Turkey 2011

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Our Trip to Türkiye

A. Rod Paolini

September, 2011

Sultan Ahmet Mosque, Istanbul

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Day 01: September 14, 2011

After a eleven-hour flight from Washington Dulles, a two-hour layover at Atatürk Airport in Istanbul, and a one-hour flight toAdnan Menderez Airport near Izmir, we obtained our rental car anddescended into the darkness of Anatolia.

My wife, Kathy, and I had joined with her brother andsister-in-law, Jack and Judy Donovan, for a seventeen-day vacationin Türkiye.

We traveled about an hour on the otoyol and arrived inSelçuk about 9:30pm. By 10:00pm, we were sitting in an outdoorcafé sipping wine while surrounded by a pool with a fountain, amodern sculpture, and the arches of an aqueduct as a backdrop.


The area around the ancient city of Ephesus had been settled as early as the fourteenth century BCE (beforethe common era); and it was founded by Greeks in the ninth century. It was constructed on a river bend that waseventually dredged to create a harbor near the mouth of the Cayster River, and, because of the man-made harborstructure and the flow of the river, a backwash caused the harbor to frequently silt up. While the harbor wasdredged over the years, it finally silted up and the city was left five miles from the Aegean Sea. It was partiallydestroyed by an earthquake in 614 CE and sacked by Arabs starting in the 7 century. When the Seljuk Turksth

conquered Ephesus in 1090, it was a small village. By the 15th century, it had been completely abandoned.

At its height, it was one of the twelve cities of the IonianLeague during the Classical Greek era. In the Roman period, it wasfor many years the second largest city of the Roman Empire, rankingbehind Rome. Ephesus had a population of more than 250,000 inthe 1st century BCE, which also made it the second largest city inthe world. It’s major attraction in those times was the Artemision,the temple of Artemis. Now, only a single column is restored.

It experienced the period of transition from the Olympiandeities to the Christian god but not without contention. From 52–54CE, Paul lived in Ephesus, working with the congregation andapparently organizing missionary activity into the hinterlands. Hebecame embroiled in a dispute with local artisans, whose livelihooddepended on selling the statuettes of Artemis in the temple.

While perhaps not regaining its former size, the daytime population in the summer probably reaches severalthousands as cruise ships dock at nearby Kuºadasý which can disgorge 2,000 passengers per ship. Usually I enjoy anancient site alone but in the case of Ephesus, having throngs of people simulates the experience as the city must havebeen. Still, it creates a frustrating situation as one tries to read maps and excerpts from the guide book, search andidentify a particular ruin, dodge other tourists, and watch for pedestrian hazards. As I was waiting for Judy to catchup to me, I turned to step out of the pedestrian flow and then turned back, only to see her face down on the

Selçuk Square

Library of Celsus

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pavement. More stunned than hurt, she recovered quickly. Amazing to me is the footwear of tourist. While I wearrock-climbing boots–for we are walking on roughly paved stone–others wear flip-flops, flats, and even high-heelshoes.

Kathy and I had visited Ephesus in the year 2000, but the area called the terrace houses was just beingunearthed. Now much of it had been uncovered and partially restore; best of all, it was enclosed with a roof toprovide shade. I’m sure that I do not fully appreciate the task and difficulties of an archaeologist but I quickly realizedtwo challenges. First, cities are dynamic. A living quarters is built on a site, then converted to a stable, and then abath, and finally an artisan’s workshop. How an archaeologist untangles the evidence of these uses is amazing,especially when on realizes that the ruins of the former became the building material for the latter.

The work of restoration seems straight-forward at first: identify thematerials that comprised the structure and re-position them whilesupplementing those that are missing. Fine in theory, but when I looked at theproject for the restoration of the frescoed walls, I was ‘blown away.’ Sitting ata table, among probably twenty-five tables, were workers putting together ajigsaw puzzle of hundreds of pieces of broken fresco. And how did they knowthat those pieces were of the same fresco? When did they decide, “Screw it! The piece is missing; let’s just make a new one?”

Based upon a proposed schedule for visiting the area, I had allocatedtwo hours for touring, but after three and a half, we had only walked the mainthorough fares. While the temperature in the shade was probably only 80degrees, the sun was brilliant and the stones radiated heat. Sweat waspouring into my eyes, my throat was parched, and my calves were burning. ‘Touristing’ isn’t suppose to be this much work.


Breakfast is provided by most hotels in Türkiye, and it is usually served on a terrace rooftop. The typicalTurkish breakfast consists of bread or toast, feta cheese, black and green olives, and coffee, but Urkmez Hotel offeredjuice, cereal and eggs. Young men brought out the food and bused the tables–the same ones that staffed the frontdesk and carried in our bags. I had read in several books that Türkiye is a male-dominated society and that roles aredefined; as such, the household is run by the woman. The women of this household–the mother and a cook–seemedto fit this description. They seldom emerged from their office andkitchen, but they barked orders and scoldings that needed notranslation, and their young men moved lively in response.

Our objective for the day was to travel to the town ofDalyan on the Mediterranean coast, about a six hour drive fromSelçuk. To have respite from the drive, I had routed us south andaround the Lake Bafa in order to visit the ancient city of Heracleiaunder Latmos, the city being at the base of Mount Latmos. The cityhad been on the Gulf of Latmos but sediment from the MaeanderRiver had silted the area at the mouth and Lake Bafa had formedbehind the estuary marshes. The photographs of the area wereenticing, and it was a refuge for birds. Also found in the area were

Jigsaw Puzzle

Village of Kapýýkýrý and Lake Bafa

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rock-paintings dating to the Bronze Age, and the ruins of several monasteries founded in the 7 century.th

We arrived in the little village of Kapýýkýrý and spotted a signpointing to the monasteries. I inquired of the proprietor, of a whatseemed to have been a restaurant but now seemed to only to servedrinks, as to how far and how long it would take to hike to themonastery as I didn’t want to spend a great deal of time here. “Onlyabout 30 minutes; it’s smooth.” A canard of the highest order! Ibelieve that we ascended a couple of thousand feet, and soon thesweat was pouring down my face. Our guide paused our trek forwater and a smoke, the latter seemingly not to affect him as henimbly moved up and down the path.

We did reach a monastery, name unknown. I walked aboutthe ruin with the guide to inspect the various buildings such as thecells, the church and the fortifications (Arabs began invading the areain the 7 century) while my companions tried to recuperate. Weth

found only one small portion of a fresco, and we soon began our descent. Our guide indicated that he could take usto the rock-paintings but we were too exhausted to extend our trek. A place to sit, a cool drink, and the resumptionof our journey was all we could think of.

Now hours behind our scheduled journey, we decided tohave dinner in the city of Muða (the ð is silent). We found an largerestaurant with an outdoor patio, complete with a live ensemblethat played Fasil music, described as a semi-classical genre and anightclub version of classical Turkish music.

We arrived in Dalyan and with a motorcycle escort were ledto our hotel (Dalyan Çelik Apart Hotel). Jack and Judy retired for theevening but Kathy and I decided to take a passeggiata. The mainstreet is lined with restaurants and bars, many of them with large-screen televisions showing soccer for their British clients. We thenfound the water front as Dalyan lays along the eastern edge of theboðazý or straits between a lake (Köyceðiz Gölü) and theMediterranean. A park ran along the water’s edge with a path lined with trees. It was dark, still and peaceful, with

only the sound of our footsteps.

We emerged from under a bough, and I was struckdumb: there were the rock tombs as though projected from abeam or shown on an outdoor movie screen. The were carvedin the rock face of a mountain that was probably a mile or twoaway and across the river, but the floodlights made themappear as though they were only a few hundred feet away. Itwas, in the current idiom, awesome.

