A Day in the North: Famagusta and Salamis

Bright and early Wednesday morning we piled into one of the small buses and headed to Larnaca, where we got onto a different bus (with a tour guide) and headed to the Turkish occupied part of Cyprus.  

This trip was different than the previous two times I'd been across the Green Line into the Turkish occupied part of the country.  

Crossing into Turkish territory in the Old City of Nicosia isn’t as nerve wracking as one would think.  There are always a slew of people getting their passport slips (the Turks can’t stamp your actual passport because, if they do, you won’t be allowed back into southern Cyprus or allowed into any other country in the EU since the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus is not a recognized state).  And once you’ve crossed the border, you find yourself in a very touristy area where you can purchase an imitation of virtually any designer item you could dream of.

 As long as you stay in those first few blocks of bustling businesses, there’s nothing to be afraid of or worried about.  But, heading to Salamis and Famagusta, I had no idea what the area would be like.  I imagined something far less touristy and a little more representative of what life in the TRNC is actually like. 

Fortunately, I was wrong.

First we passed through Famagusta on our way to Salamis.  Famagusta was the main port of Cyprus until the Turkish invasion and occupation in 1974.  When the Turks came into Famagusta, the town was immediately evacuated.  Dinner was left on the table. Lights were left on. 

 Famagusta became an instant ghost town.

The UN has since taken control of a portion of Famagusta, making the area a dead zone.  No one is allowed to enter. So the ghost town of Famagusta has been eerily preserved since 1974.  But there is a portion of Famagusta that people are allowed to visit, and that is where we were headed after Salamis.

Salamis happens to be the largest, most complete ruins excavated and preserved in Cyprus. 

There is something ironic in this.  The Turks have done a remarkable job of destroying much of the areas they occupied.  They have done a fairly complete job of stripping religious houses of all icons and reliquaries; virtually gutting these historic buildings and turning them into bare-boned Mosques, stables or even garages for their cars.  Many of these churches have been completely destroyed. A shadowy shell of what they used to be.

Yet Salamis remains unscathed.  In fact, excavation and preservation continues to this day in areas around the site. 

The first part of Salamis we visited was the amphitheater.  Now, an amphitheater is an amphitheater. And they tend to look the same no matter where you see one.  But this one had a couple of interesting features that I was unfamiliar with.

Towards the front of the stage, was what looked like an altar.  We were informed that this was a sacrificial altar.  Before every performance on the stage, items were placed on the altar for Dionysus.  Now, it has always been my understanding that Dionysus was the God of wine and revelry.  I had never known that he was also the patron God of the theater.

Wine?  Theater?  Dionysus is a Greek god after my own heart!

Situated to the left and right of the stage were two headless statues standing sentinel.  We learned that these were the Muses of Comedy and Tragedy.  Again, I had no idea…

I think most people are familiar with the comedy and tragedy masks that are often used to symbolize theater and the performing arts.  I had always thought that they were simply representative of masks that were used in Greek theater to help convey an actor’s emotions.  Since amphitheaters were so big, the masks were needed to convey emotions on a larger, clearer scale.  But apparently there were Muses who also represented comedy and tragedy.

And here I thought I was well informed on most things theater related.

From here we visited an area referred to as the Gymnasium.  It was an area surrounded by columns and it never ceases to amaze me how something, like a column, can withstand thousands of years of wear and tear from the weather and man-made forces.  But, in America for example, many things fall to pieces within 50 years.

We proceeded to wander around the ruins, exploring rooms and paths.  We climbed.  I felt like a kid on the world’s greatest jungle gym or in the world’s most expansive tree or on the most elaborate mountain trail. 

When we got to Famagusta, we were given two hours to eat lunch and walk around.  I have to confess that I was nervous to eat or drink anything while I was in the northern part of Cyprus.  All I could think of were the Russians who drank vodka that was made in this same area, only to discover that it was laced with methanol, resulting in the death of several and illness of many. 

But it was hot and we’d been traveling a lot.  I needed food.  So we went to the most touristy/busiest restaurant we could find and I ordered a veggie burger (because you can’t go wrong with vegetables, right?). 

 Apparently in the TRNC, a veggie burger means a fried egg on a bun.  Strange.

After we finished eating, we wandered up to the Famagusta wall.  We took some pictures on a lion that has stood guarding the wall since the Venetian era and then we climbed to the top of the wall to overlook Famagusta and the sea. 

It really was a remarkable view.  We weren’t exceedingly high above sea level, but the wall extended really far in either direction.  And when you turned to look at the city of Famagusta, you could see the destruction and dilapidation of a once beautiful, powerful and important city.

It was enough to break a heart.  And to be grateful that, at least in my lifetime, I’ve never had to experience such horrific atrocities as a forceful and more than occasionally violent occupation.