It should have been packed with people, constantly busy; there should have been lights beaming and all kinds of sounds echoing around the place. Yet it was silent. Nicosia International Airport (LCNC(NIC) ICAO code) has been waiting for us 20 years on after we first visited the place. I had hoped that this date would have taken place under normal circumstances, perhaps for a cup of coffee or a trip, and not accompanied by UN officials.
Nothing reminds us of what used to be an elegant venue. There are no furnishings, merely a structure. The base of the restaurant kitchen is still there, perhaps because it was difficult for vandals to remove.
Situated on the western tip of the capital Nicosia, the NIC, declared as abandoned by the ICAO, has been included in the area declared as a United Nations Protected Area (UNPA) in the buffer zone since hostilities ended, following the July 20th 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus.
For years now, within the framework of direct negotiations to find a comprehensive settlement to the Cyprus problem, the media has been visiting the UNPA to cover the talks. Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots wait patiently each time for the end of these meetings and possible statements; they talk about this, read the newspapers or file stories. Almost every time I find myself looking towards the NIC terminal, wondering how things are after so many years of neglect. The airport seems ‘frozen in time’.
After the necessary procedural arrangements, CNA photographer Katia Christodoulou and I were given the go ahead by the United Nations Peacekeeping Force in Cyprus (UNFICYP) to visit the airport. On a blistering August afternoon, we arrive at the UNFICYP gate, waiting for Captain Thomas Dano to escort us and be our guide.
We take the usual road within UNPA, although this time it leads us straight to NIC. Its view sends shivers down my spine. The slight wind blowing the dry weeds that shoot up from all sides at the airport entrance and waterless fountains warn me of what we are about to witness.
UNFICYP’s mandate is to maintain the status quo. And this is why time has stood still. The orange colour of rust permanently adorning anything made of iron. Barricades have been put up at different spots and together with plastic bottles, paper, shattered glass and tins form the “decoration” of this strange site. We head towards the runway and see the airport’s facade. Only a few letters remain on the famous “Nicosia International Airport” sign. The glass from many windows and doors has been replaced with boards, perhaps in an effort to prevent entry into the terminal.
As we park our cars under the entrance of the stairway used for arriving passengers, I notice a fig tree which has sprouted in the most unlikely surroundings, right underneath the stairway. Captain Dano removes a barricade with the help of a plank to open the way for entry into the building – through a broken glass door. There are no formalities here. He advises us to be careful. The first impression – an eerie silence broken by the fluttering of a pigeon inquisitively looking at us as intruders into their ‘space’.
The floor is covered in droppings, broken glass, chipped paint and there is a peculiar scent around the site. It was not like this 20 years ago. What should one expect though? Here the only ‘passengers’ are pigeons, cats, rats and snakes.
The ‘Health Control’ kiosk is the first one we come across. How ironic, one would say. The counters and shelves contain nothing but dirt. Electrical fixtures have been actually pulled out of the walls and sanitary ware has been hauled out. Lamps have turned into perfect dwellings for pigeons.
I ask Captain Dano why there is an unharmonious sound of an air conditioning unit. He replies that the Cyprus Telecommunications Authority (CYTA) maintains a room at the airport where telephone lines were installed years ago. This serves both UNFICYP headquarters and the surrounding residential areas. Maintaining the room is mandatory, he adds. How I wish that the rest of the building could be maintained.
As we leave behind us the ‘Passports’ and ‘Visa’ kiosks, I look down and see the impressive entrance of the terminal. The high ceiling building with the patterned side walls made such an impression on me even at the age of six in 1973, that when I visited the airport again in 1990, this picture still lingered in my mind. Twenty years later, the neglect is stronger than ever.
Amazingly so, some commercial signs that adorned the walls years ago still remain almost intact. ‘Intercontinental Holidays’, ‘Bata’, “Seiko” have stood the test of time. Others have become mere dwellings for the local ‘residents’.
Telephone booths have been stripped with only the doors remaining to remind us of their past purpose. Captain Dano points to the broken round-shaped glass ceiling window, saying that one can see in circular shapes on the ground intense signs of destruction.
The ‘Departures’ lounge with the striking modern seats is daunting. Those remaining have changed colour from bird droppings and are torn while others are broken, with only their skeleton remaining. It is evident, says the UN captain, that there has been vandalism in the terminal. Whatever could have been removed or had any value has vanished. The ‘Duty Free’ shops have been completely stripped off, with only the frame and the signs remaining to remind us of their purpose.
We walk down the stairs and head to the entrance where passengers used to go through the automatic doors, a unique feature at the time. The picture remains the same everywhere. Chilling neglect. After checking in their luggage and receiving the boarding cards, passengers and the public could enter the main terminal building for refreshments at the quality restaurants. Captain Dano suggests we visit the viewing terrace, a well known and popular venue to Nicosians, with a restaurant.
The prominent staircase, made of steel and wood, slightly sways as we climb up. When we reach the top level, he asks us to step on the steel beams that can be seen inside the staircase at a certain point. The wood covering the beams has deteriorated over the years, as the ceiling window right on top of it remains broken.
Nothing reminds us of what used to be an elegant venue. There are no furnishings, merely a structure. The base of the restaurant kitchen is still there, perhaps because it was difficult for vandals to remove. Now the view is wide open from the terrace as there are hardly any windows to obstruct the scenery. The view from the balcony is one of an abandoned runway.
Leaving the terminal, we are led through a gap in the steel wire which blocks the broken doors. Taking a last look, I wonder. Are we going to come back? Is there a reason to come back if things remain the same?
Taking our cars, we drive towards the abandoned Cyprus Airways Trident Sunjet that has been left to the elements after it was parked by its captain. The plane was shot on several occasions during the 1974 Turkish invasion. Parts of another Trident bombed during the attack are still at the airport, although this time we did not see it.
I climb inside the abandoned Trident from the plane’s wing. I do not remember such destruction when I climbed inside 20 years ago. Cables hanging everywhere, all fixtures removed, the cockpit stripped bare, graffiti all over the place – signs that trespassers have entered the aircraft. The barricades around the plane have obviously not deterred them.
We ask to visit the hangar that stands near the abandoned Trident. It is evident from figures painted on the walls inside the derelict building that it was used at some point after the invasion as a sports centre. It bears the same signs of abandonment as the remaining buildings in the airport area. The Tower Control also portrays a similar picture.
Nicosia International Airport was only six years old when the Turkish invasion took place in 1974.
It was an architectural marvel for the young Republic of Cyprus and the pride of both Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots. It was regarded as a hub for communications in the Middle East.
Perhaps the fact that it did not fall in to the hands of the Turkish Forces was a blessing in disguise. Larnaca and Pafos International Airports undertook the role of the capital’s airport after 1974 to keep the Republic’s aviation industry running. And the NIC stands patiently, waiting for the moment hen it can operate once again and seal its role in the capital.