Ruin of a monastery

Fresco on the underside of a boulder

Rock-cut Tombs of Dalyan

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Dalyan affords three attractions: Lycian rock-cut tombs;the ruins of the ancient city of Caunos, and Ýztuzu Beach, or TurtleBeach as it is a nesting site for giant loggerhead turtles. As wewere told that Caunos was only a twenty minute walk, for whichwe doubled given our experience of the prior day, we decided totour the ruins in the morning, relax in the early afternoon, andvisit the beach in the late afternoon.

About 9:30am we walked to the river which we needed tocross in order to reach Caunos. A matronly Turkish woman servedas our Charon, and for four 4 Turkish Lire rowed us across. Theroad to the ruin was paved and flat, the air was still cool and fresh,and orchards and fields, with vines and flowers, lined the fencesalong the way. I thought that we might match the estimate oftwenty minutes to the site, but the estimate was based oncontinuous movement. Jack, Judy and Kathy are avidgardeners, and so each flower and plant had to be identifiedand admired, often with a respite.

Caunos proved worthy of our trek. The most notableartifacts being a theater (we tested the acoustics); a bath; asanctuary of Apollo with other memorials; and a colonnade(without the columns).

At three in the afternoon, the sun begins to lose itsintensity, and so I thought that it would be the appropriatetime to take one of the many boats that take passengers toand from Ýztuzu Beach; but I had failed to understand thepurpose of the beach and the rhythms of the local culture. The beach provides a place where people can be roasted bythe sun in its most intense period; thus the boats departed at10:00am and ceased at 3:00pm. We were leaving the nextday for Kalkan, an estimated two-hour drive; and so I proposed that we change our plan, and visit the beachtomorrow morning, be back at noon for lunch, and then drive during the heat of the day. A well-reasoned argument,I thought. Unfortunately reality beat logic.


We set off the next morning promptly at 10:00am, and figuring that we would sit in the sun for a fewminutes, jump in the sea to cool off, and then return in forty-five minutes. We would be on our way to Kalkan bynoon. And then we heard the announcement: the first return boat was a 1:00pm. Turks often use the phrase inºalla,which translates, "God willing." I was beginning to see why.

Ýztuzu Beach

Ruins of a temple at Caunos

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Our boat chugged rhythmically down the river, veering left and right according to the course of the river. Wegazed at the rock-cut tombs, the rushes, the birds and an occasional jumping fish; but after a while, we all facedforward. Rather than reflect on my own jumble of thoughts, I studied my fellow passengers. There was a motherand daughter: the latter appeared to be about fifteen years old, smooth tawny skin and dark flashing eyes highlightedby dark brown lashes; the mother, while proportional, was a greatly enlarged version. There was a middle-agedwoman with burnt orange hair, thin–almost gaunt–and seemingly intense as she read her two-inch thick novel. There was a couple with a baby who was absolutely beautiful and captivating, especially to the couple sitting next toher mother, who allowed the young woman to hold the child. The joy in her face was beautiful. And finally therewas the captain, who nonchalantly steered the ship with one hand resting on the wheel while in the other dangled acigarette as he squinted into the sun. He reminded me of HumphreyBogart in African Queen except that his gut stretched to the limit hisgrease-stained T-shirt.

We reached the beach and settled under a couple of strawumbrellas. The sun was already intense to the degree that I felt that I was being burned rather than tanned. After a swim and a stroll,there was nothing to do but simply gaze at the scenery; but it wasnot always a pretty sight. When one views ancient Greek statues aswe did in the Ephesus museum, one can understand the appreciationthe Greeks had for the human body. The statues of Apollo, Adonis,Aphrodite and Hera attest to this admiration. Looking at thespecimens on this beach, I don’t think they were what the Greekshad in mind. As I recall, the bikini swimsuit was popularized by theFrench actress Brigitte Bardot, as she and the suit seemed made foreach other; alas, not all women are. On the male side, Mark Spitz, or whoever is the latest Olympic swimmingchampion, looks great in Speedo briefs, but on a man with a belly that droops over his belt-line and a butt that’sshriveled, it can only be an embarrassment. At these images, I felt compelled to turn away.

In a tourist spot, one not only meets the locals but also other foreign visitors, and I often scrutinize peoplewith the intent of identifying their nationality. So when we had boarded the boat to return to Dalyan, I and mycompanions played this guessing game. During this endeavor, I realized that my shoes were full of sand, and so Iwent forward to wash them in the water where I met two couples boarding the boat. One of the men addressed me,but I didn’t understand a word. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I only speak English.” “I am speaking English!” he said stridently. “I’m Scottish!” I stood dumb-stuck, and then burst out laughing.


We arrived in Kalkan the previous evening and checked intoour hotel. I anticipated that the hotels in Selçuk and Dalyan wouldbe rather drab and Spartan, but I was willing to pay a little extra inselecting Hotel Allegra in the hopes that were could enjoy itsamenities as much as the historic sites. My expectations wereexceeded. All the rooms had a patio with a view of the Bay ofKalkan and the swimming pool below. The latter had an ‘infinity’edge so that when one swam toward it, it was almost as though onewere swimming in the Bay.

Ýztuzu Beach, or Turtle Beach

Kathy at poolside at Hotel Allegra

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Our tour this day was of the ancient Greek sanctuary of Letoön, where, according to myth, it was founded byLeto, the mother of Apollo and Artemis, having fled to Lycia to escape the wrath of Hera, the jealous wife of Zeus,who, in one of his amorous escapades, had fathered the children.

It was a rather small site: its main features beingthree temples of Leto, Apollo and Artemis, a nymphaeum, anda Byzantine basilica.

After our visit, we had a snack of fruit and nuts in thelocal village of Kinik when the amplified muezzin issued his callto prayer. A handful of devotees filed into the mosque, butthe great majority of men continued their conversations andbackgammon without looking up.

The next site was the ancient Lycian and thenHellenistic city of Xanthos, most notable for its Lycian rock-cuttombs and sarcophaguses, the most famous being the so-called Harpy Tomb. Anthropologists previously believed thatthe winged women figures in the frieze wereharpies–monsters from Greek mythology with the head of awoman and the body of a bird. It is now thought that thesefigures depict sirens carrying off the souls of the dead.

The history of Xanthos is quite tragic:

The Persian army entered the plain of Xanthos under thecommand of Harpagos and did battle with the Xanthians. TheXanthians fought with small numbers against the superiorPersian forces with legendary bravery. They resisted theendless Persian forces with great courage but were finallysuccumbed and forced to retreat within the walls of their city.They gathered their womenfolk, children, slaves and treasureinto the fortress. This was then set on fire from below andaround the walls, until all was destroyed by the conflagration.The warriors of Xanthos [then] made their final attack on thePersians,..., until every last man from Xanthos was killed."

Later, it was reported that:

By the time Alexander marched through Lycia in 333 BCE, Xanthus had recovered. Plutarch says thata spring near Xanthus overflowed at about this time, disgorging a copper plate engraved with aprediction that the Greeks would destroy the Persian empire. Heeding the omen, Xanthus submittedpeacefully to Alexander.

...in 42 BCE when Brutus attacked the city during the Roman civil wars in order to recruit troops and raisemoney, Xanthos refused money and men to pro-Republic forces engaged in civil war with the triumvirate ofOctavian, Antony, and Lepidus. Besieged and hopelessly outnumbered by Brutus' army, the Xanthians againcommitted collective suicide.

Ruins of the nymphaeum at Letoön

Harpy Tomb

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After dinner in Kalkan, we walked about the shops as Judy and Kathy wanted to shop for gifts. I wasinterested in buying a tray for Jared and for myself. We came to a shop with such trays and entered though I realizedthat these were elegant and expensive trays; the first one I inspected had a price tag of 345TL. The owner andcraftsman was working on a tray, engraving diagonal lines in a circle. I was surprised that he didn’t use any templateor drawn lines before engraving; he did it free-hand. He then engraved a curve with several sections; and then hematched it with a second curve a few millimeters from the first. It was a perfect match and the two curvesequidistant. Incredible!


