This has been an historic summer for both communities on the fiery little island of Cyprus. For the Greek south, the coveted prize of EU membership is finally signed and sealed. In the Turkish north, an unprecedented period of change began in April, when free movement across the border was unexpectedly restored. The 30-year isolation of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus was over, and this enigmatic enclave suddenly became the island’s new destination of choice.

Recent events may have attracted me to north Cyprus, but to my surprise it was the legacy of an equally momentous past that proved truly captivating.

The imprint of successive waves of invaders is clearest at Famagusta, a medieval harbour town often likened to an outdoor museum. Under Lusignan rule in the 14th century, Famagusta boomed spectacularly when political upheavals led to an influx of exiled traders. The merchants became wealthy to the point of vulgarity, occasionally grinding up diamonds to add sparkle to their sumptuous banquets; prostitutes led lives of gaudy ostentation. However, by the time the Venetians muscled in a century later, there was no time to waste on decadence: Gunpowder had just been invented and the Ottomans were on the rampage: The priority now was to build a citadel with walls 60 feet high and 30 feet thick, bristling with bastions, embrasures and catapults. Even this couldn’t hold back the Turkish invaders, who outnumbered the defending Venetians by twenty to one, firing 100,000 cast-iron cannonballs onto the town in a year-long siege. Inside the citadel today, bronze cannon lifted from the great galleons smoulder silently; the dust may have settled only yesterday.

Moving deeper back into time, I visit another commercial capital: The Roman city of Salamis. Although the site is extremely well preserved (having lain under sand for a thousand years), it’s easy to groan inwardly when confronted with incomprehensible stony ruins. Happily, the excellent maps and information provided at the gate, combined with a little imagination, are all that’s needed to bring Salamis vividly to life. Within minutes, I knew my sudatoriums from my frigidariums, and could easily picture the pampered life led by Roman citizens: After a morning work-out at the palaestra (gymnasium), they would move on to the massive agora (marketplace) to gossip and haggle over fruit, wine and bolts of cloth. Later, they’d pay their respects at the Temple of Jupiter before enjoying a night at the amphitheatre, where the Emperor himself commanded bawdy performances. Needless to say, little of this cheery hedonism was available to the thousands of slaves who made it all possible.

Having tasted the dusty air of the city kingdom, I head for the rarefied atmosphere of Kantara Castle. My bottom-of-the-range rental car protests loudly as it struggles up the steep single-track mountain road behind a wheezing white van, the open back doors of which swing wildly as we veer round one hairpin bend after another. Eventually we reach the place 2,000 feet above sea level where a long-forgotten king once surrendered to Richard the Lionheart; the tapering view down the Karpas peninsular hasn’t changed since that day, and remains the finest panorama anywhere on Cyprus.

The hills of mainland Turkey, surprisingly close, brood on the horizon. It was in these waters that a 47-foot trading ship, returning from the Aegean, went down in heavy seas in the time of Alexander the Great. The wreck – then the world’s oldest – was discovered by a local diver in 1967, just a mile from the safe haven of Kyrenia where it is now housed in a museum. Displayed objects telling the story of the four crew members include four cups, 400 amphorae of wine, 300 fishing weights and 9,000 perfectly preserved almonds.

Now another astonishing secret seems set to emerge from the sea bed: An American researcher has recently claimed that Cyprus is the site of the lost island of Atlantis. A decade of oceanographic research has convinced the researcher that the fabled continent described by Plato originally spanned from Cyprus to Syria, and that present-day Cyprus is merely the last fragment of Atlantis still standing above the waves. He now plans a definitive exploration of the submerged landscape, and expects to uncover a city “containing buildings, roads and tunnels.” In time-honoured fashion, Cyprus is poised to rewrite the history books.