The following article appeared in The Observer of London on 19 May 2002, written by Helena Smith in Bellapais in the Republic of Cyprus (area under illegal occupation).

The houses of Greeks who fled when Turkey invaded are being snapped up, but their former owners may be back

Helena Smith in Bellapaix, Cyprus

The 'large, box-like house' immortalised by Lawrence Durrell in Bitter Lemons has become an emblem of a British scramble for property in the pariah state of northern Cyprus where title deeds may prove worthless.

The house in the village of Bellapaix, in the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, recognised only by Ankara, is in fact not for sale.

Almost five decades after Durrell acquired the house with its 'indescribable view', it still attracts a steady stream of aficionados. But increasingly the Britons who come want to do more than pay homage - they want to buy.

'In recent months I've had all sorts wanting to buy Bitter Lemons,' says its owner Hillary Baxton, speaking from her home in Cheshire. 'Each time I've had to say it's not for sale, it's only for rent.'

Spurred by hopes of an imminent peace settlement on the divided island in the run-up to its anticipated EU entry this December, hundreds of Britons - sensing financial rewards or a safe haven - are lining up to buy villas, ruins and plots of land.

But the properties may not be theirs for long. If Cyprus is reunited, 168,000 Greek Cypriots, who were forcibly driven from their homes in the 1974 Turkish invasion, may be lining up to reclaim their homes.

The European Court of Justice has already issued a landmark ruling favouring one such refugee.

Over the past year the number of estate agents has multiplied in the breakaway territory, from three to 15.

Never mind that the neighbours will include Asil Nadir, the fugitive tycoon who fled fraud charges in 1993. Or a motley crew of criminals on the run from British justice. Or a crowd of Tory MPs who have acquired hide-away holiday homes in the territory.

'The [Turkish Cypriot] government realises that having foreigners come here and buy property is a very good thing,' says Stacey Taneri at Unwin, a British-owned estate agency in the north of the island.

The majority of the properties may belong to Greek Cypriots. But, says Taneri, there should be no fears over legal ownership. 'We have a good lawyer who can arrange everything with title deeds, because now the properties belong to Turkish Cypriots,' she explains. 'The Greeks will never be back. The Turkish army is very strong.'

In Bellapaix tourists can be seen perusing pictures of holiday and retirement homes Unwin is selling.

'Property is cheap,' says Peter, from Whitby, giving a guided tour of his newly acquired £42,000 stone-wall villa in Bellapaix.

'My villa came fully furnished. I had plates, cutlery, even a bed to sleep on. Of course, it was pretty poignant finding the former owner's X-rays and seeing all the family pictures on the wall.'

Did he know who the previous owner had been? 'Some Greek who obviously left in a hurry. But it will be over my dead body that he gets this house back.'

There are more than 1,000 Britons living in the north. No more than 25 had homes there before the island was split between Greek and Turkish sectors. Not wanting to encourage tourism in the north, the recognised Greek-run republic in the south prevents Britons crossing the UN-patrolled 'green line'.

'So many tin-pot regimes are recognised around the world but not northern Cyprus, which has a freely elected government,' bristles Julia Price, chairperson of the British Residents' Society.

'It's a beautiful part of the world,' Lord Kilclooney of Armagh, who has two cottages in the north, told The Observer . 'No international aid has been put into the Turkish side, which is outrageous,' said the peer, a former Ulster Unionist MP who heads the all-party parliamentary group, the Friends of Northern Cyprus.

Other politicians fre quently holiday there, availing themselves of the largesse proffered under Turkish leader Rauf Denktash.

'The hospitality offered is enough to make one feel quite uneasy,' one Labour MP admitted.

Lawrence Durrell would not have been surprised: no other non-fiction work evinces the oiled workings of the Levant as well as Bitter Lemons."