To the east of Kalkan is the island of Kekova, on whichare the remains of half of the ancient city of Simena, part ofwhich sunk into the sea due to an earthquake in the secondcentury of the common era. The island is a sliver of land thatruns northeast to southwest with the island half of ancientSimena on the northern side of the southwest end; thus itfaces the mainland and a peninsula on which is the village ofKaleköy (formerly the other half of ancient Simena and locallycalled just "Kale"), and on its acropolis, is a castle built by theKnights of Rhodes.

In planning for the trip, I learned that there wereboats from Kaº (ancient Antiphellos), a town just east ofKalkan, that cruised this area but they are unable to getvery close to the sunken ruins. I then discovered that therewas a kayak outfitter that conducted tours. I wasenthused: this would be a great way to see the ruins andhave somewhat of an adventure and exercise. But now Ihad experienced the Mediterranean sun! On the water, Ididn’t think the temperature would be too hot, but surelyour faces would be burned to a crisp. Our hostessChristine suggested chartering a small boat. “I know a guyin Üçaðýz (ancient Teimiussa) that will take you out for

three hours or more for 30TL per person.” And so we did! We trolled the area and along the sunken ruins, thenanchored in a cove twice to have a swim. The onlydisappointing aspect was that our boatman spoke noEnglish, and so we could not converse about his life in hissmall Turkish village.

Metal work shop and gallery

Ancient Simena on Kekova Island

Kaleköy and kale (castle)

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We departed Üçaðýz and wound our way over the hills and into an alluvial plain that is adjacent to the sea. The rich soil is used to grow two crops in a year of fruit and vegetables, mainly tomatoes, with the use of greenhouses which are made of plastic sheeting. Almost the entire plain is covered.

Returning to Kalkan, we stopped in the town of Kaº, the ancient town of Antiphellos and port city of Phellosto the north. It is now a port city mainly for British yachts. My map identified a few ancient ruins of interest: acistern, a base of a Greek temple, a theater, and some Lycian tombs. We walked through the middle of town, butbefore we reached the cistern, Judy stopped to inspect some carpets. Kathy and I gave her up for dead as no one canescape the clutches of a Turkish carpet salesman.

As one passes a carpet shop, a mere glance, an almostinaudible word, perhaps a mere raising of an eyebrow is enough torouse the proprietor, descend from his lair, and invite the innocentpasserby to have some tea while he tells you of the little knownattributes of Turkish rugs that make them superior to all others. Like Circe, the enchantress of ancient Greek myth, one cannotescape nor resist until the golden fleece is in one’s hand.

Kathy and I searched some time but could find nothing ofany structure that would indicate a cistern; then again, cisterns areunderground. Kathy found a sign describing the cistern, and whilewe were reading it, the owner of a restaurant approached andmotioned us to follow him. He opened a canvass covered gate andflipped on a switch; then held out his hand indicating for us to enter. We descended into darkness while we couldhear the gurgle of water. Our eyes grew accustomed to the light so that we could discern the walls and supportingcolumns of the cistern, the size I estimated at 15 by 40 feet and an 8 foot ceiling. It felt as though we were in adifferent space and time.

We returned to the carpet shop as Judy was making her payment of 600TL for a runner as a gift to herdaughter Tricia. The salesman was adding the final touches of hisseduction, stating that had she been shopping for this rug at the beginningof the season, the price would have been 1,000TL.

We anticipated that we would be exhausted after our outing andwould not want to leave the hotel in search of a restaurant, and so weordered a mean at the hotel. Our dinning room was the terrace on the roofof the hotel. Candles, soft music, a warm soft breeze, and a view of the seacreated an enchanting setting. There were four appetizers or mezes inTurkish: aubergine (eggplant) and tomatoes; bean salad; sea grass (weed?);yogurt and dill. The main course was sea trout and rice almondine withshepherd salad; for dessert, chocolate pudding over cake. It doesn’t getany better.

Rug shop in Kaº

Cistern in Kaº

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Of our four-day sojourn in Kalkan, I had not scheduled an activity for the fourth day but on this third day, Ipleaded for rest and relaxation. I was exhausted. There were no objections from the group.

After a leisurely breakfast on the patio by the pool, Kathy and Judy read their novels while Jack, who had notslept well since the beginning of the trip, dozed soundly on a lounge. I wrote these travel musings. As I did so, twoyoung couples, who I took to be German, were removing their outer garments and preparing their bodies for a day ofreading and sunbathing. In contrast to the bodies at Turtle Beach, these were quite attractive, and I was able to enjoythis view as well as the scenery of sea and mountains.

Turkey affords sea and sun, and so it is nowonder that it attracts people who reside in climeswhere clouds descend to sea level and the sun doesnot make an appearance for an entire season. Still,the Turkish sun has a brilliance and intensity thatwould burn the hide of a rhinoceros, and so I wasastounded to see these Aryans expose themselves foreight hours each day.

Hunger struck promptly at noon, and Jackannounced that he was feeling carnivorous. On theadvice of our hostess, we looked for Hünkar, aneatery that featured kebabs (which Turkish restaurantdoesn’t?) prepared in an outside oven over arotisserie. Strictly speaking, a kebab that is rotatedhorizontally is called a Cað (ja) kebab while one that isrotated vertically is called a döner kebab. In responseto the demand for a healthier diet, chicken kebabsare available as well as lamb.

We had difficulty interpreting the menu, and so we sought the assistanceof an English couple at the adjacent table. Soon we were conversing on thesubjects of travel, books, theater, the teaching profession, and living in retirement. The woman said that she was a teacher of drama and English literature, but shewas never successful as an actress herself; but she was indeed theatrical, and puton a complete show for the next hour. It was fortunate for her students that shedid not teach history. In lamenting the removal of artifacts from Turkey, shestated: “An Englishman named Arthur Schliemann, who dug at Troy, smuggled theElgin marbles out of the country and now they’re someplace in England.” A trifectaof errors in one sentence! Heinrich Schliemann, obviously German, dug at Troy, as later did Sir Arthur Evans; andwhile Schliemann did take a few items for which he did not have permission, in no way could he have smuggled theElgin marbles, those having been taken from the Parthenon in Athens by Thomas Bruce the 7 , Earl of Elgin, andth

installed in the British Museum in 1812 where they remain. The Greek government has ‘requested’ the return of themarbles, but has been unsuccessful. While there are many arguments pro and con for doing so, the claim that theyshould be returned “to their rightful owner” seems to be based on a falsity: Greece did not exist as a state in the 5th

century BCE. As we shall see, the same can be said regarding Türkiye’s claims for artifacts by the crusaders.

Jack and Judy at poolside, Hotel Allegra

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It was a day of strolling about the town, shopping, and lounging and swimming, and then dinner at Guru’s,which is definitely a family restaurant as we were able to observe the family and their relatives at a nearby table. An elderly gentlemen in an electric wheelchair was in the restaurant when we arrived, and he was introduced as Guru’sfather. In a short time, an elderly woman and a girl of about fifteen to twenty years of age joined him, and then twoadult couples. Still later, another young woman, probably about twenty years of age, joined the group. The greetingsfollowed a well-defined protocol. The young women greeted the elderly man by taking his hand, kissing it, and thenpressing it to their forehead. In greeting the elderly women–who were dressed in traditional Turkish garb–the sameprotocol was enacted but the elderly women then reached to embrace the young woman, and they kissed each otheron both cheeks. In greeting the adult women, they only kissed each other on the cheek and hugged. While the mentalked more than the women, the women remained in the group and conversed as well. The two young women saidnothing and assumed a rather stoic affect that I could only interpret as this was an event that they had to perform butperhaps they would have liked to have been elsewhere.


We drove to the ancient city of Tlos, about 50 km northwest of Kalkan and then on a small, winding andnarrow road into the mountains, passing several small village on the way.

