Famagusta...A Ghost Town Amongst Us

When I was at university I chanced across a series of pictures on the Web taken of Famagusta in 1973, one year before the invasion. It was the first time I had seen pictures of the town which brought it alive for me. Up to then I had only heard stories. They showed a town bustling with activity, people going to and fro with their business, shops and roads of impeccable nature looking like Limassol is today. There is no doubt that Famagusta in 1973 was ahead of its time in comparison to other towns.

I was so moved by the pictures that I contacted the photographer who replied that he wished Famagusta would relive those years of glory and development again. That was more than a decade ago and we are still waiting for that day to come. The town sits, eerily quiet, grass growing inside it and wants to be a town once again.

I have visited the ghost town myself and I always go away haunted by its memory. Part of the town is shut away with barbed wire, houses and churches boarded up. Down at the coastline there is a bit of beach and then barbed wire from which you see the town, with its long stretch of hotels, derelict and empty, a Turkish officer sitting wearily in his observation box killing time. Time has indeed stood still. I imagine how it would now be in the town, the coffee cups lying on the tables unwashed in the cafeterias, the morning papers in the kiosk sitting there waiting to be read, the housewives' washing still hanging up to dry, left there in the rush to leave.

There is a thought, a theory we could say that if the inhabitants of Famagusta hadn't panicked and left, the town wouldn't have been taken. In truth why has its main quarter remained a ghost town with the entire strip of coastline left in disarray? It is a pawn politicians are playing with. There is potential there, there is the smell of money. There will be prosperity if there is a solution and it is handed over.

Recently Greek and Turkish Cypriots living in the United Kingdom signed a petition asking for the return of Famagusta to its inhabitants. It was indeed refreshing to see both Greek and Turkish Cypriot voices walking to Downing Street together and handing over the petition to the British Prime Minister. It showed solidarity. There is a voice of protest, a voice which urges to be heard but there must be more than petitions.

My father is from Famagusta and we have been to visit the family house where he grew up and where a Turkish family live now. I have heard about the childhood memories surrounding that family home which resonates with laughter of days gone by. There is no denying that you go away with a feeling of resignation and melancholy.

One summer a Welsh couple staying  in a hotel in Protaras, a holiday resort quite near Famagusta, asked my aunt and uncle why they were staying in a hotel since they had a house in Famagusta. They were baffled by the response, indeed many are equally confused when they hear the story of Famagusta. Let's just hope 2014 is lucky for the ghost town we live amongst.