I’M not normally one to return time and again to a destination — I feel there are too many places to visit in the world — and yet Northern Cyprus has already lured my partner and me to its shores on three memorable occasions during the past five years. The reason that we keep returning to the Turkish part of this wonderful island — other than for the warmth of the sunshine — is that this is a land that time has largely forgotten. 

Call us old-fashioned, but we like that. We like seeing donkeys roaming wild, shepherds tending their bleating sheep and bell-tingling goats, and fishermen going to sea from some of the most ancient and picturesque harbours in the world. 

We returned on this occasion to Kyrenia (above) or Girne as it is known locally which has a horse-shoe harbour protected by a castle, dramatically lit up at night, and a quayside bustling with colourful boats, restaurants, bars and shops — though thankfully few of them selling tacky souvenirs. 

Shopkeepers may be keen to see the colour of your money — and they’re not fussy whether it’s Turkish lira (the local currency), sterling or euros, but they appear to be in no hurry, offering you a cup of tea or some other refreshment while they haggle good-naturedly over the price. And, although there were plenty of bargains (particularly in leather-ware, fake designer jeans and gold jewellery), there wasn’t a department store to be found, although LeMar has sprung up as a new supermarket chain.

No-one seems to be in much of a rush, possibly because in the height of the summer temperatures can soar and it’s too hot to do anything much too quickly. During our last visit, we were content to take a leaf out of the Pia Bella Hotel cat’s book and spend much of the time lolling on sunbeds in the shade of the citrus trees in the gardens surrounding the two swimming pools. 

Yet the panorama of Five Finger mountains, which beckoned from beyond our balcony and basked in rich, crimson hues as the sun set, was just waiting to be explored. A short taxi ride takes you to the pretty village of Bellapais, famous for its beautiful monastery. St Helarion is also close by, a crusader castle offering the most awe-inspiring views from its sheer, cliff-side setting. A word of advice — visit early morning when temperatures are cooler and take some water as the stairway to the outpost tower feels like it’s going all the way to heaven. 

We revisited favourite haunts, such as the five-star, but still affordable, Palm Beach Hotel at the old walled harbour town of Famagusta. We were disappointed that the turtles that we used to swim with there (they’d bob up unexpectedly beside us) were nowhere to be seen, perhaps chased away by too many inquisitive tourists. Yet on our return to Kyrenia, we were also heartened to visit a conservation project that has been run there by Exeter University since 1984. Volunteers (mainly students) from all over the world (and many of them Scots), pay handsomely for the privilege of working all hours of the day and night to become midwives to the turtles that frequent the local beaches to lay their eggs.

We were honoured to be among the 10 tourists per night allowed to shadow their work. Of course, it all depends on Lady Luck and nature herself how many — if any — turtles visit the open-air maternity wards during late May and June. You go down to the beach in a group after dark and wait patiently until the turtles turn up — big, lumbering, shelled shapes, dragging themselves over the sand. As bright lights or any disturbance chase these endangered loggerheads, leatherbacks or green turtles away, the voyeurs are asked to remain motionless until the turtles are in a trance-like state while laying their eggs. Then, as long as no flash photography is used and the turtles are not touched, they don’t seem to mind onlookers too much. Peer too closely, however, and you may end up with a faceful of sand, scooped up by the powerful flippers as the turtle carefully covers her nest again and takes off back to the sea, leaving her hatchlings to make their own way there during July and August.

There was a baby boom that night — we watched three green turtles in labour and couldn’t leave the beach again until 3 am when there was a short lull in the proceedings! Yet we left the students still at work, measuring shells and covering the turtles’ nests with wire cages to protect the eggs from predators or over-enthusiastic sandcastle builders. Gone are the days that we’d stay out till that time in nightclubs — another glaring absence from North Cyprus resorts, apart from one or two on the far outskirts of town.

Due to the frosty relationship that continues between the Turkish north and Greek south of the island, Nicosia is the only remaining capital divided by barricades. Hire cars cannot be driven into the south from the north, although they can the other way around and all flights to Ercan still need to touch down first of all in Turkey, which adds to the journey time of around six hours.

However, as Internet cafés and casinos testify, North Cyprus is slowly modernising and looking forward to joining the EU like its southern, prosperous counterpart. Part of the progress unfortunately is coming in the shape of rapidly built and incongruous holiday home developments sticking out like sores in the chiselled sides of the pine-clad mountains and remaining unfinished ‘ghost towns’, like the one that still haunts the outskirts of Famagusta. 

How much longer will the endangered turtles lay their eggs in peace, the wild donkeys roam free or over-harassed tourists seek the peace and solitude of natural and beautiful surroundings? Let’s hope time doesn’t catch up too soon.

For flights from Glasgow and Aberdeen to Ercan in Northern Cyprus visit