We could discern the Roman fortress in the distance as we approached. Tlos had been inhabited throughvarious periods, defined by the predominate ethnic group(s): Lycian, Greek, Hellenistic (Olympian Greco-Roman),Byzantine (Christian Roman), and Ottoman. Tlos was known to exist in the 2nd millennium BCE. The walls aroundthe acropolis and the large ruined buildings date from the Ottoman period. The highest parts of the acropolis wereinhabited by Kanli Ali Aga, a war lord and feudal chief, and used by him as a winter quarters during the 19th century.

It was a relatively easy hike to the top of the acropolisfrom which we could survey the surrounding countryside, whichwas a deep green from the many fields and orchards thoughthere were many farm houses and storage sheds.

The entire layout of the town could also bediscerned. On the side of the acropolis were Lycianrock-cut tombs, and at ground level to the southeastwas a stadium, quite likely used as a hippodrome forchariot races. To the southwest ran an aqueduct thatalso covered a row of shops and a church for which onlythe arches remained. Further to the southwest was a

Rod & Kathy descending the acropolis

View from a bath

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large palestra or outdoor exercise area, used for games and wrestling, and adjacent to a gymnasium; and further on,a large bath complex. At the end of this line of edifices was a large Byzantine basilica.

We had lunch at a outdoor restaurant across the road, and then drove to Saklikent (Hidden City) Gorge whichis reported to be the second-largest (20 km-long) gorge in Europe, and the longest and deepest gorge in Turkey. It isa spectacular place, with sculpted walls soaring high above. Four kilometers of the gorge is walkable after April whenmost of the snow from the Taurus Mountains has melted and passed through the gorge on its way to the XanthosRiver; however, it had rained heavily the night before, and so the water, normally clear, was laden with silt. Jack andJudy demurred the trek but Kathy and I forged ahead for a few hundred meters. Our resolve tested and our bodiesmuddy only from the knee down, we returned to splash in the fresh water from another stream.

We spent the evening preparing for our next adventure–Istanbul–andenjoying the surroundings and view from Hotel Allegra.


Our flight from Dalaman to Istanbul was at 9:50am. Judy was quite worriedthat we would miss the flight, but we had no difficulty in finding the airport, returningthe rental car, and passing security. It was a short and uneventful flight to AtatürkInternational Airport. One surprising incident: waiting at the same carousel, andprobably on the same flight, was Hidayet "Hedo" Türkoðlu, currently playing for theOrlando Magic of the National Basketball Association. At 6' 10", he is considered asmall forward. He graciously posed for a photograph with his daughter.

After checking into our hotel, Naz Woodenhouse, we toured the Seraglio Pointof Stamboul. We walked through the park of Sultan Ahmet which was filled withtourist and sightseers of all nationalities. Families with their children were crowded around the fountain in which thewater turned different colors due to the lighting. We were accosted by some Muslims, we presumed, who asked thatwe take their photograph, each of them handing us their camera. Jack and I were happyto do so, and so I took a photo of them as a memento of international goodwill.

I wanted to introduce Jack and Judy toStamboul and the Sultan Ahmet area, pointing outvarious landmarks. We walked through GülhanePark. On almost every bench was a young couple in‘very close proximity to each other,’ a phenomenon Ihad not observed in our two prior visits.

View from room at dusk

Hidayet "Hedo" Türkoðlu

Lovers in Gülhane Park

Photo of Muslims

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One of my objectives was the Column of the Goths, a Roman victory column datingto the 3rd or 4th century, CE. Nearby we found the remains of the Orphanage of Saint Paul,an institution founded by the emperor Justin II (565-578); it served not only orphans, butalso elderly people, the blind, and war veterans. Apparently, there were at least two churches in theneighborhood too, dedicated to Saint Menas and SaintDemetrius.

We reached the Sirkeci train station, famed as the terminal for the OrientExpress, the train that ran between Constantinople and Paris in the late 1800's andearly 20 century.th

We continued northwest to the area of Eminönü and thedocks along the Haliç or Golden Horn. It was rush hour and atorrent of commuters were rushing to catch their ferryboat homefor the weekend. In the midst of this flow of humanity weresellers of roasted chestnuts and roasted sweet corn on the cob.

Wedecided to end our tour of the Seraglio Point at the EgyptianBazaar, also called the Spice Bazaar. Reaching the bazaarrequired descents into two subterranean passage ways, onecontaining an entire shopping mall for all sorts of item. Weemerged from the passage way and entered the bazaar. On ourfirst visit in 2000, there were bins of spices right at the entrance,but this time we saw only a few shops selling spices while themajority were selling scarves and clothing, cloths, candy, andjewelry.

We emerged at the far end somewhat lost. Even when one has a sense of direction as to where one wants togo, it is often difficult to go in the desired direction as streets are not laid in a grid pattern. To make matters evenmore difficult, the city is built on seven hills, and so taking a particular heading may entail a steep climb only to findthat an easier and quicker path could have been taken without the strenuous effort.

Column of the Goths

Ruins of orphanage

Sirkeci train station

Corn Vendor

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In preparing for my role as guide, I had purchased a compass so as to navigate and also to determine thelocation of landmarks indicated by compass direction, such as, “the south wall of the church.” The compass lastedonly a week before it froze in place, and so as I passed a store, I saw an inexpensive compass in the window which Ipurchased.

To select a restaurant for our evening meal, we adopted the recommendation of the hotel’s manager: theBukoleon Fish Restaurant. We adopted the suggestion, but strangely enough, no one ordered fish. Both couplesordered a few mezes and one entré. The owner of the restaurant generously served fruit, tea, and a sweet, gratis. Itthen came time to pay the bill and a tip, and the proper amount has always been a mystery to me. Some guidebooksand people say that one should leave just a few lire as a gratuity is already included while others say that the waitershould receive 10% to 15%. There is also the problem of having the appropriate denominations. Even waiters andtaxi drivers who I believe are honest seem to take advantage of keeping a large denomination rather than providingchange. As both of us had a 20TL, we both asked for change for which the waiter returned 10TL and assume that theother half was his tip.


I enrolled us in a half-day tour operated by Backpackers, Inc. Our first stop wasYedikule or the fortress of the seven towers. Within the enclosure of the fortress is theGolden Gate by which the Roman emperor entered the city along with his victoriousarmy; it was partially sealed even in Roman times. During the Ottoman period, anenclosure was made using the wall as one side. The structure was used as a prison. One a clear, sunny day, it is a grand and imposing structure, providing pleasant views ofthe Marmara to the south and the land walls to the north. Inspection of two of itstowers gives a different impression, especially when viewing the wooden interiorstructures to which prisoners were chained and tortured before being thrown down awell by which the body was washed out to the Marmara.

Within sight of Yedikule are the ruins of the Church of St. John the Baptist and the monastery of Studion. Thismonastery left one of the most important legacies of Byzantium: the preservation of ancient Greek classics and earlyChristian writings. Not withstanding the documents found in monasteries and Nag Hammidi in Egypt, the Greekclassics as we know them have come down to us in Byzantine manuscripts. "Were it not for certain obscure men wholabored in the scriptorium anonymously in the ninth and tenth centuries, we would have neither Plato nor Aristotle(except in translation), neither Herodotus nor Thucydides, neither Aeschylus nor Sophocles, not to mention a host ofother famous and less famous authors."

In addition, between the first and fourth century of the common era, the scroll was replaced by the codex,that is, the bound book. Sometime before the eight century, books began to be copied in minuscule, the forerunnerof modern, lower case cursive. The earliest dated specimen that has survived is a product of the Studius scriptorium.

Imperial Golden Gate

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After a drive along the land walls, we arrived at the Church of St. Savior in Chora (Kariye Camii), meaning St.Savior in the Countryside, for the church was originally built outside of the 4th century walls of Constantine. However, when Theodosius II built his formidable land walls in 413–414, the church became incorporated within thecity's defenses, but retained the name Chora. The majority of the fabric of the current building dates from1077–1081. Converted into a mosque — Kariye Camii–the mosaics and frescoes were covered by a layer of plasterdue to the prohibition against iconic images in Islam. In 1948, the mosque was converted to a museum and theplaster removed in order to reveal and restore the images.

