Once described as the ‘Las Vegas of the Mediterranean’, the once-thriving resort of Varosha in the breakaway Republic of Northern Cyprus has lain abandoned since the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. However, it was recently reopened to the public, despite a UN resolution forbidding it.
Click through the gallery to discover the scarcely believable story of this fabled resort and to see what lays beyond the barbed wire and shattered glass today…
When sun-seeking holidays in the eastern Mediterranean became popular among Europe’s elite in the mid-20th century, stylish resorts with sky-scraping hotels sprung up to meet the demand. Varosha, a tourist suburb of Famagusta on the eastern coast of Cyprus, was one such place, and Europe’s rich and famous jetted over to its shores for sunshine, expansive golden sands and seas that glinted in the sunrise.
Varosha had a long list of A-list fans, from Hollywood power couple Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton to iconic French superstar Brigitte Bardot. Varosha was also the luxurious home of actor Paul Newman for four months in 1960, while he was filming the historical epic Exodus in Cyprus.
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However, Varosha’s glory days were abruptly cut short in July 1974 when longstanding Greek-Turkish ethnic tensions came to a head. An Athens-backed coup designed to unite the entire island (majority Greek-speaking) with Greece deposed the elected Cypriot leader, Archbishop Makarios III. In response, the Turkish army landed on Cyprus to protect Turkish Cypriots from feared ethnic violence. Here we see two Swedish soldiers from The United Nations Peacekeeping Force in Cyprus (UNFICYP) patrolling a demilitarised zone that was quickly established between the two sides near Famagusta.
Turkish Cypriots in the southern part of the island fled to the Turkish-controlled northern part, while Greek speakers in the north fled to the Greek-administered south, further polarising a population that had once lived peacefully side-by-side. As Varosha’s 30,000-strong population was predominantly Greek Cypriot, its townspeople escaped southwards as the Turkish army approached. Here we see a British soldier from the nearby UK army base of Dhekelia carrying a baby as he assists the evacuation.
Varosha’s residents fled in such a hurry that they left almost everything behind. Pots were left cooking on stoves while valuables were hastily hidden, and sunbeds sat abandoned on the sand. Most Varoshians hoped the crisis would quickly blow over so they could return home. This photo from August 1974 shows the empty resort shortly after the invasion.
However, the situation would only get worse. During the invasion, Varosha’s tall hotels (such as the Salaminia Tower Hotel, pictured) were easy targets for Turkish shelling, which destroyed the resort’s infrastructure beyond repair.
After its bombardment, the Salaminia Tower Hotel completely collapsed on one side in August 1974. Other buildings in Varosha suffered a similar fate, and the homes of ordinary civilians were often looted by the military.
In 1984, the UN demanded the city be handed over to UN control and stated that any attempts to resettle or reopen Varosha by anyone who was not one of those originally forced out would be entirely illegal. However, the resolution has not been adhered to, so Varosha is still a Turkish Cypriot-controlled military zone.
Most of Varosha’s original inhabitants (and their direct descendants) now live south of Cyprus' UN buffer zone. Those families are still the legal owners of property in Varosha, but while the town is fought over, they cannot reclaim it. Plus, many of the buildings are now beyond repair, meaning the much-loved homes they once knew no longer exist.
Cypriots on both sides of the border have expressed desire for a reconciliation, but Varosha remains a perennial bargaining chip in peace negotiations. So, the barbed wire will stay up, its buildings will continue to decay, and nature will reclaim Varosha, which once served as a temple of tourism.
Fascination with Varosha, however, has only grown the longer it's been off-limits. In the decades that followed its desertion, boat tours began to depart from resorts in southern Cyprus – such as Ayia Napa and Larnaca – taking curious holidaymakers to the seas around Varosha for a closer look. Landing, however, was totally forbidden, and soldiers with guns put off most would-be urban explorers.
That didn’t stop a few intrepid souls from getting out the wire cutters (or braving the waves) and breaking into Varosha. Those that successfully ventured beyond the barricades described time capsule scenes, featuring everything from souvenir shops stocking 1970s sunglasses and flares to vintage vehicles left inside car dealerships.
