Cyprus at the crossroads
Legend has it that St Hilarion Castle has 101 rooms, the last of which is virtually impossible to find, but leads to an enchanted garden packed with treasure belonging to an ancient Cypriot queen. Unfortunately, those who find it fall into a deep sleep, only to awaken empty-handed among the barren rocks outside. Whatever the fiction of this Byzantine ruin, the fact of its fairytale location, perched like an eagle on the cliffs high up above Kyrenia, can’t be denied.
A refuge for 1,000 years, St Hilarion is one of three Crusader castles in Northern Cyprus. Once occupied by the armies of Richard I, they are sentinels of the Kyrenia range, a narrow blade of mountains separating the coast from the Mesaoria, the dry, dusty inland plain.
Nick Bointon moved to the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus two years ago, selling his outdoor activities business in mid-Wales for a new challenge in the Mediterranean. After obtaining military maps from the time of British rule on the island, he noticed a track that traced the crest of the Kyrenia range and set about unearthing it. Now he has waymarked the entire route for more than 240 kilometres from Cape Kormakitis (Koruçam) in the west to the tip of the Karpas peninsula in the east, creating the Kyrenian Mountain Trail.
‘Plenty of local people know and use parts of the trail and bring tourists here, but this is the first time those parts have been joined together as one,’ says Bointon. ‘It’s a sustainable route for walkers and cyclists that we can all use and where people can see the best of Northern Cypriot history, culture and wildlife.’
And there’s plenty to see along this high road across the backbone of Northern Cyprus. As well as cultural sites such as the Crusader castles, those travelling the Kyrenian Mountain Trail may see some of Cyprus’s 1,600 plant, 350 bird and 26 reptile species. The trail may also provide a lifeline for many of the villages close to the route, with opportunities for cafés and accommodation to capitalise on the passing trade.
Away from the soaring vultures and the scent of pines of the Kyrenia range is another road. It weaves eastwards beyond the urban sprawl of Kyrenia to where the countryside empties out into terracotta-coloured terrain, scattered with spiny bushes and sloping lazily down to the sea. On a 16-kilometre section towards Esentepe, more than 15 new tourism complexes have been built in the past three years. Facsimile villas and apartments scream for attention alongside golf courses and casinos. Billboards advertising new developments punctuate the highway. This ‘low road’ is another way in which tourism is progressing in this self-declared state, where isolation from the international community and its markets means that virtually the only commodity left to trade with is land.
Since the Turkish intervention in Cyprus in 1974, which precipitated the war between the predominantly Turkish Cypriot north and Greek Cypriot south, no other country has officially recognised the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. ‘We have more trade embargoes than Iraq,’ a waiter in Kyrenia tells me with a mixture of pride and frustration. Food imported from Turkey is cheaper than locally grown produce, effectively destroying local agriculture. Tourism is all that Northern Cyprus has left, but even this is hanging on by a thread.
Northern Cyprus’s tourism industry is unhealthily dependent on the UK, the origin of virtually all of its overseas visitors. But high prices, inconvenient flights and intense competition from other destinations in the Mediterranean has left Northern Cyprus with a shrinking market share; visitor numbers have dropped by more than a third since 2005.
Moreover, Britons are increasingly buying a slice of the sun instead of holidaying there. Many of the new tourism developments on the Esentepe road are priced in pounds, seemingly targeted at UK homeowners with equity burning a hole in their pockets. Not only does the sale of more villas mean fewer heads on pillows in hotels, but those who have bought them then invite their friends to stay, leaving the tourism industry with an even smaller slice of the diminishing cake. One in three hotel beds was filled in 2005; by this year, that had fallen to nearly one in four. In contrast, the Kyrenia-based British Residents Society, a lobbying and networking club for ex-pats, has seen its membership jump by more than a quarter since 2004.
Best-laid plans
Ironically, the construction boom was sparked by a 2004 proposal that was meant to solve the ‘Cyprus problem’ and pave the way for a newly unified island to enter the EU. Named after Kofi Annan, the former secretary general of the UN, the Annan Plan attempted to address many of the issues that have separated Greek and Turkish Cypriots for the past three decades. It proposed to establish a new bi-zonal and bi-communal United Republic of Cyprus – with two constituent states and a single Cypriot citizenship, flag, national anthem and currency.