St. Peter

St. Savior in Chora

Madonna and Child

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Our next stop was the district called Eyüp, which is namedafter standard-bearer of the Prophet Mohammed. He is said tohave died during an Arab siege on Istanbul. A mosque was builtover his grave, and his sword in installed there. In the period ofOttoman rule, sultans would girt the sword upon their accession tothe throne. The district is also famous for a café named after aFrench writer named Pierre Loti. The café affords a magnificentview of the Golden Horn.

Our last stop was the Patriarchof the Greek Orthodox Church which isin the district of Fener. This namederives from the Greek word phanáriwhich means lantern, for there was alantern that served as a beacon or

lighthouse on the shore of the Golden Horn. Under Ottoman rule, the Patriarch wasresponsible for the behavior of adherents of his faith. Though he opposed the rebellionof his fellow Greek Christians in their quest for independence in 1821, the Patriarch wasstill held responsible: Gregory V the Ethnomartyr, Patriarch of Constantinople, was hungby order of Sultan of Turkey Mahmud II and his body thrown into the Bosphorus in 1821.

It had been my intention to explore the district of Fener. In our visit in 2005, wehad seen signs of revival to this very colorful neighborhood, but there was no evidence ofprogress on the streets that we walked. We easily found the famous landmark of the Greek Boys School (Fener RumErkek Lisesi), as it is a very tall building on a hill. However, it was also my intention to find the Metochion or churchembassy (St. George Metochi) of the Patriarch of Jerusalem, that is, the embassy to the Greek Patriarch. “Why?” youmight ask. It is part of this history of Constantinople, and because a manuscript of a lost work of Archimedes wasdiscovered there in 1906.

Also in the neighborhood is the church of the Panagia Paramithias (St. Mary the Consoler) which served asthe Patriarchal church from 1586 till 1596, in the years just after the Patriarchate was moved from thePammakaristos. The Panagia Paramithias was also called the Vlach Saray.

We began looking for the Church of Theotokos Pammakaristos or All-Blessed Mother of God. I had a map and a compass, but we couldn’tfind the church/mosque until a man offered to help us. He said that hewas waiting to meet a friend and that he had time to lead us, although hetoo had difficulty and needed to ask for directions; but at least he couldspeak English. Up hill and down dale, and around corners, past shops andthrough streets that were being torn up, presumably for re-paving, wefinally found quiet in this small church. It was converted to a nunneryimmediately after the conquest in 1453 and the Patriarch from 1455 to1587. In 1591, it converted into a mosque and known as Fethiye Camii.

At this point, I realized that the terrain was too strenuous and the search too difficult to seek these otherobscure churches; and it was time for lunch. We descended to the water’s edge and found a local eatery where thefood is already prepared and can be viewed just inside the door. One merely points to make one’s selection. It wascheap, it was delicious, and we didn’t have to wait long for the check. My kind of place.

View of the Golden Horn from Eyüp

Door at which Patriarchwas hung

Church of Theotokos Pammakaristos

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We walked south along the waterfront, enjoying theview of the Golden Horn on this beautiful summer day. Atthis point, I had only one objective: to find the Cibali Kapý orgate. Unexpectedly, we found the church of St. Nicholas (AyaNikola), which, as with most historical structures in Istanbul,was under renovation, but we were allowed to enter.

We did find the Cibali Gate, that is, a gate in the seawalls of Theodosius II. I could end my day’s adventure quitesatisfied.

After dinner, everyone wished to shop at the ArastaBazaar, but I needed some male solitude and so I wanderedabout Sultan Ahmet square, observing Turks enjoying theevening: children running about or playing with a toy that had

recently being purchased from a street vendor; a young man gnawing on a ear of corn; couples just sitting on a benchand gazing at the great mosque; vendors selling bottles of water, toys, roasted chestnuts and all sorts of trinkets. Ifelt the solitude but I didn’t feel alone nor lonely.

The beautiful building of the Haseki Hürrem Sultan hamamý or the AyaSofia bathhouse, with a facade of red brick and gray mortar, was bathed in softlight and its windows lit. It seemed to glow. As I turned the corner of thebuilding, I immediately came upon the Whirling Dervish Café, with anensemble of a three-person orchestra and whirling dervish. He turned counter-clockwise, his right hand palm-up to receive the blessings of heaven and his lefthand palm-down to transfer the blessings to earth, and his head tilted slightlyto the right, his eyes almost closed as though in a trance. As I watched, I toofelt somewhat mesmerized though often I would focus on his feet to see howhe propelled himself by kicking his right leg. He was a stately gentleman, tall ,though perhaps he appeared more so as he was dressed in white with a tallconical hat, tunic shirt, and long skirt. At the end of his performance, he simplystood with his hand folded in front. He had a presence–I could hardly draw myfocus away from him–and yet he seemed not to be aware of the crowd thatwas now eating and talking.

I continued my stroll, and after a few feet, I came upon an openingbetween a museum and a green wooden building. The former was the Istanbul Folk Art Bazaar and the latter was theYeºil Ev or Green House Hotel. I entered the space hesitantly, and to the right peered into a darkened courtyard thatwas beautiful and peaceful. I walked about this enchanting space with its lush greenery, palm trees, and sofras–lowcircular tray-stands usually used for taking tea. I then walked to the other side of the opening and to the rear of thegreen house and into a beautiful garden restaurant, complete with a spraying fountain. I casually asked the formallydressed waiter for a menu. Yes, I was quite right: way above my price range and I moved on.

I turned down a darkened street that at first gave me a slight feeling of unease, but as my eyes becameaccustomed to the light, I realized that the street was lined with restaurants, the only lighting coming from candles ontables. I had entered another dimension of Istanbul–the quiet dimension that I hadn’t yet experienced. All day longmy ears had been assaulted by cars and trucks whizzing by, crowds of people talking, vendors announcing theirwares, and backhoes tearing up streets. Now all I heard were the tinkle of wine glasses and hushed conversations.

Street in Fener

Cibali Gate

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As I turned another corner, I could see a rather grand hotel, complete withdoorman and bellhops in uniforms: The Istanbul Four Seasons. At Yedikule prison, ourTurkish guide, Ahmet, had said that when Yedikule was closed as a prison, the prisonerswere transferred to the building that is now the Four Seasons. I like what they did to theplace.

It was getting late, and my legs were tired, but none of the streets lookedfamiliar; I had only a vague notion of the direction of the Sultan Ahmet square. I enteredan intersection and stopped a passerby. “Could you tell me where is Sultan Ahmet?” Iasked. “You’re in Sultan Ahmet.” “I mean the mosque,” I clarified. “I’m not sure–I thinkit’s up that hill–what are you looking for?” “My hotel: Naz Woodenhouse.” “I’ve heardof it,” he said, “But I couldn’t tell you where it is.” We continued our conversation, and asI looked about, I realized where I was: one block from my hotel. I had returned from mymagical, mystery tour.


The first time that I entered the church of Hagia Sophia I wasfilled with awe; the second time with enchantment. Now I was enteringas a guide to my relatives. On the two past occasions, the interior wasdimly lit due to repair and restoration projects that were in progress. Then it was quiet and still, with only a few people walking about. Nowthat the restoration as complete, every lamp on every chandelier waslit, throngs of tourists, many following their flag-waving guide, wereswirling in a sea of humanity, and the roar of their voices echoed off thewalls and ceiling.

I enjoyed giving my spielof the facts and figures and shorthistorical anecdotes. I couldidentify architectural elementsand the logic of its construction,the deficiencies and impendingfailures that were rectified. Forexample, the giant piers thatsupport the pendentive and dome were made ofstone and mortar, but in order to shorten the time ofconstruction, the next layer had been poured beforethe previous layer had completely set and dried. Consequently the walls began to lean outward, andthe circular dome had become slightly oval. Thistime I actually noticed these aspects: the distortionof the arches in the galleries and the break or shift atthe circumference of the dome. I felt smarter andmore aware, but I didn’t feel the wonder.

