"Go. You'll like it," our elder son told us after visiting the Turkish Republic of North Cyprus, "but hurry, because it won't last."
That was a year and a half ago and maybe we didn't respond quickly enough. In the event, we did like it, but not as much as we'd hoped. As a destination for tourists of our kind - the kind who enjoy wild countryside, the relics of history and cultures contrasting with our own - North Cyprus seems to have deteriorated even over that short timescale, and more so still in the three or four years since the guidebook with which we had equipped ourselves was written. Those things that appeal to us have not yet been extinguished, but they are being marginalised.
On the other hand, as a destination for tourists who want to lie around a swimming pool, never needing to speak a word of a foreign tongue or being confronted by the unfamiliar, it has probably improved. And if you want to buy a cheap villa in the sun amid hundreds of indistinguishable cheap villas in the sun, it is rapidly approaching paradise. Good luck to those people, one might say; they are entitled to their preferences. But somehow I feel they've been having all the good luck lately, whilst the rest of us are running out not only of luck, but of places that haven't been discovered and engulfed by them.
It was saddening to find Northern Cyprus, which we had hoped might be at least to some degree protected from over-development by its diplomatic isolation, beginning to go the same way.
* History *
Where to begin?
From neolithic times, Cyprus has had its fill of history and the resultant indigestion is felt acutely to this day. Practically everyone who was ever anyone around the Mediterranean has staked a claim to it at one time or another, usually with accompanying unpleasantness: the Persians, Egyptians, Hittites, Phoenicians, Macedonians, Romans, Arabs, Byzantines, Venetians, Ottomans and British. In the midst of all those occupations it was for a while an independent kingdom, though ruled by the crusading Lusignan dynasty, who were installed as monarchs at the behest of Richard the Lionheart, so you could call that an occupation too.
Most recently, the struggle for independence from Britain in the early 1960s was complicated by some vicious internecine strife between ethnic Greek and Turkish communities. When this continued even after the British had left, Turkey intervened in order either (depending on whom you choose to believe) to protect their down-trodden confreres or to assist them in some ethnic cleansing and land-grabbing. Either way, the resultant cease-fire demarcation, known as the Green Line, divides the island, and has left the north in a legal limbo. Only Turkey recognises the self-declared Turkish Republic of North Cyprus. There is a mass of unfinished business between the two mutually antagonistic communities, which may be left unresolved indefinitely unless Turkey's desire to join the EU causes it to apply pressure on the TRNC to seek a reconciliation with the south.
One feels sympathy for the Cypriots on both sides of the divide, for they are all victims of the island's past. You wouldn't wish that much history on your worst enemy. For the visitor, though, there are compensations. All of those regimes and conflicts have left their relics, with fascinating results for those who like mooching around ruined castles, churches and archeological sites.
* Ruins and Relics *
Where to begin?
Perhaps at the chronological beginning: with the bronze age site at Encomi, fully two thousand years old, and covering about a square kilometre - a vast extent for the period. It's a neglected site, with only the foundations of the buildings visible, mostly unexplained by any signage, and overgrown with weeds and wild flowers. We arrived just after a thunderstorm, and the custodian, after warning us that we would get wet and muddy going round, declined to charge us for entry when we persevered. Though without specialist knowledge it was hard to make out much of how life was lived by the original inhabitants, the visit was well worth it.
More accessible, slightly better signposted and in truth much more impressive is the complex at Salamis, a ruined city beside the sea that flourished intermittently under various occupants for about fifteen hundred years from 1000BC onwards. A jumble of eclectic relics dating from all these periods remains; fascinating to wander around trying to distinguish one from another, and fascinating to reflect that the first were already as old when the last were built as the last ones are today. Most notable are the Byzantine gymnasium with its keynote upright marble columns and adjacent bath-house, and the Roman theatre, partly reconstructed on a much reduced scale; the original had fifty tiers of stone seats and could hold an audience of 15,000. How many modern theatres can match that? There are some fine Roman mosaics here too, as there are at Soli at the other end of the island.
If I listed all the ancient sites this review would never end, but the Persian palace at Vouni must rate a mention, and a visit, if only for its spectacular position perched on a hilltop above the sea, with breath-taking views in all directions and only the cry of gulls to disturb any resultant reverie. The actual remains are rather vestigial, though; as with Encomi, you'd have to be an expert to make much of it.