But most importantly for many people, it would address the contentious issue of land. Since the 1974 war, Greek Cypriots who owned land in the north and were deported to the south have been waiting to claim it back. Matters were complicated by the arrival from Turkey of 100,000 settlers, many of whom were given farmland in the north.
With unravelling the land issue a precursor to unification, the Annan Plan resolved that disputed yet undeveloped land should be returned to its Greek Cypriot claimants, and that compensation should be offered where the land had been built on. The referendum on the Annan Plan was held against the background of high optimism in the north. However, it resulted in a stark reminder of the divisions between the two sides of the island. Turkish Cypriots voted 65 per cent in favour, while the plan was resoundingly rejected by 76 per cent of Greek Cypriots.
It sank to the bottom of the Mediterranean, along with any hopes of reconciliation and unification. Cyprus entered the EU in May 2004, but is officially represented only by the south. The island still casts a shadow over the EU as its only divided member.
But the Annan Plan did leave a legacy. Confident that a solution would one day be found, and fearful that this would almost certainly involve a return of undeveloped land to the Greek Cypriots, Northern Cyprus underwent a construction boom. The value of land that was previously worth virtually nothing went through the roof almost overnight. Developers quickly cashed in on the supply of land and the demand, particularly in the UK, for property overseas. It was a perfect market coincidence – available supply and insatiable demand – and developments such as those on the Esentepe road were the result.
The environmental cost of pursuing mass tourism to develop the country’s primary industry hasn’t gone unnoticed by the government. In an attempt to increase its commitment to sustainability, a separate Ministry of Environment and Natural Resources was established last year. Asım Vehbi, the Turkish Cypriot environment minister, is acutely aware of the challenges ahead. ‘We are only one year old and have lots of catching up to do,’ he says. ‘Maybe it would have been better if we had been formed ten years ago, but we have
to start from here’.
The failure of the 2004 referendum may have also inadvertently galvanised the Northern Cypriot environmental movement. For more than 30 years, Northern Cyprus has been a land of the displaced: a demographic mix of pre-1974 Turkish Cypriots, post-1974 Turkish Cypriot refugees from the south and Anatolian settlers from Turkey to the north. The subsequent preoccupation with finding a solution to the Cyprus problem, and the hopes and fears that accompanied it, left people unable to develop a sense of homeland in the north. This all changed with the scuppering of the Annan Plan.
‘I remember my father saying to me, “Next year, there will be a solution”,’ says Steve Abit, who runs the Bellapais Gardens Hotel, a stone’s throw from the Augustinian abbey of the same name in the foothills of the Kyrenia range. ‘Now I find myself saying the identical thing to my daughter and I am beginning to wonder whether she will do the same thing with her children.’
Abit’s is one of the many voices, both inside and outside the tourism industry, calling on the government to take the high road and use Northern Cyprus’s spectacular scenery and culture to rejuvenate tourism in the future. ‘The failure of the Annan Plan has made us wake up to the fact that we could be here for a while and that we should look after the place,’ he says. ‘This could be the land we give to our children, but what sort of a land will they inherit?’
Protecting the panhandle
Northern Cyprus’s high and low roads of tourism development are on a collision course that could have seismic implications for the country’s future. The Karpas peninsula, the sinuous panhandle that juts out from Cyprus’s northeast corner, is one of the last few truly wild places left in the Mediterranean. Beyond the village of Dipkarpaz is an empty land punctuated by the occasional vineyard and carob or olive grove, frequented by feral donkeys and fringed by lonely beaches that play host to loggerhead and green turtles.
But a political storm is brewing over this peaceful, isolated land following the government’s decision to provide electricity to the tip of the region. While the government is claiming that it’s just fulfilling its duty to supply power to its population, campaigners are suspicious of its motives. A turtle-nesting beach at Bafra Bay is already under threat from hotel development, and campaigners fear that introducing electricity is the first step towards mass tourism.
‘The government could have easily provided electricity to the Karpas from solar or wind power,’ says Süleyman Ergüclü, whose newspaper, Kibris, is spearheading a campaign to protect the peninsula. ‘In Karpas, we have the possibility of showcasing tourism that will support the environment and the local people, but we are worried that the government may have other ideas.’
Such fears aren’t unfounded. In August, a request was made for government support for a major development in the Karpas. The £250million Romeo Bay Golf and Marina Resort would see the creation of a mini tourist town. An 18-hole golf course, golf hotel and health spa would be the centrepieces of the 650-hectare site, which would also include a hospital, two further hotels, 300 villas, 100 apartments, an organic farm and a training centre, together offering beds for 4,700 guests and employment for 400.