As Hagia Sophia had been converted to a mosque after the conquest, several türbes or mausoleums hadbeen built for some Ottoman sultans and their family. The tombs of Selim II and Ibrahim are in the baptistry.

Four Seasons Hotel

Hagia Sophia

Distorted arches

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Southwest of Hagia Sophia is the square and mosque of Sultan Ahmet where once was the Great Palace ofByzantium, actually a complex of palaces and churches. Adjacent to the palace was the hippodrome, the shape ofwhich is still maintained by an open space and three surviving artifacts: the Obelisk of Pharaoh Thutmose III; theWalled/Bronze Obelisk; and the Serpentine Column, the latter made by the Greeks to commemorate their victoryover the Persians at Plataea.

Atop the emperor’s box (the whitesection of the figure) was a quadriga: achariot pulled by four horses. Those horseswere taken by the Venetians in the 4th

Crusade and now are in the church of SanMarco in Venice. The Turkish governmenthas requested their return even though theTurks were not in control of Constantinopleat the time of the 4 Crusade in 1204.th

At the southern end of the GreatPalace and now the area of the ArastaBazaar is the Great Palace Mosaic Museum,which houses the mosaics used to decoratethe pavement of a peristyle court, dating possibly to the reign ofByzantine emperor Justinian I (r. 527-565).

Quadriga

Mosaic at the Great Palace Museum

Foreground: SerpentColumn; background:

Obelisk of Tutmose III

Rendering of DelphiTripod

Computer generated drawing of the Hippodrome

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The plan for this day was to take a tram and a funicular to Taksim, now the center of modern Istanbul, andwalk downhill to Karaköy at the Golden Horn. While I very much enjoy seeing ancient Greek and Ottoman artifacts, Ialso wanted to observe current Turkish society. Taksim and the major pedestrian street leading down to Karaköy, Ýstikal Caddesi, formerly the Grand Rue de Pera, would certainly enable us to see the affluent and hip element ofIstanbul. But what about the less fortunate? Most of them live in the distant suburbs, but through an article on thewebsite of National Public Radio, I learned of an enclave of Kurds in a district called Tarlabasi.1

Formerly an enclave of wealthy Greeks as recently as 50years ago, it was now a ‘slum’ in terms of the conditions of itsbuildings and overcrowding of its housing. It also is a haven forsocial outcasts in addition to Kurds: drug addicts, Arabs, Iraqirefugees and transvestites. However, since it is close to theaffluent city center, private developers, and now city officials, aremaking plans for redeveloping the area which will certainlyconflict with the locals.

We walked down the narrow streets whose housesseemed in better condition than those in Fener. Grocery shopswere selling their produce, all of which looked fresh. Womenwere conversing with each other from their windows. Laundrywas drying from clotheslines strung from jetties. Children werereturning home from school. It all seemed quite normal.

We turned south and then southwest on Ýstikal Caddesi. We made a quicktour through the Cité de Péra or Flower Passage, a miniature version of the famousGalleria in Milan. We then found ourselves in an arcade of souvenir shops thatenticed Judy and Kathy to inspect some merchandise. I spotted a silver tray in anantique shop and made a bid well below the asking price. The proprietor answeredwith a firm “no.” Such were my bargaining skills.

Jack and Judy arecollectors of antiques, and so Iwas particularly happy that I hadfound a section of Istanbul thathosts 150 antique shops:Çukurcuma. In addition to theordinary, Çukurcuma specializes in Ottoman antiques, such as acandelabra with an Ottoman sultan's signature. Perhaps such anitem would not be impressive in Missouri, and so no purchaseswere made.

House in Tarlabasi

Strollers on Ýstikal Caddesi

Antique shop in Çukurcuma

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=119656931

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I tried to lead our little band out of the neighborhood northwest in orderto visit the Pera Palace Hotel, but my attempts were futile, and every mistakemeant a trek uphill. Uncharacteristically, I admitted defeat quickly and flagged ataxi.

Kathy and I had stayed at the Pera Palace in 2005. I had chosen thishotel because of its storied past: the lodging for passengers of the OrientExpress; the place were Agatha Christy wrote her novel of murder on the samesuch train; the hangout and watering hole for the Western press corp during theGreat War; and the initial residence of Mustafa Kemal before he moved tolarger quarters at Dolmabache Palace. Unfortunately, there had been little inthe way of renovation since those times. But Kathy had said that the hotel hadbeen renovated and worth a visit.

We pulled up to the entrance where the doorman greeted us andopened our car doors. Trying to act nonchalant, I led our group inside expectingto be confronted from wandering about. Instead, a bellman greeted us, andafter I stated that my wife and I had stayed there a few years ago, volunteeredto escort us about the hotel. It was impressive to say the least though photographs do not capture the elegance andfine taste exhibited.

We resumed our line of march down Ýstikal Caddesi toTünel, and took the funicular to Karaköy. We wove our waythrough a neighborhood of shops that specialize in heavyequipment: sump pumps, drills, generators, bathroom fixtures. Istanbul obviously has a very loose zoning ordinance, if any. Wereached the banks of the Golden Horn, and found a semi-circularbench which we shared with a Turkish family dressed intraditional black garb. We simply enjoyed the sight of this exoticcity, and gazed at the skyline, trying to identify the variouslandmarks of mosques and palaces. As it was about five o’clock,and ferryboats were plying the estuary. I floated the idea oftaking a small boat across to Eminönü instead of the tram, but was torpedoed three to one.


The Paolini’s and the Donovan’s decided to go their separate ways for the day: the Donovan’s for a ferryboattour of the Bosphorus and the Paolini’s for a walking tour of Stamboul. Kathy and I started at Fatih Mosque complexwhich was constructed by order of Sultan Mehmet (II) the Conqueror from 1463-1471, on the site of the formerByzantine Church of the Holy Apostles. We immediately found the türbe (mausoleum) of Mehmet II. It is adecagonal structure crowned with an imposing dome. The size of Mehmet’s sarcophagus and his turban was muchlarger than those of the sultans at Hagia Sophia, though I have not been able to learn how the size is determined. There were a few people reading, the Koran presumably, though I could not quite understand why they were doingso as Mehmet, while Muslim, was a political-warrior leader and not a religious figure per se.

Pera Palace Hotel

View of Stamboul from Karaköy

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Expecting an arduous search, we found the Column of Marcian quite easily. It isan imposing column but in a rather pedestrian setting, literally.

My next objective was the house of Amcazade Köprülü Hüseyin Pasha whichsupposedly had been converted to an architectural museum but it became obvious that Ihad erred in identifying its location and so we sought the ruins of the church of St.Polyeuctus, which has been designated an archaeological park by the city. There wasn’tmuch to view but the story is quite fascinating. When the Emperor Justinian enteredHagia Sophia upon its completion, he was heard to whisper, “Solomon, I have surpassedthee.” For years historians had assumed that he was referring to the temple of Solomonin Jerusalem. Recent finding provide an alternative interpretation. This church fell intoruin, and several of its decorative elements were then used in other constructions, and2

finally it was built over during the Ottoman period. It was rediscovered in the 1960'sduring the construction of a new highway.

The Church of St. Polyeuctus was built by the noblewoman Anicia Juliana anddedicated to Saint Polyeuctus. Intended as an assertion of Juliana's own imperial lineage, it was a lavishly decorated3

building, and the largest church of the city before the construction of the Hagia Sophia. It introduced the large-scaleuse of Sassanid Persian decorative elements, and may have inaugurated the new architectural type of domedbasilica, perfected in the later Hagia Sophia. The dedicatory inscription of Juliana's church is described as: "...afloridly rhetorical poem of seventy-six lines that originally encircled the entire central space of the church; it praisesJuliana's distinguished lineage (she could claim descent from the Emperor Theodosius I) and proclaims that ‘Shealone has conquered time and surpassed the wisdom of renowned Solomon.'”4

Possibly Juliana believed that she was destined to be an empress, or the mother of an emperor, but herfamily had been pushed aside by the family of Justinian, which was of extremely humble origins. Juliana’s disgustwas profound, and the church of Saint Polyeuctus is as much the result of thwarted political ambition as of piety. Itwas completed in 527, the very year in which Justinian came to the throne. Justinian isreported to have visited the church on at least one occasion, and could not have failed toread the dedicatory poem with irritation. Perhaps then his statement was intended tomake it clear that he had finally outdone the Solomon-imitating Juliana.

Base of the column ofMarcian

Turkish Tray Table

Palmette capitals from St. Poleuctus surmount columns of the façade of San Marco, and the2

two sumptuously decorated pilasters that stand nearby in the piazzetta, which for long thought to havecome from Acre, were undoubtedly part of the same parcel of loot taken by the Crusaders in 1204.

Polyeuctus had openly converted to Christianity. "Enflamed with zeal, St Polyeuctus went to the3

city square, and tore up the edict of Decius which required everyone to worship idols. A few momentslater, he met a procession carrying twelve idols through the streets of the city. He dashed the idols tothe ground and trampled them underfoot."

Ash, John, A Byzantine Journey, Random House, New York, 1995.4

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On our visit in 2005, I told our guide that I wanted to purchase a tray that Turks sitaround to have their tea. I remember that we passed under Valen’s aqueduct and entereda shop that was quite disheveled. A couple of guys were buffing trays so as to remove thetin and expose the copper. Obviously this was a wholesale shop that sold to the shops inthe bazaar.

I wasn’t sure whether or not I could find the same shop, but sure enough, it wasright where I thought it was. I wanted another tray, and Jared had said that he wanted“something metal,” and so I wanted two trays. I walked five feet into the store, lookeddown at a row of trays and found exactly what I wanted: one large one and one slightlysmaller.

I remember that I had paid about 60TL in 2005, so, figuring some inflation, Iestimated 100TL for the large and 60TL for the small–a total of 160TL. The proprietor wason the phone and so he had his daughter deal with me. Covered with a white head-scarfand blue, full-length robe, she was sweet and charming, but spoke no English. I wasprepared to drive a hard bargain. She talked to her father, weighed the two trays, andthen wrote the price on a pad of paper: 120TL. So much for my pricing and bargainingskills. But I was happy with my purchase.

Back on the trail of antiquities, we searched for the Atif Mustafa Efendi library,only because I had seen photographs and it seemed to be a very interesting building. Oursearch was in vain, even with map, compass, and supposedly helpful directions from thelocals.

Somewhat lost and weary, we hailed a taxi in order to reach Beyazit Square,formerly the Forum of the Tauri (bulls) and then the Forum of Theodosius during theByzantine period. Mehmet the Conqueror build his first palace on the site beforeconstructing Topkapý. The Ottoman Ministry of War was then erected in 1870, the gate being its surviving artifact. The site is now the campus of Istanbul University.

We wended our way through the Kapalý Çarºý or Covered Bazaar, thinking thatwe might visit some hans, that is, buildings that served as workshops and outlets forartisans. We found nothing of interest, and our legs were strongly urging us to rest. Weemerged at Çemberlitaº meaning the ‘hooped column’ in Turkish; it was the Column ofConstantine. In its original form, a statue of Constantine as Apollo was on top (seefigure). It was still a thrill to see this monument that dates tothe year 330 of the common era.

Our last stop was the mosque and turbesi ofMahmut II, the sultan that did much to reform the decliningOttoman Empire. It was closed for repair, so we strolled aboutthe cemetery which included such notables as Ziya Gökalp(died October 25, 1924) who was a Turkish sociologist, writer,poet, and political activist. As a sociologist and writer, he wasinfluential in the overhaul of religious perceptions and

evolving of Turkish nationalism.

Column of Constantine

Ziya Gökalp

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We also found the tomb of Hasan Fehmi Bey who was the editor-in-chief of Serbestî, an Ottoman newspaper,in which he wrote articles critical of the Committee of Union and Progress. He was murdered on the evening of April6, 1909, as he was crossing the Galata Bridge in Istanbul, by unidentified assailants.

Istanbul retains is reputation as a city of intrigue. A week before our arrival in the city, it was reported in theInternational Herald Tribune that three Chechens had been murdered in Zeytinburnu, the last stop on the T1 metro.


The Donovan’s and the Paolini’s again went their separate ways for the morning: Jack and Judy to tourDolmabache Palace while Kathy and I went to the district called Tophane which featured Tophane-i Amire or theAcademy of Fine Arts. The Academy is housed in a former cannon foundry. We had attempted to visit this gallery onour prior trips; alas, it was three strikes and still out. The gallery was closed for remodeling.

Across the street was the Kiliç Ali Paºa mosque and fountain. We removed our shoes and entered themosque, no other persons present. It was quite impressive–and peaceful.

Further north we encountered the Tophane Pavilion, constructed by order of Sultan Abdul Mecid in 1852. Itwas used by the sultans when visiting these weapons factories in the neighborhood and also to receive foreign guestscoming to the port by the sea, such as the Russian Czar's brother Grand duke Konstantin. It is no wonder that theOttoman Empire went into severe debt to the Western powers to finance these extravagant buildings for little-usedpurposes. The building is now used for a technical school.

One mosque per day is usually my limit, but as we approached and examined theNusretiye mosque, we were wordlessly invited to enter. The interior was quite plaincompared to the Rococo exterior but it had one distinctive feature that Kathy quicklyidentified somewhat indignantly: “That’s for me.” In the second floor gallery was aslightly projecting jetty with a gold mesh screen to obscure the faces of the ladiesattending the call to prayer.

There was one last hope to visit an art gallery: Istanbul Modern. We approachedwith trepidation. Was it going to be closed? But it was open, and it was fabulous! Nophotographs were allowed to be taken but I did find a few on the Internet that I’vepresented here.

Nusretiye mosque

Ceiling of BooksWriggling trees

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A simple but clever exhibit was a (false) ceiling of books which were hanging from the high ceiling of thegallery’s library. The most intriguing exhibit was a series of three video screens projected on the wall of trees, thebranches of which morphed so as to appear to wriggle similar to a snakes. It was fascinating and a bit eerie.

The most interesting exhibit was the interview of a woman who recalled her childhood experiences while onthe island of Cyprus: "1+1=1 North to South, South to North" by Kutlug Ataman. This piece consisted of twosimultaneously projected conversations of one woman's account of living on Cyprus. She describes her experienceliving in the Northern Turkish part of Cyprus and then moving in the 1970s to the south to live as a Turk amongmostly Greeks in Southern Cyprus. Sad but fascinating!

We emerged into bright sunlight and the awesome size ofthe Queen Victoria docked adjacent to the museum. It is a monster!

We took and taxi to Dolmabache and found Jack andJudy; then another taxi to Yildiz Park. We had a delightful lunchin the Malta Pavilion.

I had hoped that we would stroll about the park but eventually tour the grounds and buildings of YildizPalace, the palace of the last sovereign of the Ottomans, Abdul Hamid II. Unfortunately for us all, I failed to note thatthere was a line on the map which represented a wall that separated the park from the palace, and so we spent muchtime and energy climbing and descending in several futile attempts.

We finally did reach the palace complex but it was impossible to communicate with the staff as to what wecould actually see–that is, which buildings were open to the public. We concluded that not much was open, and sowe only toured the museum which is housed in the Bavarian style building. Though it had been used by AbdulHamid, it had been converted to other uses between 1908 and its conversion to a museum, and so it was impossibleto determine how it was used during his reign. The state apartments, where I assumed he and his harem lived, wasclosed to public of course. It was rather disappointing to say the least.


