Day 1 in Cyprus: Crossing the border in Nicosia

I arrived in Cyprus on Tuesday evening, picked up my rental car at Larnaca Airport, and drove to my hotel north of the city centre. Both the car and the location of my hotel came in handy the next day when I drove up to spend a day in Nicosia. Somewhat confusingly, locals and road signs refer to the Cypriot capital not as Nicosia but as Lefkosia, which is an older name likely derived from the words “leukós” (meaning white) and either “theós” or “theá” (meaning god and goddess, respectively). It is quite possible and fitting that the name recalled the sea goddess Leucothea.

I parked the car near the market on Constanza Bastion, which forms the southeastern end of the city’s extensive Venetian walls. The decision to build these walls was made in 1567, but they were still incomplete when the Ottomans began their siege of Nicosia in 1570; the city lasted for over a month and a half. From the bastion I walked to the Liberty Monument, dedicated to the anti-British EOKA fighters, whose tough guerilla resistance eventually led to the UK recognising Cyprus’s independence in 1959. The Liberty Monument stands just across the road from an old aqueduct and down the road from Famagusta Gate, another portion of Nicosia’s Venetian fortifications. Once I reached the gate, I turned around again and made my way to the Archbishop’s Palace, which forms a single sprawling city block along with two cathedrals and two museums.

The weather was a bit dreary, so I popped into the Byzantine Museum for what I thought would be a relatively quick visit. It was not. The museum contains religious artwork spanning hundreds of years in Cyprus, acting as both a gallery and a crash course to the complicated origins of the island’s identity: Although the Umayyads invaded Cyprus in the 650s, they and the Byzantines established a condominium over the strategic island, which lasted for almost three hundred years until the Byzantines reconquered it. Following another two hundred years of Byzantine rule, Cyprus was rather brutally captured by the Crusaders, who were in turn ousted by Venice. It is perhaps unsurprising that having so much time to absorb western influences (from 1192 to 1489 under the Crusaders and from 1489 to 1571 under Venice), Cypriot art absorbed some features from across the sea, such as western understandings of perspective.

Many of the artworks at the museum, including entire church ceilings, were recovered from art smugglers and their clients, who acquired these priceless works after the Turkish invasion of Northern Cyprus in 1974 led to an almost lawless ransacking and pilfering of Christian places of worship. I did not visit the second museum, which is dedicated to Cypriot folk art, but I did enter both cathedrals on either side of the Archbishop’s Palace: The Cathedral of Saint John, where the Archbishops of Cyprus are enthroned, and the new Cathedral of the Apostle Barnabas.

I have heard Nicosia called “Europe’s last divided capital,” referring to the city’s partition between the Republic of Cyprus and the internationally unrecognised Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. Since the Turkish invasion, the island has been split in two, with a UN-monitored buffer zone running through Nicosia itself. While only troops deployed by the UN are allowed in this demilitarised zone, one can walk freely between it and the southern side, as it includes key infrastructure like roads and roundabouts. However, one can only enter Northern Cyprus at dedicated border crossings, such as the one on Ledras Street in the very centre of Nicosia.

I crossed the border after lunch. It was not really a big deal: my passport was checked very cursorily on both sides, and I did not receive a stamp. The Turkish side of Nicosia immediately struck me as less residential and more touristy. The crossroads right behind the checkpoint was teeming with Turkish sweets, and the roads leading from it were flanked by cafés and shops. The most commercial part of Turkish Nicosia was Büyük Han, an old caravanserai that now holds a whole host of boutiques, cafés and restaurants. Just across the road from this building stands another, smaller caravanserai called Kumarcılar Han, which appeared somewhat less bustling.

After walking around the caravanserais, I ambled east towards Selimiye Mosque. Originally, the building was a cathedral dedicated to Saint Sophia and served as the coronation site of Cypriot kings; its Christian origins are still evident in its cross-shaped foundations and Gothic arches. While none of the original paintings or sculptures remain, one of the side chapels now houses tombstones from the Christian period, which display the likenesses of the people who lay buried under them. Cyprus was – as a historical aside – under Turkish control for over three hundred years. In 1878, the island became a British protectorate in exchange for Britain supporting the Ottomans at the Congress of Berlin, which involved the promise that Britain would use its fleet at Cyprus to defend the Ottoman Empire if attacked by Russia.

As the Turkish baths were closed for renovations, the rest of my stops in northern Nicosia were all outdoors. Walking past Sarayönü Mosque, I arrived at Atatürk Square with its Venetian column and British palace, and I went as far as Kyrenia Gate in the north before turning around again. By the time I returned to the southern side, the weather had definitively turned cloudy. During my lunch, there had been a proper downpour, and I had to move indoors because the rain had started streaming and splashing from the marquee onto the ground next to me. For the next two hours, the sun occasionally broke through, but the clouds finally closed it out a little after three.

Since I still had quite a bit of time until I would have to begin my drive back to Larnaca, I decided to visit the Cyprus Museum. This extensive collection begins with artefacts from around 9,000 BCE and shows how Cypriot art evolved from that time until the Roman era. Cyprus was always a crossroads of different cultures and civilisations, having a strong connection to Minos before being settled by the Mycenaeans and, in some parts, the Phoenicians. The island went on to change hands between Egyptians, Hittites, Assyrians, Persians, Alexander’s Greeks, and Romans, with a few of these ruling Cyprus on several occasions. Cypriot art reflects not only these influences but also indigenous inspiration, especially in the domain of its idiosyncratic idols.

My final stop in Nicosia was Shacolas Tower, which houses a small museum and a panoramic viewing area on the eleventh floor. From there, I could see the mountains above the city’s northern edge, which had only come into view in the morning while I was driving, but disappeared as I explored the city.