The government is in a difficult position, needing to invest in its only real source of foreign income on the one hand and to protect its environment on the other. Asım Vehbi is adamant about which hand is leading. ‘There is no question of our lack of commitment to the Karpas,’ he says. ‘It is a national park and we have designated three protected areas there. In 2004 and 2005, two cabinet decrees were put in place to protect its fragile ecology. There are now strict rules relating to the development of coastlines, farmland, forestry, national parks, natural and archaeological sites, ecotourism and human settlements.’
Others, such as Ergüclü, remain unconvinced. ‘The Karpas is not about Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots fighting over land, it is about a threat to a place that is precious for the whole world,’ he says. ‘If we lose the Karpas, then we won’t need an Environment Ministry – there will be no environment left worth protecting.’
As recent demonstrations on the streets of the town of Famagusta show, feelings are running high over the Karpas. Here, as in the rest of Northern Cyprus, one outcome of 30 years of economic isolation is that some places remain unaffected by the worst excesses of the tourism development that has blighted the south. The country stands at a crossroads, and a choice between sustainable and mass tourism. At a time when many tourists are becoming increasingly discerning about where they spend their money in the crowded Mediterranean market, many see the high road as the only road.
Co-ordinates
Martyn Varley’s trip was organised by the North Cyprus Tourism Centre in conjunction with Cyprus Turkish Airlines and the Cyprus Turkish Tourism and Travel Agent’s Association. He stayed at Bellapais Gardens (www.bellapaisgardens.com).
When to go
Temperatures in mid-summer can reach the high 30s and rainfall peaks in winter, so spring and autumn are generally the best times to visit. Spring is particularly popular as this is when the citrus trees and other plants burst into flower, carpeting the island in colour.
Getting there
Cyprus Turkish Airlines (www.kthy.net) flies to Ercan airport, which is located about 12 kilometres from the capital, Lefkosa, from several UK airports. Tickets start at around £135 one way. All flights to Ercan must first touch down on the Turkish mainland.
Further information
For more information and a list of tour operators that travel to Northern Cyprus, contact the North Cyprus Tourism Centre (020 7631 1930, info@northcyprus.cc, www.northcyprus.cc).
December 2007
A refuge for 1,000 years, St Hilarion is one of three Crusader castles in Northern Cyprus. Once occupied by the armies of Richard I, they are sentinels of the Kyrenia range, a narrow blade of mountains separating the coast from the Mesaoria, the dry, dusty inland plain.
Nick Bointon moved to the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus two years ago, selling his outdoor activities business in mid-Wales for a new challenge in the Mediterranean. After obtaining military maps from the time of British rule on the island, he noticed a track that traced the crest of the Kyrenia range and set about unearthing it. Now he has waymarked the entire route for more than 240 kilometres from Cape Kormakitis (Koruçam) in the west to the tip of the Karpas peninsula in the east, creating the Kyrenian Mountain Trail.
‘Plenty of local people know and use parts of the trail and bring tourists here, but this is the first time those parts have been joined together as one,’ says Bointon. ‘It’s a sustainable route for walkers and cyclists that we can all use and where people can see the best of Northern Cypriot history, culture and wildlife.’
And there’s plenty to see along this high road across the backbone of Northern Cyprus. As well as cultural sites such as the Crusader castles, those travelling the Kyrenian Mountain Trail may see some of Cyprus’s 1,600 plant, 350 bird and 26 reptile species. The trail may also provide a lifeline for many of the villages close to the route, with opportunities for cafés and accommodation to capitalise on the passing trade.
Away from the soaring vultures and the scent of pines of the Kyrenia range is another road. It weaves eastwards beyond the urban sprawl of Kyrenia to where the countryside empties out into terracotta-coloured terrain, scattered with spiny bushes and sloping lazily down to the sea. On a 16-kilometre section towards Esentepe, more than 15 new tourism complexes have been built in the past three years. Facsimile villas and apartments scream for attention alongside golf courses and casinos. Billboards advertising new developments punctuate the highway. This ‘low road’ is another way in which tourism is progressing in this self-declared state, where isolation from the international community and its markets means that virtually the only commodity left to trade with is land.
