By JOANNA TWEEDY
Long forgotten: Northern Cyprus has never enjoyed the same visitor numbers as its southern neighbour
My guide can't stop himself. Yes, I know guides should be animated - it's their job.
But as I track in the dusty footsteps of Umut, my steer around ancient St Hilarion Castle, a crumbling fortress so stirring it apparently inspired Walt Disney's fairytale palace, the 'meep, meeep!' thing begins to, well, grate.
There are no tourist crowds to be parted and the few people that we do encounter, often British, look startled by the Road Runner routine. When he follows it with: 'Large lorry coming through!', they turn and look at me. Who gifted Timmy Mallett to Northern Cyprus, I wonder.
I quickly warm to Umut, though, because his heart is firmly pinned to his short sleeves; he is an open book on a destination that knows what it is to be closed.
When a thin vein of UN territory, the Green Line, was jammed between the northern and southern territories to force peace in 1974, the Turkish portion was sent freewheeling from the tourist map.
The strange stalemate that has ensued leaves Northern Cyprus mourning untold sums in lost tourism revenue. Without official recognition, there are still no direct flights from the UK and the land border was jemmied open only in 2004. Visitor figures are fewer than 100,000 Brits last year compared to 1.3million in the south.
Deciding against a touch-down in Turkey, I flew into Larnaca in the south of the island and booked a driver to take me over the border near Nicosia.
Back in time: Jo Tweedy enjoys history and beauty at St Hilarion Castle
Joining the cavalcade at passport control, two sights quickly rear up: a large sign reading: 'Happy that I'm a Turk' and, beyond it, two huge flags, one Turkish, one Turkish-Cypriot, tattooed on to the mountains. Bold as brass, they rankle at Southern Cypriots, who view them as visual affronts that salt the wound.
So, how does such a thorny political situation affect holidaymakers? In many cases, it doesn't.
Most visitors enjoy this friendly region in all its loveliness and, blatant patriotic references to Turkey aside, probably don't even realise they're lounging around on a rusting, 36-year-old can of worms.
And the fact Northern Cyprus isn't internationally acknowledged has much to do with why you'll have a great time here.
Secret is too strong a word; there are plenty of British accents floating around Kyrenia, the most popular tourist area but, just 40 miles from the Turkish mainland and 70 miles from Syria, it feels more exotic than your average Mediterranean haunt.
The call to prayer echoes five times daily: 'Although we're not strict Muslims,' Umut tells me. 'Most people go twice a year.'
In recent years Turkish-owned casinos and five-star hotels have added a (not necessarily appealing) sheen of glamour to the town. The harbour, the evening strolling ground of the tourist set, remains a more humble setting.
A horseshoe of converted carob warehouses turned restaurants, it is bookended by the warm sandstone of Kyrenia Castle. Drenched in sunlight with fishing boats bobbing on the violet waters, it is a beguiling scene.
Other places evoke similar, doe-eyed affection. Bellapais, a village off the main Kyrenia road, is as ambrosial as its name suggests.
Lawrence Durrell, brother of Gerald, spent three years here in the late Fifties and his memoir, Bitter Lemons Of Cyprus, does for Bellapais what his sibling did for Corfu with My Family And Other Animals.
Lush oasis: Bellapais proves to be as ambrosial as its name suggests.
If Kyrenia bustles and Bellapais gently woos, then the slender handle of land known as the Karpass Peninsula remains Northern Cyprus's desolate hinterland.
Drive east of Kyrenia and the territory narrows, and forested hills make way for the dry, golden flat of the Mesarya Plain. Suddenly, there are more donkeys than people.
At the island's most north-easterly tip, the wild beaches provide a nesting ground for endangered green turtles and the lone Monastery of Apostolos Andreas still draws emotional visits from Cypriots on both sides of the divide.
On the east coast, the sunscorched ruins at Salamis remain one of Cyprus's most famous archaeological sites. In nearby Famagusta, architectural war wounds from battles past can still be seen in the tumbledown buildings of the walled Old Town.
Finally, we pass Maras, the Greek tourist village that has remained eerily untouched since its residents fled Turkish advances in 1974. Umut wonders aloud what the future might hold. 'As a boy, people said to me, the situation will change soon. But now I'm nearly 40 and it's still the same.'
Northern Cyprus has all the qualities we covet in a Mediterranean holiday but it's the sense of living history, still unfolding, that will really get you.
Travel Facts
Anatolian Sky Holidays (08448 757681, www.anatoliansky.co.uk) offers seven nights at the Savoy Ottoman Hotel in Kyrenia from £659pp on a B&B basis including Atlas Jet flights to Ercan (touching down at Istanbul) and transfers.
Other tour operators include Cyprus Paradise (020 8343 8888, www.cyprusparadise.com), Green Island (020 7637 7338, www.greenislandholidays.com) and Direct Traveller (0845 123 5383, www.directtraveller.com).
source: dailymail
Monday, November 22, 2010
Beyond the divide: Northern Cyprus is a hidden delight
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment