20 Hours in Northern Cyprus: A Guide for Burocracy Inspired Travel

I've had to rush off to Northern Cyprus twice in the past two months due to a brilliant Turkish law that states applications for work permits must be filed from outside of the country. I had met several people who said Northern Cyprus was the best place to go for this. It is possible to fly into Northern Cyprus in the morning and fly out in the evening, however, the plane arrives at between 10:30 and 11:00 AM, it is about a 20 minute drive from the airport and the Turkish Consulate is only open until 11:30 AM. I decided it was best to stay overnight to avoid possible problems caused by flight delays and other unforseen obstacles.

The plane arrived at the convienent hour of 11PM. I looked for a dolmus but there weren't any. Then I asked about taxi rates. They were about $20. I asked several different taxis hoping that someone would offer a lower price but none of them did. Finally, I chose one and asked him to take me to a decent (but inexpensive) pension in Lefkosa. The Rough Guide to Cyprus says the following about pensions in Lefkosa:

"Only for the sake of completeness might one mention the dozen or so dilapidated pensions tucked in various corners of the old city. With nostalgic Anatolian names like Antalya and Bursa Uludag, these are intended for off-duty soldiers, shoppers and job-seekers from the mainland, and signs promising low monthly rates, plus the pong of bad drains, do not bespeak Sheraton comfort. Of interest only to compulsive slummers."

Of course, the other option was a very expensive luxury hotel. "Well," I thought, "All the pensions couldn't be that bad. I'm not too fussy and it is only for one night...."

The first pension the taxi driver took me to had the comforting name of Aile Pansiyon (family pension). I imagined a nice Turkish housewife keeping everything clean and forcing gallons of tea down my throat. Instead, the door was opened by a rather crusty guy. The pension smelled like urine and the floor hadn't been slept in quite a while. The price was about $12 a night. I asked the taxi driver to take me somewhere else.

The next stop was the Altin Aile Pansiyon (The Golden Family Pension). There were a bunch of guys sitting around smoking and drinking in the lounge. I went up and looked at the room. It did not smell like piss and I figured since there were four beds in the room, at least one of them would be clean. The price was $10. By now it was past midnight so I decided to stay. I locked the door and chose a bed. I was grateful the night was cold because it would make it harder for bugs to survive. Grasping my mag light in one hand (it has a good weight to it), I tried to sleep. Around 1 AM there was a knock.

"Who is it?" I yelled, thinking that the guy at the desk had lied about me having the room to myself and that I would have to argue in Turkish.

"Can I come in?" said the male voice on the other side of the door.

"NO!!!!!!" I yelled back.

"Come on I just want to be friendly!" I heard him rattle the door handle. I gripped my mag-light a little tighter. Eventually he went away.

I got up bright and early and left. Filing my application at the Turkish Consulate was surprisingly easy. The lines were small. There were 3 counters. The last counter said "notarist" so I went to the first counter. The first counter told me to go to the last counter. Since the last was a notarist, I figured I must have misunderstood and went to the second counter. That counter told me to go to the first counter. The first counter sent me to the last counter. "But the last counter is a notarist!" I said. They told me to go there anyway. The woman at the last counter told me to go to the first counter. "But they told me to come here!" I complained.

"But I'm a NOTARIST!!!" the lady answered with exasperation in her voice. She called the man at the first counter and yelled at him. I went back to the first counter. The man at the first counter grudgingly processed my papers and told me to call in 2 months. Even with the feeble attempt at giving me the runaround, the whole process took 15 minutes.

My plane wasn't until 7 PM so I decided to try to find something interesting to entertain myself with. I wandered around a bit and came to the conclusion that Lefkosa is a ghost town. To understand why it is a ghost town requires a little knowledge of Cyprus' history.

Historical Background

I think there are at least two different versions of Cyprus' history. Since all my info is from Northern Cyprus tourist brochures it is probably very different from the Southern Cyprus version. Some things sound a little fishy to me but I don't know, maybe they are true. Until 1960, Cyprus was populated and/or conquered and/or occupied by various people including the Anatolians, Syrians, Ottomans, Persians, Romans and Brits. According to the brochure, the Greeks never invaded or dominated Cyprus. However, in the time line they have 475 - 325 BC labelled as the Classical period where Alexander the Great destroyed the Persian empire (who were the previous occupants of Cyprus). After the Classical period came the Hellenistic period from 325 BC - 58 BC. During this time Alexander the Great's generals were dividing up the Greek Empire (of which apparently Cyprus had some how ended up not being a part of????) . Ptolomaus won and ruled over Cyprus (which still managed not to be part of Greece).... OK... so history has never been my best subject but doesn't this seem a bit strange? Eventually it became part of the British Empire and stayed that way until 1960. After 1960 all hell broke loose. The people of Cyprus managed to divide themselves into two camps. There were the Turkish Cypriots (who I'm assuming are descendants from the Ottomans but who knows, maybe they are descendants from the Anatolians who arrived in Cyprus in 7000 - 3900 BC) and the Greek Cypriots (who, according to my travel brochure, is not actually ethnically Greek but speak Greek and are Greek Orthodox.) ummmm WHATEVER!!!!!!!!!