Since the Turkish intervention in Cyprus in 1974, which precipitated the war between the predominantly Turkish Cypriot north and Greek Cypriot south, no other country has officially recognised the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. ‘We have more trade embargoes than Iraq,’ a waiter in Kyrenia tells me with a mixture of pride and frustration. Food imported from Turkey is cheaper than locally grown produce, effectively destroying local agriculture. Tourism is all that Northern Cyprus has left, but even this is hanging on by a thread.
Northern Cyprus’s tourism industry is unhealthily dependent on the UK, the origin of virtually all of its overseas visitors. But high prices, inconvenient flights and intense competition from other destinations in the Mediterranean has left Northern Cyprus with a shrinking market share; visitor numbers have dropped by more than a third since 2005.
Moreover, Britons are increasingly buying a slice of the sun instead of holidaying there. Many of the new tourism developments on the Esentepe road are priced in pounds, seemingly targeted at UK homeowners with equity burning a hole in their pockets. Not only does the sale of more villas mean fewer heads on pillows in hotels, but those who have bought them then invite their friends to stay, leaving the tourism industry with an even smaller slice of the diminishing cake. One in three hotel beds was filled in 2005; by this year, that had fallen to nearly one in four. In contrast, the Kyrenia-based British Residents Society, a lobbying and networking club for ex-pats, has seen its membership jump by more than a quarter since 2004.
Best-laid plans
Ironically, the construction boom was sparked by a 2004 proposal that was meant to solve the ‘Cyprus problem’ and pave the way for a newly unified island to enter the EU. Named after Kofi Annan, the former secretary general of the UN, the Annan Plan attempted to address many of the issues that have separated Greek and Turkish Cypriots for the past three decades. It proposed to establish a new bi-zonal and bi-communal United Republic of Cyprus – with two constituent states and a single Cypriot citizenship, flag, national anthem and currency.
But most importantly for many people, it would address the contentious issue of land. Since the 1974 war, Greek Cypriots who owned land in the north and were deported to the south have been waiting to claim it back. Matters were complicated by the arrival from Turkey of 100,000 settlers, many of whom were given farmland in the north.
With unravelling the land issue a precursor to unification, the Annan Plan resolved that disputed yet undeveloped land should be returned to its Greek Cypriot claimants, and that compensation should be offered where the land had been built on. The referendum on the Annan Plan was held against the background of high optimism in the north. However, it resulted in a stark reminder of the divisions between the two sides of the island. Turkish Cypriots voted 65 per cent in favour, while the plan was resoundingly rejected by 76 per cent of Greek Cypriots.
It sank to the bottom of the Mediterranean, along with any hopes of reconciliation and unification. Cyprus entered the EU in May 2004, but is officially represented only by the south. The island still casts a shadow over the EU as its only divided member.
But the Annan Plan did leave a legacy. Confident that a solution would one day be found, and fearful that this would almost certainly involve a return of undeveloped land to the Greek Cypriots, Northern Cyprus underwent a construction boom. The value of land that was previously worth virtually nothing went through the roof almost overnight. Developers quickly cashed in on the supply of land and the demand, particularly in the UK, for property overseas. It was a perfect market coincidence – available supply and insatiable demand – and developments such as those on the Esentepe road were the result.
The environmental cost of pursuing mass tourism to develop the country’s primary industry hasn’t gone unnoticed by the government. In an attempt to increase its commitment to sustainability, a separate Ministry of Environment and Natural Resources was established last year. Asım Vehbi, the Turkish Cypriot environment minister, is acutely aware of the challenges ahead. ‘We are only one year old and have lots of catching up to do,’ he says. ‘Maybe it would have been better if we had been formed ten years ago, but we have
to start from here’.
The failure of the 2004 referendum may have also inadvertently galvanised the Northern Cypriot environmental movement. For more than 30 years, Northern Cyprus has been a land of the displaced: a demographic mix of pre-1974 Turkish Cypriots, post-1974 Turkish Cypriot refugees from the south and Anatolian settlers from Turkey to the north. The subsequent preoccupation with finding a solution to the Cyprus problem, and the hopes and fears that accompanied it, left people unable to develop a sense of homeland in the north. This all changed with the scuppering of the Annan Plan.