Fast-forward to mediaeval times, and there are four castles not to be missed, and one abbey. Of the four castles, three are perched atop the jagged high limestone ridges that parallel the northern coast. Here they could be used as lookout posts on alert for invading fleets, as well as fortified refuges after any invasion. All entail a bit of climbing to be seen in full, and all more than repay the effort. St Hilarion, just inland from the port of Girne, is the most easily reached and has a well-preserved and well-presented interior. Kantara, the most remote, affords astounding views eastward over the beautiful Karpaz Peninsula, and if you are lucky you will be able to contemplate them with only a few lizards and soaring birds of prey for company. We were lucky, until three coachloads of Germans turned up, fortunately just as we were leaving. The highest, Buffavento (literally, 'Wind-Buffeted'), is located between the two and lives up to its name. You have to climb the last couple of hundred metres upwards on foot in the face of the wind and the castle's ruins are sparse when you reach them, but it is worth it for the sense of achievement and you are unlikely to be joined on the pinnacle by many coach-parties.
The fourth castle, that of Girne itself, dominates the harbour and is virtually intact, its craven Venetian commander having surrendered to the Turks in 1571 without a fight, no doubt in the interests of future generations' sight-seeing. One can only thank him as one explores the interior, which includes a charming little chapel originally built outside but eventually encased within the walls, and a museum in which the prize exhibit is a cargo vessel, wrecked outside the harbour 2300 years ago, its remains just recently recovered. Its antiquity puts the Mary Rose into perspective.
The Abbey is that of Bellapais, a peaceful place built amid a garden on a hillside with dramatic views, just inland from Girne and surrounded by a pretty village, a contrast in itself to most North Cypriot villages. It was here that Lawrence Durrell wrote Bitter Lemons, still worth reading for its reflections on the history and inter-communal tensions of the island despite it having been written before those tensions reached their tragic climax.
* Places Old *
Apart from the ruins and relics dotted around the island, there are three ancient cities that must not be missed by any visitor to North Cyprus:
~ Lefkoşa, or Nicosia as it is more familiarly known to the British, the capital. This is a must for three reasons: the fact that it is divided into two by the Green Line, much as pre-unification Berlin was by the Wall, which always gives a curious character to a city; its stupendous defensive walls, built by the Venetians; and its plethora of places of interest within. In fact, there is so much to it that I shall make it the subject of a separate review.
~ Gazimagusa, perhaps more familiar under the name Famagusta. It's mainly a modern port, but if all you want to do is lie on a beach with a hotel bar to hand, the stretch of shoreline north of Gazimagusa is sandy and as good, or as bad, a place as any other. Old Gazimagusa must be seen for its massive mediaeval walls and turrets, equal to those of the capital. Behind them, 5000 Venetian defenders for ten months withstood a besieging Ottoman army numbering over 100,000. Nowadays, inside, the old city is rather run down, its network of lanes interspersed with empty spaces and abandoned churches, but has atmosphere. South of the city, the formerly Greek resort/suburb of Varosha, once the smartest place to live on the island, is now a ghost town, full of overgrown, crumbling villas cordoned off behind barbed wire.
~ Girne (aka Kyrenia). The place from which to see Girne to best advantage is the harbour wall, which curls round in much the same way as the Cobb at Lyme Regis. From this vantage point, the castle dominates the foreground. The adjacent harbour, lined with cafés and crammed with sailing craft, looks supremely picturesque while the inland mountains provide a dramatic backdrop. The warren-like alleys of the old town only extend a few blocks back, however, and beyond them Girne is surrounded by sprawling, unsympathetic ribbon development that stretches along the northern coast in both directions.
* Places New*
Ah yes: sprawling, unsympathetic ribbon development. Hotels, casinos, bars, fast-food outlets, supermarkets, garages. Ugly unfinished buildings in skeletal concrete fleshed in with ceramic breeze-blocks, surrounded by dust, debris and rusting machinery. And, above all, holiday villages: outcrop after outcrop of identikit estates of new villas and apartments, raw and rocky on their bulldozed bare-earth sites.
Our guidebook, only a few years old, suggested this development was only to be found a few miles west of Girne and hardly at all to the east. Now, it extends at least ten miles each way, and is also creeping up the eastern coast from Gazimagusa. Northern Cyprus is too small to stand much more if it is to retain any of its natural coastline. Already, only the Karpaz Peninsula (which will form the subject of a separate review) is unaffected, and one wonders how long that can last.
Along the northern coast road, some of the ugliest new building is at least concealed behind the billboards advertising it, reminding one of Ogden Nash's rhyme: "I think that I shall never see a billboard lovely as a tree. Perhaps, unless the billboards fall, I'll never see a tree at all." Mostly, the billboards are in English and the estate agents and property developers doing the advertising have British names. The estates themselves have names like Sunrise Beach Village, and often boast slogans that are evidently meant to be uplifting but which make one's heart sink, like "You imagine, we inspire". Occasionally, a misprint leavens them with humour, as in "Simple the best". And sometimes they seem all too sinisterly sincere: "The future is tomorrow - we build on that and more."
