"Crossing the wire into northern Cyprus
Thirty years after Cyprus was torn in two, Chris Haslam crosses no man�s land into the resort that time forgot
Heat rises like petrol fumes from no man�s land, shimmering above the shell holes and giving the disturbing impression that a careless spark could set the whole place off. I scan the positions opposite through heavy binoculars, blinking away the sweat and searching for movement in the black summer heat.
Three hundred yards to my left, a UN observer smokes a cigarette on the roof of an abandoned factory. Dead ahead, behind the razor wire, a war-torn city sprawls northwards, deserted and crumbling, its elegant quarters and slapdash slums made equal by death. "
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