün is also a refugee. In 1974, he had to flee from Greek Paphos in the southwest and seek shelter in the north under the protection of the Turkish army as a Turkish speaker. Thus, they each have their own drama and their own truth.
They each have their own drama and their own truth
From a distance, the buildings seem somewhat normal at first glance. Then you see the overgrowth of grass and bushes, the windows from which the glass has been stolen, the overgrown swimming pools, the empty dining halls, and the rusty crane that stands idle next to an apartment building under construction. An old mailbox at a street corner still bears the letters GR, the royal monogram of King George VI, the grandfather of Charles III. They are two monarchs behind here. This is a ghost town.
Varosha – Sandy beach
We walk to the beach and look out over a skyline that can easily compete with Benidorm. Once, this was the most famous resort of Cyprus; the golden sand was the main attraction of Varosha. Three-quarters of the Cypriot hotel capacity was located here, with a hundred hotels offering a total of six thousand beds. Today, only ghosts are allowed to stay here.
Today, only ghosts are allowed to stay here
Just after eleven, we leave the sinister place behind us. Nowadays, the fame of Famagusta has somewhat faded, Antonía readily admits, but that doesn’t change the fact that the city boasts a history of no less than 3 700 years. For as early as the 17th century BCE, a settlement called Enkomi thrived here. Mycenaean Greeks had settled here to trade, drawn by the particularly advantageous location of the harbour. Just like in their homeland, they built city walls around their city that were so large that, according to legend, only Cyclopes could have constructed them.
The walls through which we now enter the old city are of a different calibre. They were built by the Venetians in the 16th century, as they were fearful of the Ottoman threat. Quite rightly so. In 1570, Nicosia fell into the hands of the Ottomans after a siege of barely 40 days. Only in Famagusta did the Venetians still have control at that time.
To set the tone, the Ottomans sent the severely mutilated head of the commander of Nicosia to Famagusta. Marcantonio Bragadin was not the kind of man to be intimidated by that. With only 8 000 men, he managed to defend Famagusta for eleven months against an Ottoman force of 200 000 soldiers.
When Famagusta finally surrendered in August 1571, the Ottomans’ revenge knew no bounds
When the city finally surrendered in August 1571, the Ottomans’ revenge knew no bounds. Bragadin was captured, his nose and ears were cut off, and two weeks later he was flayed alive. Those who thought that the gruesome story ended there were mistaken. As a macabre trophy, his skin was stuffed with cotton and straw, adorned with the insignia of captain-general, and sent to Constantinople to be permanently exhibited and mocked there.
This was without counting on the courage of a Venetian slave, who managed to steal the skin ten years later and deliver it to the Venetian embassy. Ultimately, the tissue ended up as a macabre relic in an urn in the Santi Giovanni e Paolo Basilica in Venice. There, you can still see the monumental tomb of Bragadin, as well as the infamous urn. Sometimes, reality is more shocking than imagination.
It was an Italian novelist, a certain Giraldi, who first recorded the story of Othello and Desdemona
Famagusta – Othello Tower |
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Sean drops us near the ruins of the Latin St. George's Church, a former Roman Catholic church. Together we walk to the Othello Tower, which is actually not a tower but a full-fledged castle with four round corner towers. Its name derives from The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice, a play that Shakespeare wrote around 1603. In it, he refers to a seaport in Cyprus. A description that is vague enough to place the castle anywhere, so why not in Famagusta?
In fact, it was an Italian novelist, a certain Giraldi, who first recorded the story of Othello and Desdemona. He did this about forty years before Shakespeare, as Antonía emphasises. A true story, by the way, she adds.
St. Nicholas Cathedral, one of the finest examples of radiant Gothic, is a celebration of light and transparency
Lala Mustafa Paşa-Mosque (St. Nicholas Cathedral) |
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Cathedral with minaret |
At the centre of the old town stands St. Nicholas Cathedral, one of the finest examples of what later came to be known as radiant Gothic or high Gothic. Where we saw a 13th-century monastery in Bellapais yesterday, with sunlight struggling to reach the interiors, this cathedral from the early 14th century is a celebration of light and transparency. Sunbeams flood in through the large Gothic windows, illuminating even the smallest corners.
This is the place where kings were crowned in their capacity as King of Jerusalem
This is the place where kings were crowned in their capacity as King of Jerusalem, while in Nicosia, they were crowned in their capacity as King of Cyprus. This is also the place where the treaty was signed that transferred the island from France to Venice. Even kings have been buried in this church, including Jacques II.
Famagusta – Lala Mustafa Paşa Mosque
With three portals, two tall towers, impressive gable peaks, and a beautiful rose window, it almost feels like we are looking at a Gothic cathedral in Northern France. But the minaret attached to the northern tower cannot be ignored. This is no longer a cathedral; the Ottomans have transformed it into a mosque, the Lala Mustafa Pasha Mosque.
