Once the jewel of Cypriot celebrity tourism, Famagusta’s resort district of Varosha was the place to be. In the early 1970s its beaches drew Hollywood stars, jet-setters and holidaymakers from across Europe, all flocking to luxury hotels that lined the dazzling coastline.

But today, the same sands sit eerily silent, overshadowed by crumbling high-rises and streets frozen in time. For nearly fifty years, this once-thriving paradise has stood abandoned, sealed off behind barbed wire and military patrols, too dangerous – and too politically sensitive – for the public to enter freely.

The decline of Famagusta came abruptly in 1974. Like today, Cyprus was already divided between Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots, with tensions simmering for decades. In July 1974, a coup happened – Greek-backed forces overthrew the Cypriot president, trying to unite the island with Greece.

That set alarm bells ringing in Turkey, which claimed it had to step in to protect the Turkish Cypriot population. Turkish troops then invaded the northern part of the island. Varosha residents were forced to flee overnight, leaving homes, shops and hotels exactly as they were. The expectation was that they would return within days. That return never came.

Since then, Varosha has become a ghost town trapped in a geopolitical stalemate and a haunting monument to the conflict. The resort was fenced off by the Turkish military and a UN resolution of 1984 called for the handover of Varosha to UN control, prohibiting any attempt to resettle it by anyone other than those who were forced out.

In 2020, however, parts of the fenced-off area were reopened under Turkish Cypriot administration, allowing limited access to select streets and the beachfront. The opening was seen as a move by Turkey and the Turkish Cypriots to assert control and an attempt to determine the future of the area independently. The controversial move led to condemnations from the European Union and the United Nations for being a violation of UN resolutions, which maintain that Varosha can only be resettled by its original owners.

Instead of attracting the glamorous sunbathers, Varosha became a hub for ‘dark tourism’ – where travellers seek out destinations for their morbid and sometimes tragic histories. According to statistics released in 2024, more than 1.8 million tourists visited the area in the last four years.

Locals who returned reported finding items such as hanging laundry, photo albums, and tables still set for meals – everything frozen in time, just as it had been left behind.

The Mirror reported about a TikToker @donny_knight, who has shared rare glimpse inside Varosha. The three-and-a-half-minute video captures the crumbling buildings, empty streets and overgrown vegetation of Varosha. The clip begins with the remains of what appears to be an old Singer sewing machine store, before moving on to a derelict Barclays bank, its entrance sign the only thing still intact. As the camera moves along the deserted street, viewers are shown an abandoned Toyota showroom, completely empty of cars.

But many locals are criticising this type of tourism, claiming that it is disrespectful to those who were forced out of the town by the Turks. On Reddit, a user asked what Cypriots think of tourists visiting Varosha.

One Redditor said: “Imagine if the Germans didn’t lose as badly in WWII, and the Nazis were allowed to keep control of Germany and part of Poland as part of a peace treaty.

“Would you feel comfortable visiting Auschwitz if it was still under control of the regime who perpetrated the original genocide?”

Another user added: “Exactly. People need to understand that Varosha is not a museum exhibit to learn about the Cyprus problem, it is a direct extant consequence of it and an ongoing tragedy. If the Cyprus problem ever gets solved do make a museum about this part of the city’s history, but at its current state it is absolutely unethical to visit Varosha as a tourist.”