‘I remember my father saying to me, “Next year, there will be a solution”,’ says Steve Abit, who runs the Bellapais Gardens Hotel, a stone’s throw from the Augustinian abbey of the same name in the foothills of the Kyrenia range. ‘Now I find myself saying the identical thing to my daughter and I am beginning to wonder whether she will do the same thing with her children.’
Abit’s is one of the many voices, both inside and outside the tourism industry, calling on the government to take the high road and use Northern Cyprus’s spectacular scenery and culture to rejuvenate tourism in the future. ‘The failure of the Annan Plan has made us wake up to the fact that we could be here for a while and that we should look after the place,’ he says. ‘This could be the land we give to our children, but what sort of a land will they inherit?’
Start the slideshow (8 pictures)
Protecting the panhandle
Northern Cyprus’s high and low roads of tourism development are on a collision course that could have seismic implications for the country’s future. The Karpas peninsula, the sinuous panhandle that juts out from Cyprus’s northeast corner, is one of the last few truly wild places left in the Mediterranean. Beyond the village of Dipkarpaz is an empty land punctuated by the occasional vineyard and carob or olive grove, frequented by feral donkeys and fringed by lonely beaches that play host to loggerhead and green turtles.
But a political storm is brewing over this peaceful, isolated land following the government’s decision to provide electricity to the tip of the region. While the government is claiming that it’s just fulfilling its duty to supply power to its population, campaigners are suspicious of its motives. A turtle-nesting beach at Bafra Bay is already under threat from hotel development, and campaigners fear that introducing electricity is the first step towards mass tourism.
‘The government could have easily provided electricity to the Karpas from solar or wind power,’ says Süleyman Ergüclü, whose newspaper, Kibris, is spearheading a campaign to protect the peninsula. ‘In Karpas, we have the possibility of showcasing tourism that will support the environment and the local people, but we are worried that the government may have other ideas.’
Such fears aren’t unfounded. In August, a request was made for government support for a major development in the Karpas. The £250million Romeo Bay Golf and Marina Resort would see the creation of a mini tourist town. An 18-hole golf course, golf hotel and health spa would be the centrepieces of the 650-hectare site, which would also include a hospital, two further hotels, 300 villas, 100 apartments, an organic farm and a training centre, together offering beds for 4,700 guests and employment for 400.
The government is in a difficult position, needing to invest in its only real source of foreign income on the one hand and to protect its environment on the other. Asım Vehbi is adamant about which hand is leading. ‘There is no question of our lack of commitment to the Karpas,’ he says. ‘It is a national park and we have designated three protected areas there. In 2004 and 2005, two cabinet decrees were put in place to protect its fragile ecology. There are now strict rules relating to the development of coastlines, farmland, forestry, national parks, natural and archaeological sites, ecotourism and human settlements.’
Others, such as Ergüclü, remain unconvinced. ‘The Karpas is not about Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots fighting over land, it is about a threat to a place that is precious for the whole world,’ he says. ‘If we lose the Karpas, then we won’t need an Environment Ministry – there will be no environment left worth protecting.’
As recent demonstrations on the streets of the town of Famagusta show, feelings are running high over the Karpas. Here, as in the rest of Northern Cyprus, one outcome of 30 years of economic isolation is that some places remain unaffected by the worst excesses of the tourism development that has blighted the south. The country stands at a crossroads, and a choice between sustainable and mass tourism. At a time when many tourists are becoming increasingly discerning about where they spend their money in the crowded Mediterranean market, many see the high road as the only road.
Co-ordinates
Martyn Varley’s trip was organised by the North Cyprus Tourism Centre in conjunction with Cyprus Turkish Airlines and the Cyprus Turkish Tourism and Travel Agent’s Association. He stayed at Bellapais Gardens (www.bellapaisgardens.com).
When to go
Temperatures in mid-summer can reach the high 30s and rainfall peaks in winter, so spring and autumn are generally the best times to visit. Spring is particularly popular as this is when the citrus trees and other plants burst into flower, carpeting the island in colour.
Getting there
Cyprus Turkish Airlines (www.kthy.net) flies to Ercan airport, which is located about 12 kilometres from the capital, Lefkosa, from several UK airports. Tickets start at around £135 one way. All flights to Ercan must first touch down on the Turkish mainland.
Further information
For more information and a list of tour operators that travel to Northern Cyprus, contact the North Cyprus Tourism Centre (020 7631 1930, info@northcyprus.cc, www.northcyprus.cc).
December 2007
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