The first Ottoman palace built by the conqueror of Constantinople, Mehmet II, was located on the site of theForum Tauri or Forum of the Bulls, later the Forum of Theodosius. He soon realized that he wanted a more secludedarea for his residence and administrative center, and so in 1459 he began construction of his “New Palace” located onthe acropolis of the original city of Byzantion. The “New Palace” was completed in 1478 and later took the nameTopkapý or Cannon Gate based on a building housing a cannon located at a gate near the palace but which no longerexists. Topkapý was used as the palace of the sultans until the reign of Abdul Mecid I in 1856.

Queen Victoria of the Cunard Line

Jack Donovan

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Topkapý is not a building but a complex of edifices that constituted a city in itself (pop. 5,000); and as such, itis overwhelming for a tourist. Intending to beat the crowds, we visited the harem first for which Kathy and I sharedan audio guide plus a guide book. The place is literally a maze of corridors, rooms (over 300), and a few courtyards. 5

It seems that “every sultan ordered some renovations and additions according to changing needs and taste.” After a6

short while, I lost all sense of direction. The walls of the corridors and rooms were almost completely tiled, but thelack of sunlight and the gray of the floor and many of the walls made for a rather cold and hard atmosphere.

I believe that it is commonly thought that the notion of a harem isof oriental origin, but in fact the ancient and Byzantine Greeks had theirgynaeceum; similar to the harem, a section of the imperial palace ofConstantinople, known as the gynaikonitis, was reserved for women. Ithad its own ceremonial rites and processions as well as political dynamics.

The harem served as a training institution for future concubines ofthe sultan and wives of the elite royal pages in the residential area. Younggirls were bought at the slave market, having been abducted in territoriesconquered by the Ottomans. “Almost every sultan’s mother was ofChristian origin.”7

As the tour of the palace consistsof viewing one beautiful building afteranother, it is difficult to differentiate,though I think the most interesting wasthe Arz Odasý (Throne Room or Chamberof Petitions), not for its appearance butthe protocol used here. While used toreview the policy proposals of the divan,(Imperial Council), with his viziers, it wasalso used to received ambassadors offoreign powers upon their arrival anddeparture. The sultan neither spoke nor8

looked at the foreign ambassador, for itwould be beneath him to address anotherperson of lower station, and so the dialogwould be between ambassador andinterpreter in the vestibule while he listened and looked away.

A harem room

Throne in the Chamber ofPetitionsEntrance Arz Odasi)

Karaz, Claire, Topkapi Palace: Inside and Out: A Guide to the Topkapi Palace5

Museum and Grounds, Çitlembik Publications, 2004.

Ibid., p. 74.6

Ibid. p. 87.7

until the Sublime Porte took on this role in 1755.8

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Besides the many grand kiosks, Topkaý providesmagnificent views of the Sea of Marmara, Beyoðlu, theentrance of the Bosphorus, and the cities of Üsküdar (theancient city of Chrysopolis) and Kadiköy (the ancient city ofChalcedon) on the Asian continent .

Looking down from this ancient acropolis, one canview the ruins of the ancient Bucoleon Palace that laidalong the waters and described by its conquerors of theFourth Crusade when Boniface of Montferrat:

"rode all along the shore to the palace of Bucoleon, and when he arrived there itsurrendered, on condition that the lives of all therein should be spared. AtBucoleon were found the larger number of the great ladies who had fled to thecastle, for there were found the sister of the King of France, who had beenempress, and the sister of the King of Hungary, who had also been empress, andother ladies very many. Of the treasure that was found in that palace I cannotwell speak, for there was so much that it was beyond end or counting."(Villehardouin)

The remnants of the walls and towers still stand, but adjacent to them stands anew conqueror, not of these shores but of those of Italy when under the auspices of theRepublic of Venice, the Kingdom of Naples, and the Kingdom of Sicily in the 16 century:th

Turgut Reis. He was an Ottoman Admiral and privateer who captured ships (and theircargoes of goods and men) sailing in the Mediterranean, and raided and sacked townsand villages along the coast, bring much booty to his sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent.

View from Topkapý of the Golden Horn

Ruins of Bucoleon Palace and the statue of Turgut Reis

Computer-generated-drawing ofBucoleon Palace

Turgut Reis

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We retraced our steps to the first courtyard of Topkapý, and descended to Osman Hamdi Bey Yokuºu Sokak(street) and entered the courtyard of two magnificent museums: the Istanbul Archaeological Museum and the ÇiniliKöºk (Tiled Museum).

It would seem that most of the important archeological finds, and certainly most of the larger items, arestored in this museum. It is huge, and after a few hours, our legs were aching and most of us had to rest; Kathy and I,however, kept walking the corridors and snapping photographs as I went.

Most of the first floor contains Roman statues, many copies of Greekoriginals, and some of colossal size. I briefly viewed these as I had seen thembefore but my main objective was to view the Byzantine chain that had beenlaid across the Golden Horn estuary to prevent enemy ships from attacking themore vulnerable sea walls of the city. Having failed in many previous attemptsat finding intended sites about the city, I was apprehensive that I would failagain, but as Kathy and I turned into the first corridor of the second floor, thereit lay.

I then began to find remnants of the various churches that I hadidentified in my plans for the walking tours of the city, and also the statuesand reliefs of pediments. I was continuously amazed at the size andworkmanship of these pieces–that they had been accomplished by artisanswith tools that must be crude and inefficient by today’s standards. Notethe almost perfect curvature of this marble vase which is about three feetin diameter; and the dynamic features of this frieze entitled, The ThracianWarrior.

Byzantine chain

Marble Vase

Thracian Warrior

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Our flight home was scheduled for 10:50am, and the departure would have been uneventful had Kathy and Icombined our talents. In passing through Turkish security, we unknowingly received each other’s boarding pass. Prior to boarding, Kathy notice that she could not find her boarding pass, and when I looked at mine, I notice that Ihad it. But now where was mine? We found an information booth and the guy said that we could either return tothe check-in or proceed to boarding and explain our plight. I favored the former; Kathy favored the latter. Since itwas easier to reach the latter, we did so and found to our delight that someone had found my boarding pass andgiven it to the airline boarding staff.

No matter how well an airline serves it customers, there is little that can be done to lessen the discomfort ofa twelve-hour flight. The flight to Türkiye was at night, and while one was tired, it was almost impossible to sleep. The flight home was during the day and so everyone was wide-awake but could amuse themselves with reading orwatching the various movies.

On a three-seat row, my adjacent companion in the middle seat was a young boy of about four years old, andadjacent to him was his mother. I suppose that twenty years ago, I would have abhorred the idea of a child sittingbeside my on a plane, especially for twelve hours; but perhaps I’m mellowing and looking forward to grandchildren,or maybe it was because of the children that I had seen in Türkiye. They were so good-looking! They seemed sofresh and joyful–not sullen and whiney. Perhaps the reason was that their parents were so involved with them,especially their fathers. If you note the picture of the family walking down Ýstikal Caddesi (day 13), it is the father

Jack & Judy Donovan Kathy & Rod Paolini

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that is pushing the stroller while the mother is on the cellular telephone! That the father is tending the child wascommon. The children are often held and caressed. I remarked on this during the tour of Yedikule to our guide,Ahmet, and several other tourists said that they had noticed the same behavior. Ahmet said that in Türkiye, it iscommon, and quite acceptable, for a man (and presumably a woman) to give a child, even one that is a completestranger, a pat on the head, a caress of the face, or a hug. He said that he was warned not to do so in America.

And so I quite enjoyed sitting next to Adrian: drawing, playing the computer games, or just talking.

After about six or seven hours, he finally fell asleep in his mother’s arms, and so we had a brief chat. She wasreturning from a visit to her parents in her native country Uzbekistan. She and her husband had recently moved fromAlaska to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; so I could only conclude that he was in oil business. Uzbekistan had deterioratedsince the withdrawal of the Soviet Union, she said. The country was absolutely corrupt, and as a consequence,foreign investment had dwindled. She was quite happy to have emigrated and become a citizen of the United States. For all our craziness and short-comings, America is a wonderful place, and I’m very proud to be an American.

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Turkey 2011

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