The call to prayer in Nicosia

Last year, I crossed to the Turkish side of Nicosia and wandered the quiet, still streets, amazed at the change of pace and the way in which this part of the city seemed so much more in touch with the past.

Eventually I found myself in a square next to a mosque, and allowed the slow shift from one culture to another and the sharp contrast from the noisy, clattering streets of the other side, to seep into me.

Above my head, what sounded like a giant megaphone crackled into life and, for the first time in my life, I heard a real call to prayer.

This is what I heard.