The interior of the church has been completely stripped for this purpose. The marble slabs have been torn up, the graves emptied, and human remains thrown away who knows where. It is a bizarre experience when we enter the church interior, with the floor entirely covered with carpets and a mihrab and minbar against the southern wall. Otherwise, the space is completely empty. In the back left, a tiny room is enclosed by a green screen. There, women are allowed to pray.
Right between a Venetian palace and a Venetian city wall, there is a French cathedral that is actually a mosque
Famagusta – Entrance to the Venetian Royal Palace
Across the square we find the ruins of the Venetian Palazzo del Provveditore. Strange, isn't it, how, right between a Venetian palace and a Venetian city wall, there is a French cathedral that is actually a mosque.
The Church of Saint Peter and Saint Paul from the 14th century may be closed, but it still impresses with its monumental appearance. Antonía takes us for a moment to the Twin Churches, a very fitting name for two churches built neatly side by side, with the Church of the Templars on the left and that of the Hospitallers on the right. Both are dedicated to Saint John and were built in the 13th century. Now, they stand as a lasting testimony to the eternal rivalry between the two orders.
The Twin Churches are a lasting testimony to the eternal rivalry between the Templars and the Hospitallers
Famagusta – Twin Churches |
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Emblem of the Knights Hospitaller |
It must have been a bustling city, this medieval Famagusta. It is said that it had 365 churches within its walls – a church for every day of the year. However, once the Ottomans took the city, decline set in. The original population was displaced, but attracting enough Turkish speakers to breathe new life into the city was not successful.
More than thirty centuries separate medieval Famagusta from its Bronze Age predecessor. Enkomi, as the settlement was called, was founded here by Mycenaean Greeks in the 17th century BCE. For six centuries, it set the tone until it was destroyed by an earthquake in 1050. From then on, Salamis would take charge, a settlement founded in the 12th century BCE. That is precisely the place we are now heading towards, specifically the Salamis known to the Romans in the first centuries of our era.
The theatre was dedicated to Dionysus, as evidenced by the marble altar in the centre of the orchestra
Salamis – Theatre
The impressive theatre actually dates back to the 5th century BCE. It could seat fifteen thousand spectators, as it was originally much larger than what remains today – 55 rows instead of the current 18. The theatre was dedicated to Dionysus, as evidenced by the marble altar in the centre of the orchestra, the circular area where the action took place.
Antonía outlines how a performance would unfold. First, animal sacrifices were offered to Dionysus at the altar. Then, dancers appeared on the orchestra – about fifty young men who danced around the altar. Initially, the performance consisted of no more than a dialogue between the leader of the dancers and an actor stationed on the stage behind the orchestra. Unfortunately, we can no longer see that stage, as it collapsed, likely due to an earthquake, and the stones were repurposed for the construction of Christian basilicas.
Even when there were more than three roles in a play, the number of actors remained limited to three
Later, a second and even a third actor was introduced. Even when there were more than three roles in a play, the number of actors remained limited to three, meaning they had to change costumes. The same applied to female roles, which were also portrayed by men.
Salamis – Palaestra
From the palaestra, the sports and game arena where athletes trained, only tall pillars with beautiful Corinthian capitals remain today. These once formed the colonnade that surrounded the central open space. It wasn’t just athletes who valued physical culture – ordinary Roman citizens also placed great importance on maintaining a refined physique, especially during the imperial period. Thermal baths were abundant in every city, serving as centres for hygiene, relaxation, and social interaction.
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We stroll between the walls of what was once the frigidarium, the cold-water bath. On one of the surviving arches that have withstood the millennia, we can make out the remnants of a primitive fresco. Dating back to the 3rd century, it is the oldest known fresco in Cyprus. The scene depicts the myth of young Hylas, an exceptionally handsome youth who was lured into the water by nymphs and, understandably, never returned. This myth, celebrated in art and literature, resonates with themes of beauty, desire, and the irresistible pull of nature.
The fresco depicts the myth of the young Hylas. It dates from the 3rd century and is the oldest known fresco in Cyprus
Salamis – Tepidarium with hypocaust |
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Fresco – Hylas |
In the tepidarium, the warm water bath, the structure of the hypocaustum is still clearly recognisable. The floor rested on small brick pillars, allowing ovens to blow hot air into the open space beneath the floor. Pipes in the walls also conducted the heat upwards, making the walls feel warm as well. Wood fires were used to heat the water, a labour-intensive task that involved slaves. In the caldarium, a room comparable to a modern sauna, we can still see small stones from a mosaic on the ceiling.
During bathing, the Romans would move through these rooms one by one, from cold to hot and back again. The idea was to alternately open and close the pores of the skin, which made the skin soft and supple and improved blood circulation.
In the early 2nd century, Emperor Hadrian felt compelled to issue a law prohibiting mixed bathing
Bathing was initially done separately for men and women. However, over time, this system became watered down, which worried respectable citizens. In the early 2nd century, Emperor Hadrian felt compelled to issue a law prohibiting mixed bathing.
