I’d seen the pictures online. An empty, crumbling departure lounge, sporting 1970s décor. Retro-style seats – padded, not plastic. Signs, notices and advertisements with retro typography. Except nothing in this airport is deliberately retro. It is all original, left just as it was when the airport closed in 1974. I love abandoned places and today I finally got to visit this one.

Nicosia International Airport was built in the 1930s by the British Royal Air Force and used by allied forces for bombing raids in Europe. It was later used for commercial flights by holiday-makers until it closed in 1974 when Turkey invaded the island. The airport was heavily bombed and saw intense fighting between Cypriots and Turks until the UN declared it a protected area and created the Buffer Zone separating the Greek and Turkish Cypriot communities. The airport is still in the buffer zone, on a British-run UN peacekeeping camp. I feel very fortunate to have been allowed into this camp for a look around the old airport.

Source

Source

Source

I was surprised by how big the buffer zone is. Conscious of the security sensitivities, I only took photos of the airport. As we approached the terminal, I could see remnants of decorative walls lining the road, with two empty fountains on each side. The terminal building is a long flat rectangle and on the roof you can make out the giant crumbling words ‘Nicosia International Airport’. It was built in 1968 to accommodate the expansion of the airport – just six years before it had to close.

We couldn’t get into the ground floor because if was fenced off with barbed wire and UN personnel were doing some sort of drill at the other end. However we went up a ramp that took us to the second floor. A long corridor stretched the entire length of the terminal, its floor covered with shattered glass from the many broken windows. Strip lights hung by just their wires from the ceiling and we took care not to walk under them in case they fell.

To our left, glass doors opened into an area containing customs desks, a health services office, toilets and a number of non-descript offices. Some of the customs desks were designated for Cypriots only, the signs still attached.

Further along the corridor was a large departure lounge, filled with retro-looking seats. They would have been comfortable, except they were now covered in bird poo. There was detritus all over the floor; bits of broken furniture, ceiling, more bird poo – even empty egg shells. The ceiling panels were hanging off, curved with age. I wasn’t sure how safe the building was, but I figured it had survived the last 50 years, so an extra 5 minutes probably wouldn’t make a difference.

Behind the departure lounge was what looked like an old kitchen. You could still see some of the stainless steel worktops.

I walked across the departure lounge to the other side of the building. The first floor ended with a long balcony that looked over the entrance hall on the ground floor. The entrance hall was the length of the terminal, with advertisements decorating the walls.

The terminal had a weird atmosphere. I couldn’t call it spooky. It was fascinating and tragic and poignant – a link to a simpler, more innocent time before bloodshed and partition, when there was one Cyprus and people could come and go easily.

Outside the terminal, the runway points from north to south, as if trying to join both sides of the island. On one side you can see the Troodos Mountain range, on the other the Kyrenia (Besparmak) range. Apparently, somewhere near the runway is the wreckage of a plane that crashed when it overshot the runway. If I’d known about that beforehand I would have gone looking for it.

Down the road from the terminal is a large derelict hanger. Sitting on the tarmac outside it is an old Cyprus Airways plane, waiting for its next flight – a flight that would never come. Over 40 years later, its doors and nose are missing and it is covered with rust and warning signs not to enter it. But its tail still carries the red Cyprus Airways logo and along its body you can just make out the words ‘Cyprus Airways.’ This airline company no longer exists – it closed just last year because of financial difficulties.

Nicosia International Airport is one of many abandoned and derelict relics on the island. Just like the ancient ruins dotted all over Cyprus, these more recent ruins tell the story of a chapter in the island’s history. Nicosia airport is one artefact in the museum that is Cyprus. A living, breathing museum where past and present exist side by side.