Then, in 2017, a small section of Varosha’s beach was opened up exclusively to Turkish and Turkish Cypriot travellers. Drinks vendors and watersports companies wasted no time setting themselves up in this new destination, despite the UN and EU condemning the opening as illegal.
Nevertheless, Varosha’s brilliant beaches – untouched since the 1970s – and curious allure continued to pull in those who were allowed to visit. In this image from 2017, families make the most of its shallow waters on a sunny day, while Varosha’s disputed and dilapidated buildings stand in the background.
In a surprise announcement in October 2020, the Turkish Cypriot authorities said that a further 1.4 square miles (3.5sq km) of the town’s streets would be open to international visitors for day trips. The following month, the Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan stopped in Varosha and enjoyed an alfresco picnic on the beach (pictured), but his visit was seen by many Greek and Turkish Cypriots as Turkey interfering in domestic affairs and threatening hopes for a reunified island.
Although Greek Cypriots – including those whose families fled the area in 1974 – are now permitted to visit and even sell their property (via a Turkish Cypriot government organisation), some perceive the reopening as exerting pressure on Greek Cypriots to recognise Northern Cyprus as a legitimate state. It's currently only recognised by Turkey, and the UN continues to condemn any attempts to resettle or profit from the abandoned town.
Despite this, tourists of all nationalities are seizing the opportunity to peek inside Varosha. A handful of roads inside the resort have been resurfaced to make exploration easier. It’s even possible to rent a bike once you pass through the military checkpoint – though there are only a few streets open, and the area is small enough to walk around on foot.
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Day trips from both parts of Cyprus – Greek and Turkish – are the easiest way to visit Varosha. The bus in this image is owned by Mr John, a Greek Cypriot tour guide who fled his family’s citrus plantation in Famagusta in 1974. Like many other Cypriot tour guides, he works in cooperation with a Turkish Cypriot counterpart, where the two explain Varosha’s tumultuous recent history and draw upon personal experience from both sides of the buffer zone.
Guided visits generally allow for plenty of free time to explore and take photographs of the crumbling resort. One of the most spectacular buildings in Varosha is the Lykeio Ellinidon, a stunning Neoclassical-style building that once played host to dazzling theatre and dance performances. The roof has now collapsed and the stalls are littered with looted (and unwanted) clothing.
There’s also the old Toyota showroom, which can be seen on the junction of Varosha's two main resurfaced roads. The curved facade is certainly impressive, but it’s in the depths of the basement where you’ll find its most interesting treasure: original 1970s sports cars, on display and seemingly ready to drive away.
The Greek Orthodox church of Ayia Zoni lies just inside the fenced-off military zone and can be seen from Famagusta’s publicly-accessible Kavunoglu Street. Both Greek and Turkish graffiti now covers the exterior, while the interior is bare, the gold-covered Greek Orthodox icons long gone.
Galaxy was once a trendy boutique, stocked with leather goods, jewellery and sunglasses. Along the same row of shops was a perfumery, where elegant customers searched for their signature scent, plus a 1970s coffee house that would once have been filled with lively chatter and classic Cypriot snacks.
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If you're wondering why this very British postbox stands in the middle of a Varosha street, it's because Cyprus was under British rule from 1878 to 1960, with the island gaining independence just as Varosha was springing to life. The British influence on Varosha is clearly visible, from branches of Barclays bank to English-language signs everywhere you look.
While a military zone stays in place, Varosha is stuck in the middle of a stalemate: the Turkish Cypriot authorities have expressed a desire to reopen more of the resort (against successive UN resolutions), while landowning Greek Cypriot Varoshians have been warned off selling their property in the area.
Despite the difficult political situation, many Cypriots still dream about what Varosha's future will look like. In April 2023 it was reported that a Turkish Cypriot entrepreneur had purchased three hotels from their Greek Cypriot owners and hoped to reopen them as soon as 2025, keeping the original hotel names and restoring them to their 1974 glory. Another Greek Cypriot-led initiative hopes to revive Varosha as an eco-city, but only time will tell whether Varosha can return to its glory days – before war tore it apart.
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