Mingling with the posters for holiday homes are those for hotels and bars, with names like Kate O'Reilly's, Billy's Wine Bar, Shirley Valentine, Stumble Inn and Susanna's Berliner Biergarten, usually with happy hours, the Premiership on wide-screen TV and English Breakfast served all day. One is relieved to see, just now and then, a sign betraying that the locals have failed to discern what might deter even the least discriminating of travellers, such as the Mosquito Beach Hotel.
Enough of this. Perhaps I'm just a jaundiced old fossil unable or unwilling to face the future. And, away from the coast, it is still possible to find quiet hillsides where one can walk and enjoy some splendidly unspoiled scenery and wildlife.
* Flora and Fauna *
We went to Northern Cyprus in early spring to indulge my wife's passion for wild flowers, and she was not disappointed. Every pasture or stretch of waste-land was yellow-orange with golden marguerite, flowering fennel or marigolds. For colour variation, there were local varieties of mauve convolvulus, wine-red borage, Byzantine gladioli in magenta and 'black' tulips. Oh, and Martagon lillies, grape hyacinths, wild iris, orchids and geraniums. Gardens were suffused with the scent of citrus blossom and sweet peas.
Plus flowering trees and shrubs, of course: mimosa, purple Judas trees, bougainvillea in all shades, wispy tamarisks. Not blossoming, but still attractive in their dark foliage were cypress, olives, carobs and maritime pines.
Later in the year, this landscape, with its many rocky patches and scrubby limestone crags, might look arid and parched under the unrelenting sun, but in spring, even after a drier-than-usual winter, it was in places a delight.
I am not, and never shall be, a serious bird-watcher, but even I took pleasure in spotting the honey buzzard, the bee-eater, the red-rumped swallow and the hoopoe. Sundry seabirds too, of course. Turtles, which come to the shores of north-eastern Cyprus to breed, were out of season, though rather sadly we did see on one beach an empty shell. We saw wild donkeys, goats and the dark woolly sheep known as mouflon. We didn't see the blunt-nosed viper, which is both rare and shy; you have to be very lucky to spot one and very unlucky to tread on it.
* Things to do *
Well, wander in the hills, of course, or around the many towns and villages, though these tend to be interesting rather than charming or beautiful. Explore the ancient monuments. Seek out the few empty beaches left on the Karpaz Peninsula. Swim in the sea, despite it being chilly this early in the year. Eat and drink.
* Food and drink *
Turkish North Cyprus offers typically eastern Mediterranean fare: kebabs and grilled fish, salads with olives and coriander leaves. The mixed starters known as meze - often hot and cold together - are far too filling to appetise, but none the worse for that. Everything tends to be garnished with cucumber and tomatoes, and accompanied with chips, often, I have to admit, very good chips. There is a sharp feta-like cheese, and a rubbery version known as Hallim. The yoghurt is excellent, as is the local honey to put on it. Puddings, like baklava, are usually honey sweetened and often contain nuts. Indeed, nuts are plentiful and cheap. I was intrigued to see Fried Ice Cream on offer in one café, but regret to say I failed to sample it.
Although mostly Muslim, Turkish Cypriots do not seem to take too literally the prophet's prohibition of alcohol. Turkish Efes beer, a drinkable enough lager, is available everywhere, as are local wines. The whites (Çamkaya, Doluca) are quite light, fruity and thirst-quenching; the reds a bit heavy and sweet for western taste. Most international brands of spirits are available, plus local brandy and raki that I forbore to try.
Coffee is a disappointment. You can choose between sweet potent Turkish - fine in its way but over in a thimbleful - or Nescafe. We found it easier to stick to tea.
* Money and prices *
The recognised currency is the Turkish Lira (YTL) - easy to change locally, and you'll get a better rate than in the UK, currently around 2.7YTL to the GBP. Shops, hotels and restaurants in the cities will often accept British, (southern) Cypriot pounds, euros or dollars instead of YTL, but the implicit rate won't be as good as if you change your money at a bank.
Prices are generally cheaper than in the UK; depending on what you're buying, perhaps two-thirds what you'd expect here in the cities, less in the country. Eating out, we found a full meal - always extremely full, indeed usually more than we could eat - typically came in around YTL60-80 (say, £25) for two including drinks, but I fear we were paying tourist prices.
Two of our best meals were cheaper: dinner at the KocaReis restaurant beside the sea near Salamis, where we accidentally stumbled into a local celebration and were made very welcome, chatted to by the celebrators and invited to join in the dances - YTL39 (£14.50) for two, including a numbered flower as a raffle ticket for my wife. YTL31 (£11.50) for a copious lunch beside the street-market in Lefkoşa; a passing, very pregnant-looking cat took pity on me and volunteered to help eat my vast kebab, but even between the two (or more) of us we barely managed half of it.