Having gained independance, some people decided they didn't actually want it but would rather be a part of Greece. The trouble makers on the Greek side were the EOKA. This group caused a lot of violence.... Even The Rough Guide, which likes the Greek Cyprus better than the Turkish Cyprus thinks so. The Turkish Cypriots ended up withdrawing into a group of TMT (the Turkish equivalent of the EOKA) protected enclaves. The Greek Cypriots restricted traffic of goods and people across the borders of these enclaves. In 1974 war broke out when EOKA-B (the successor to EOKA) staged a coup with the help of the Greek army (somewhere I read that the CIA was involved, too). The Turkish army joined in. After lots of people were killed, the island was split with the Turkish Cypriots living in the North and the Greeks in the South. Lefkosa/ Nicosia was split down the middle. There is a buffer zone between the two sides. Close to the border, a lot of the houses were abandoned by their Greek occupants. Now a lot of the buildings (which were at one point very beautiful) are in ruins. There is a Greek Orthodox church which is now a Turkish army zone. Nancy told me that after the war, lots of Turks went to Cyprus and came back with beautiful expensive tea sets and other household items that were available for very little money in Northern Cyprus. Just another ugly war story... There have been talks about reunification but from what I've heard, there has been too much damage violence and death. Too much hate has been sown and continues to be carefully cultivated.

In Greece, this guy started talking to Jeri and I while we were at the travel agency. He was very friendly at first until he found out we were living in Istanbul. "I'm from Cyprus!" he said with venom in his voice as he glared at us. Then he turned his back and would have nothing to do with us. According to Samantha, a girl I met on the plane, the South Cyprus border has photos of people who were killed posted on the fence and red paint thrown everywhere to discourage people from crossing. She had her passport thrown back at her when she tried to cross from one side to the other. The guard had said, "You've been there once, you don't need to go again." On the Turkish side, I saw a large billboard with "Hey Turks, don't forget the massacre!" written on it. Why are people so into not getting along? Does anyone else find it pathetic and frightening that in so many places in the world, people would rather kill or condone killing than just learn to live with each other?! HMMMPH!!!!

So that is how things stand at the moment. Lefkosa is a terrible place. It is shoddy and over priced. There are hardly any women wandering around, just bunches of soldiers and skanky guys. There are a few tourist sites: a mosque (converted from an Orthodox church), a Turkish bath, and a few museums. However, the atmosphere was so oppressive, I couldn't wait to leave. Unfortunatly, I had 9 hours before my plane left. I noticed a tourist information office and decided to try to find out where I could stay since I would have to spend another night in Cyprus in two months when my visa was ready.

The tourist information office was in a guard tower in the old city walls. I walked in and was greeted by a very friendly tourist information guy who was very happy to see me. I guess there aren't many tourists in Lefkosa. "Hello! Welcome! How can I help you?" he beamed.

"Could you tell where I can find a decent pension in this town?"

"There are lots of pensions here but none of them are fit for a woman," was his answer. "or for a man or even a dog " I added to myself. He told me to stay in Girne and gave me a map. Then he gave me a copy of a brochure about Northern Cyprus.

"Here is some information about Northern Cyprus.... and here... " he produced another brochure, "is a listing of all the hotels... and this is a book which has restaurants, hotels and other useful information... and this... is about the herbarium... and this... is our oldest brochure... and this.... has really beautiful photographs but it is in German... ah here is the English one.... and here is a map of Lefkosha... and here are some souvenir stickers for you..." (He handed me about 6 of them.) "... and here is a magazine we put out... and here.... is a bag to put your brochures in!!!!" He also offered me free postcards when I bought stamps (which I did).

"Uh... thanks," I said. Then I remembered another question. "Say, are there dolmuses that go to the airport?" I really wanted to avoid shelling out $20 for a taxi.

"No, unfortunately not. But, you can take a bus." He showed me the bus station and wrote the names of three towns whose busses went by the airport. The busses don't post the airport as a destination. I have this theory that the taxi company has its own mafia that will shoot the knee caps of anyone who interferes with their overpriced airport transportation monopoly. I was extremely grateful for this bus information. The tourist info guy also reccomended that I leave Lefkosa ASAP and go to Girne. He told me where to catch a dolmus and how much it would cost. I took his advice and headed to Girne.

Girne is nice. It is on the water (stunning blue Mediterranean). Apparently, Girne hasn't gotten the news that it isn't Greek. There is a pretty Greek Church, winding cobblestone streets, and nice cafes and pensions. This could also be the Brittish influence. There are a lot of Brits wandering around Girne. There is also a good variety of restaurants including Chinese, Indian, Italian, French and Continental. I walked around for a little while. There weren't many people because it was off season. At last I settled in a cafe with a cappucino and a pastry. A couple hours later, I caught the dolmus to Lefkosa, found the bus to the airport. 2 months later I returned to pick up my visa. Everything went smoothly. I stayed in Girne; took a dolmus into Lefkosa to pay for the visa and give them more paper work; went back to Girne to hang out; returned to Lefkosa; got my visa; caught a bus; and was back in Istanbul in time to see 9okuz 8ekiz play at Peyote.