The fact that the Stelling never was attacked has ensured the survival of many of its most spectacular fortifications. Pampus Fort stands on an artificial island of 45,000 cubic metres of sand supported by 3,800 deeply sunk piles. The three-floor main building is surrounded by a dry moat 8 m (26 ft) wide and has two turrets that each held twin 57 mm (2.2 inch) guns. Within are quarters for 200 soldiers, a kitchen, laundry and classrooms, two coal-fired steam engines, two dynamos, a telegraph, a first aid station and magazines. Tunnels connect the building to galleries inside the counterscarp, or outside of the moat, where defenders could fire four M90 Gardner machine guns on attackers who made it into the moat. Also within the counterscarp were a jail, a forge, and several supply rooms. A large glacis, or artificial slope, surrounds the fort on all sides.
There were originally eighty-seven polders ready to be inundated by military waterworks, and today thirty-five of these sluice systems remain. The inundation station at Schagen was typical of the Dutch mastery of water. It drew water in from the North Sea and guided it southwards to the next station in the defence line at Krommeniedijk.
Had there been no major advances in military technology, the Stelling van Amsterdam would have been one of the world’s most prodigious defences. There were such advances, of course, and today the system stands as a monumental military idea, abandoned when a new strategy was made necessary.
DATE ABANDONED: 1923
TYPE OF PLACE: Town
LOCATION: Turkey
REASON: Political
INHABITANTS: 2,000
CURRENT STATUS: Preserved
CAUGHT ON THE WRONG SIDE OF A SHIFTING BORDER DISPUTED BY WARRING NATIONS, THE POPULATION OF KAYAKÖY WAS EVICTED WHOLESALE AND AGAINST THEIR WISHES IN AN ACT OF ETHNIC CLEANSING.
Peace among the ruins
In the ninety years since these houses were abandoned their rafters and doors have been stripped by human hands and nature’s powers, leaving only walls and chimneys standing proud of the rubble. However, despite the desolation, this is a very peaceful and enchanting place. Grassy streets run between the hundreds of crumbling hovels. Simple churches offer sanctuary from the burning sun. Olive trees flourish in the echoing town square. In spring, wildflowers add a splash of sweet melancholy to the ruins. Above it all rise the sleepy green hills which seem to hold the village in an embrace.
Kayaköy is a peaceful place to wander through, but this quiet serenity belies the fact that the town as it is today was born from vicious ethnic violence.
Trading places
Kayaköy was founded as the Greek village of Levissi in the eighteenth century. Its population surged after the nearby village of Fethiye was shattered by an earthquake in 1856. Levissi became a centre of Greek Orthodox worship with more than twenty churches and chapels built in the village and on the surrounding plain.
At the end of the First World War, the victorious Allies promised Greece territory that had been held by the Ottoman Empire. In 1919, Greek forces set out to seize these lands, occupying Smyrna and several other cities in Anatolia (the Asian part of Turkey).
However, the Greek army was eventually defeated by Turkish forces and the disputed territory was incorporated into the Republic of Turkey. There was then a population exchange between the two countries: Greeks living in Turkish territory returned to Greece and vice versa. The numbers were huge – at least a million Greeks made the move and 500,000 Muslims were displaced from the Greek territories. The wholly Greek town of Kayaköy was left deserted when its population was forcibly sent to a motherland that the people barely knew.
The spiritual atmosphere amid the stones
As well as its atmospheric, tumbledown houses, Kayaköy has several interesting historic sites. A handful of buildings have been restored and one is home to a small museum that explains the history of the settlement. There is a splendid fountain in the middle of the town and two notable Greek Orthodox churches. Known as the Lower and the Upper Churches, these are small and built in a seventeenth century gothic style.
Inside the Upper Church.
The scattering of roofless houses seen from above.
The Lower Church was at the heart of the town.
The Lower Church is the better preserved, with traces of blue and gold on its altar. Crowning the highest hill in the town is the Upper Church, the older of the two. Outside the building, the mosaic courtyard is still in remarkably good condition. Inside, the church presents a very poetic picture of decay. Scattered holes in the roof let in shafts of sunlight, illuminating the interior as if to suggest that somebody up there still cares about this place.
DATE ABANDONED: Twentieth century
TYPE OF PLACE: City
LOCATION: Bangladesh
REASON: Economic/Religious
INHABITANTS: Thousands at its peak
CURRENT STATUS: Gradual decay
A RICH TRADING CENTRE PRIZED BY HINDU, ISLAMIC, MUGHAL, AND BRITISH EMPIRES IS NOW SLOWLY BEING WASHED AWAY BY AN INDIFFERENT CLIMATE. SOME OF THE OLDEST BUILDINGS IN BANGLADESH ARE ALL BUT LOST AMID THE RAINS AND THE FLOURISHING JUNGLE.
The town of many empires
It is only 24 km (15 miles) from the hive-like hubbub of Bangladesh’s capital city, Dhaka, but Sonargaon feels like it exists on a different planet. It was a Hindu trading outpost by the thirteenth century and it later became an Islamic spiritual retreat. As seagoing international trade increased from the fourteenth century onwards, Sonargaon steadily grew in size and influence.
It boomed again under British colonial rule, with the establishment of the textile-producing neighbourhood of Panam City. Street after street of elegant Indo-European townhouses were built in the late 1800s to house a prosperous new population of upper-middle class Bengali businessmen.
Left behind in a new age
British rule officially ended in 1947, and the former empire was divided along religious lines: India (Hindu) and Pakistan (Muslim). As Sonargaon became part of East Pakistan, many of its Hindu residents fled across the border to India. Bangladesh was established as an independent country in 1971 at the end of a fierce civil war. By that time this once affluent town had been abandoned, with most of its remaining inhabitants having moved to the growing city of Dhaka.
Today the old town is recognized as being at risk and is officially protected. However, the damp climate, lack of maintenance and infestation with woodworm and other pests are all causing