* Where to stay *
There are plenty of hotels and hostels, especially around Girne and Gazimagusta, of all sorts and standards, though they tend to be a bit basic in outlying areas. There are also some campsites. We stayed at the following, none of which I'd recommend:
~ Bellapais Monastery Village. Not, despite its name, in Bellapais village, but in a suburby area of Girne. Well-furnished enough rooms and pleasant grounds, but definitely aimed in a blinkered and slightly shoddy way solely at foreign tourists. Telltale detail: in a land awash with citrus fruit, bottled squash poses as "orange juice" for breakfast.
~ Blue Sea Hotel. Wonderfully located on the Karpaz Peninsula, beside a tiny fishing harbour along an otherwise deserted shore. Very basic facilities, with no mains electricity so that everything depends on sunlight for the solar power. We were prepared for this, but not for the "misunderstanding" over the bill.
~ Mimoza Beach Hotel. Near Salamis, north of Gazimagusa. Well-appointed rooms with sea-view could make this a satisfactory if characterless place to stay, but we arrived early in the season before it seemed ready for guests, although we had booked in advance. Most things, including the hot water, weren't working and to describe the manager's attitude as indifferent would be to exaggerate greatly his concern.
Unfortunately, I can't give you exact hotel prices since we booked as part of a tailor-made package with specialist tour operators Anatolian Sky - just over £700 each for eleven nights b&b including flights and car hire, which I thought pretty good value. To judge from what I saw on price lists in hotel lobbies, you could pay anywhere between YTL60 and YTL200 (£20-£75 approx) for a double room per night, perhaps more for a fancy place in high season.
* Getting there…. *
….is only slightly tricky. Because of the unresolved diplomatic status of TRNC, you can't fly direct. Flights by Cyprus Turkish Airlines to Ercan, Lefkoşa's airport, are available from London, Manchester, Glasgow and Belfast, but have to touch down in Turkey en route, an inconvenience rather than a hardship. With the stop, they take about six hours. Or you could take a flight by any carrier to Istanbul, and pick up a local flight from there.
You can also now - just within the last few years - fly into southern Cyprus and cross over to the north, but there are only five crossing points and you can't take a hired car across the Green Line.
* Getting around…. *
….is definitely best by hired car, the only way to penetrate the prettiest places. Hire rates would appear to be inexpensive (to judge from our package and what we heard for other visitors we met) and petrol prices around YTL2 (75p) a litre, cheaper than in the UK. One does see buses lumbering around, and they are probably good and cheap between the main centres, but few and far between for the remoter areas. The only railway line, built by the British, has since ceased operating.
Outside the towns there is little traffic and the main roads are mostly in good condition. Back country lanes are very mixed, some pot-holed and with dirt-track patches, and you have to watch out for herds of sheep and goats. Finding your way around can be a challenge, since sign-posting is minimal, but locals will be helpful in offering guidance. They are mostly friendly, eager to assist and a remarkable number speak some English even in the villages - perhaps a relic of colonial rule. This is just as well since Turkish is a difficult language for westerners, and we never progressed past a few basic greetings and phrases.
One thing to watch out for is the tendency of the Turkish Cypriots to designate large tracts of territory as Military Zones, where cars may not stop and photography is forbidden. These rules are taken seriously and the tourist is well-advised to abide by them, but they are at least marked with clear, if rather sinister, red-and-black notices.
* When to go *
Spring, of course. You're just missing the best time. Go next year. Don't leave it many years longer, though, or even in spring there may not be much left of the things that make the place worthwhile.
* Conclusion *
There is an old story, told among others by Boris Karloff in the film Targets, of the man who, having been warned that Death awaits him in Aleppo, goes to Antioch instead, only to find Death waiting for him there. Or maybe it's Damascus; either way, I'm sure you get the gist.
At the risk of over-dramatising our experience, we felt a bit like that. We chose to go to north rather than south Cyprus in the hope of being ahead of the touristic curve, but we were not. Scimitar-like, the curve was ahead of us, or at least keeping pace.
Despite this, there are still many things to see of great interest, and the culture of the place is unusual. The atmosphere is at least as much European as Middle Eastern, but the admixture of Middle Eastern is distinct and palpable. The mosques, the twin Turkish and TRNC flags that decorate every official building, the bazaar-like markets, and the occasional narghelis in cafés - all make Northern Cyprus just a little bit different from what one thinks of as the holiday-making Mediterranean norm. Add in the antiquities, mountains and wild flowers and it's hard not to recommend a visit, even now.
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