Tag: Turkey

Today we toured the Sultan’s Palace, to get a taste of the royal lifestyle. It’s also right near our hotel, so it made for a leisurely Saturday.

We wandered inside the Harem, which is sadly not the sight of mindless orgies, but rather just where the royal family lived. The sultan’s mother actually controlled which of his concubines he could actually sleep with, which sounds like a terrible plan. Still, it did ensure an uninterrupted dynasty for close to a thousand years. We also saw their incredible trove of treasures, including a sweet jewel encrusted dagger.

Then we took a nap on the palace grounds, undisturbed by any officials. Eventually we summoned up the strength to wander the archaeological museum. Of particular interest was a 4th century bc sarcophagus with incredible relief of Alexander the Great, as well as some excellent Sumerian stuff. They also had findings from Troy, although I couldn’t remember which layer the city from the Illiad was supposed to be. I think it was VII, which had Greek contact and was destroyed by fire. Good enough for Schleimann, good enough for us.

After our rough day, we felt the need to try a traditional Turkish bath, to really get that royal experience. The bath that’s closest to us was designed by Sinan (the royal architect, contemporaneous with Leonardo and Michelangelo) for the sultan mother. While I’ve been to a Russian bath house before, this was an experience unlike any other. Never before have I been soaped up, scrubbed down, and rubbed out by a naked man. He made me hurt in ways I didn’t know I could. And I loved it. Waddled home feeling my joints loose, but cleaner than ever before.

After waking up in our tiny bed, my admiration for our hotel is slightly diminished. However, the excellent shower and breakfast on the terrace overlooking the Bosporus begins to make up for it.

Went to the Hagia Sophia in the morning, which is the originator of the multidomed design. Because it’s older, it doesn’t have the grace and lightness of the Blue Mosque, but the sheer size of the place is still overwhelming. It’s near impossible to take effective pictures inside, as the central scaffolding for the perpetual renovation blocks the view.

However, I did get a good picture of this Jesus mosaic. You know what they say about a savior with large feet?

Big sandals.

After the Hagia Sophia, we followed our trusty Rick Steves book on a tour of the Grand Bazaar. In a quiet corner, we found Osman’s Carpet Shop, where Hannah and I both fell in love.

After seeing dozens of fine specimens, we each had our heart set on the first carpet we saw. Hers is a red and black prayer rug made for a baby on their birth, and mine is a blue nomadic design with orange highlights. I am now a much poorer man, but how else am I to furnish my abode with artifacts from my adventures? Besides, Harvey Keitel shops there, and I don’t want to mess with the Wolf.

After the Grand Bazaar, we walked to the mosque of Suleyman the Magnificent. Hannah wants to add that honorific to her name, but I’m not convinced it’s better than “Emperor of the East and the West”, or even “Supreme Allied Commander.” The mosque is actually under renovation, so it’s distinctly less magnificent than intended. However, the tomb of the sultan and his empress are both quite impressive, so we got a sense of his magnificense.

Had dinner overlooking the Golden Horn, which separates the new and old parts of the city. Again, the food astounds me with its lightness and simple but evocative tastes. On our walk home, we saw a whirling dervish, which only made me want to lay down. Sadly, Hannah had her camera stolen on the tram, which made us both want to kill someone. However, at least it wasn’t money or her passport. She will just have to endeavour to go back to Paris and recreate all those arty shots of La Tour Eiffel.

After arriving in the morning, we trekked to our hotel. It’s in the touristy backpacker zone, but a little bit away from the central madness. In an incredibly cute wooden house, on a narrow cobblestone lane. Dropped our stuff, and went out for lunch at a place of Hannah’s choosing, and she couldn’t have done better.

The rooftop terrace at DoyDoy (stupid name, excellent food), had an amazing view of the Blue Mosque. About halfway through our meal, which was a welcome change from the heaviness of Balkan food, the midday call to prayer began. While this was old hat to the other diners, who were mainly businessmen, we were pretty astonished. The warbling tones sound so similar to Jewish prayers, it’s a wonder we can’t all get along. Why can’t we focus on the things that unite us, like falafel?

Then we went to the underground cistern, which was famously used as a chase scene in From Russia with Love.

While there are walkways instead of just boats now, it’s still an amazing place. Just meters below the surface of the city, there’s a cavernous space supported by columns reappropriated from ancient temples. It’s dimly lit by red and yellow spotlights, and the arabic music adds to the ambience. Tried to get some pictures of the reflections, but without a tripod it’s darn near impossible.

Above ground again, we ventured into the Blue Mosque.

Hannah claims this is the most spiritual place she’s been, and I think it gives Notre Dame a run for its money. The dome isn’t as big as that in St Peters, but the airy design gives a better sense of the space. And because there are lights around head level, it brings things back to a human scale. The Ottomans certainly win this engineer’s admiration.

Had dinner at an excellent fish restaurant right near our hotel. Hannah sure can pick ’em, fancy cars kept arriving at the valet. I tried to get them to bring me their most expensive car for us to depart, but without a make and model they were unwilling to bring it around. Seriously, excellent fresh snapper makes me much happier than yogurt covered whatever. I could get used to this.