Baths were primarily a social affair. People came to hear the latest news and spread the latest gossip. It may seem strange, but this also applied to the latrines. There was no sense of privacy there, as forty-five seats allowed people to sit side by side. This was convenient, as it meant that Romans likely never had to wait for the toilet. The latrines were usually located near the baths, as the waste water from the baths was used for flushing.
Potable water was collected in a massive cistern, supplied by an aqueduct that, as Antonía confirms, came all the way from the distant Kyrenia Mountains, about a hundred kilometres from here. It must have been an astonishing feat, showing that Roman engineers were clearly not to be underestimated.
During lunch, it’s a bit windy on the sidewalk cafe, but the stunning view of the deep blue sea more than makes up for it. From the park behind the restaurant, loud music can be heard. Dozens of families have gathered under the trees to picnic, barbecue, sing, and dance, reminding us that Eid al-Fitr is a multi-day celebration.
We drive across an open, windy plain toward our next destination. In the distance, Antonía points to an artificial mound between the fields. It must have been a royal tomb, judging by the remains of a chariot and horses that were found there. Homer, in his Iliad, described such burial practices as early as the 8th century BCE. But it’s not the only tomb in this area. Scattered throughout the fields, you can find various tombs from the time of the Mycenaean Greeks.
And that brings us to the reason for our visit. As in one of these tombs, the body of Saint Barnabas, the patron saint of Cyprus, was discovered.
The seeds of the carob became a standard in the ancient world for measuring the weight of precious materials like gold or diamonds
Carob pods |
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Chapel of Saint Barnabas |
Barnabas's success with his Christian preaching in the area of Salamis did not sit well with the local Jews. When they had enough, they dragged him out of the synagogue and stoned him to death. They threw his body into one of the anonymous Mycenaean graves. This must have occurred around 57 CE. The centuries passed, and Barnabas gradually fell into obscurity.
On the chest of Barnabas' body was a copy of the Gospel according to Matthew
Discovery of the tomb of Saint Barnabas |
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Sarcophagus of Saint Barnabas |
Until Archbishop Anthemios of Cyprus had a dream in 478 – or should we call it a vision? Because it was Barnabas himself who appeared and pointed out the location of his grave under a carob tree. The next day, Anthemios set out immediately, and indeed, at the designated spot, he found the grave with the remains. Moreover, a copy of the Gospel according to Matthew lay on his chest.
Promptly, Anthemios took the relic to Emperor Zeno in Constantinople. For this discovery meant that the Church of Cyprus had been founded by one of the original followers of Jesus. That was sufficient to make it an autocephalous church, much like Constantinople and Antioch. For Cyprus, this meant that the island would henceforth have a patriarch who would not have to answer to any ecclesiastical authority above him. Essentially, Cyprus would have its own ‘pope’. For Anthemios, this meant that he could wear a purple robe, possess a royal sceptre, and sign his documents in red ink – privileges reserved solely for the emperor and the patriarchs.
That was sufficient to make the Church of Cyprus an autocephalous church, much like Constantinople and Antioch
Sean drops us off at the Monastery of Barnabas. A small avenue leads us to the chapel built over the grave of Barnabas. It was only constructed in 1954 after an earlier chapel was demolished. Coincidentally or not, a carob tree stands by the chapel. The seeds of this tree, known in Greek as keration, became a standard in the ancient world for measuring the weight of precious materials like gold or diamonds. This is because the seeds have the remarkable property of always weighing exactly the same – specifically 0,2 grams – regardless of which tree or region they come from. The word carat may have originated from the Greek keration.
Inside, we descend a stone staircase into a crypt with two burial chambers. In one of the two is a sarcophagus covered with a cloth. It is said to contain the body of Barnabas. Over the centuries, many pilgrims have visited this place.
Church and Monastery of Saint Barnabas
The monastery and its church are no longer in use. Three monks used to manage the buildings, but after the Turkish invasion in 1974, they were gradually driven away by the government. Today, the church houses an extensive collection of icons, primarily from the 20th century. In the rooms surrounding the cloister, there is a museum that spans a period of more than seven thousand years, from the Neolithic to the Hellenistic period.
Church of Saint Barnabas
The lightly damaged frescoes in a side chapel are interesting. They depict the various phases of the legend – the vision of the archbishop, the discovery of the body of Barnabas, the presentation of the text of the Gospel according to Matthew to Emperor Zeno, and the newly appointed patriarch exercising his office as head of the autocephalous church.
Just after half past three, we begin our return journey along the same route we took this morning, through the British corridor between the Greek and Turkish zones. At the Turkish border post, our documents are thoroughly checked as usual.
Church of Saint Barnabas – Iconostasis
A little later, we find ourselves at the British checkpoint. While they left us alone this morning, we are now being inspected. They are on the lookout for smuggled goods, especially cigarettes. A customs officer comes on board to take a look, glances at our identity cards and our faces, and concludes that we are model citizens. As a precaution, he still inspects the luggage compartment under the bus. You never know.
Shortly after, we are on our way to Larnaca in the Greek zone.
Jaak Palmans
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