Friday, 10 September 2010

Aya Irini (Sancta Eirene)

Visited the Blue Mosque first thing after breakfast. It's a magnificent building but is unlucky to be right next to Ayasofya - any construction would suffer in comparison. Sultan Ahmet's decision to take on Ayasofya and attempt to equal or surpass it was about as well advised as a drunken boast to take on Muhammed Ali in his prime. And I mean the boxer.

I continued on down past Ayasofya, along a street lined with wonderfully well-preserved old wooden houses, to the Topkapi palace. The grounds were lovely, with shady trees and views out over the Sea of Marmara. I joined the throng and made my way into the inner palace area. Some intricately decorated doorways, lintels, facades.



The most interesting display for me was the holy relics of Islam - brought here during the Ottoman period. I wonder how authentic they are and how important or sacred Muslims consider them. It certainly reminds one of medieval Christendom and it's obsession with such things. Countless bits of the Prophet's beard, his swords, bow, mantle, part of a tooth of his. Swords and other items from a number of his companions. The arm and skull of John the Baptist (I'm sure a number of cathedrals throughout Europe would dispute this!), King David's sword and Moses' staff (these ones I was most skeptical about). Best, though, was Joseph's turban ... being an Egyptian, I doubt very much the man ever wore a turban in his life. Naive I suppose but I found these parts of it irritating. Christianity has rightly been subjected to rigorous historical examination and is better for it - thankfully few Christians today base their world view on a completely literal interpretation of their scriptures. Joseph's turban just reminds me that Islam hasn't yet endured such scrutiny. It desperately needs it, especially in the current world climate. It would help eliminate the medieval air that sometimes hangs over it and at times makes it seem more obstinate than it needs to be.

On the way out of the palace, I realised the Byzantine building I was passing was Aya Irini, Sancta Eirene. The man in the tourist bureau had told me it was closed except when concerts were held there, which disappointed me greatly.  The pictures I'd seen of this church looked intriguing. Bare stone with a large cross stencilled into the dome above the altar. As I  walked by, I  noticed with surprise that it was open, labelled as a museum and entrance was 5TL. I entered and was rewarded with a truly magnificent space. There had once been mosaics, no doubt, as there were still some clinging on around the rim of the apse. But the effect of the bare stone was much more striking - it gave it the feel of a raw medieval cathedral in a more western land, or the simply decorated, sometimes Crusader-built churches of Palestine, Lebanon and Syria. The Basilica's dome soared above impressively and if not parked right next to the world's most amazing building, would've no doubt been considered worth coming from miles around to see.

I wandered back, picking up some bread and drinks for lunch, and spoke to my darling Nadia for another good hour. The afternoon is sliding slowly towards the western sky and I'm in no hurry to rush out and do anything. I might go and have a look at the Grand Bazaar or I might not.

Little Ayasofya (Kuechuek)

Yesterday after Ayasofya, I  came back here before popping in to have a look at Little Ayasofya (Kuechuek) just a stone's throw away. A  beautiful space and three men came in and prayed while I was there. Next to the mosque was a courtyard flanked by little shops - booksellers and others- with a quiet coffee shop in the middle. Families played together, old men sat and watched the world go by.

I then strolled down to the water's edge which turned out to be rather uninspiring - the park area was strewn with rubbish (as expected of course) and the traffic noise was all-pervasive. I  wandered back and enjoyed a Turkish coffee in the restaurant next door to the main Deniz Konak building.

A bit of vege-out time watching TV and trying to read some things on the internet, and finally around 8pm I headed out for dinner. I took a slightly different route and stumbled on the bazaar, walked through it and arrived at the back of the Blue Mosque. I had dinner - Dervish Kavura and Ayran - at a touristy place with a duo performing traditional music along with a young guy doing a dervish dance. Music was quite good, as was the food.

I got to sleep easily again but woke at 4am and wasn't able to get back to sleep. Eventually gave up. It's windy this morning and not so warm yet. I think my cough might be almost better but I'm afraid to say it in case it isn't! What a curse it's been.

Thursday, 9 September 2010

Ayasofya

Spoke to Nadia at 1pm which was lovely. After breakfast I walked down to Ayasofya but wasn't allowed in because I wasn't part of a tour group. I sat in the park for a while reading about the sights in the Sultanahmet then went and had a look at the Basilica Cistern - spectacular underground space, full of soaring columns and water brought in via aquaduct from (apparently) 29km away.

Finally made it inside Ayasofya after our phone call at around 2:30pm. Superlatives are wasted on it. It's like nothing else on Earth and doesn't seem possible - the upper dome really does just float above everything else. Some of the mosaics were quite well preserved, in spite of a few centuries underneath plaster and paint.


The mosque visible from where I'm sitting is the former church of Saints Sergius and Bacchus, I think - I'll go and have a look at it in a little while.




How shameful that the Swiss people voted to ban any further minarets in Switzerland. If they were genuinely worried about changed skylines in the cities, they could've opted to limit the height of any new tower, whether minaret or anything else. There are already laws in place for this. The down side of direct democracy - the bigots get to have a say too.



Bought a bread bun and some boerek from a little shop just up the street from here and practised my teshukuer ederim. I guess tomorrow I'll visit the Blue Mosque and perhaps wander up to Topkapi palace. It's nice not trying to see as much as I can - it's times like right now, sitting on the rooftop, that do me the most good.

Breakfast on the terrace

A decent night's sleep, a shower and a fine breakfast and I'm feeling very content. My cough is still there but isn't too irritating just yet. I've run out of lozenges and throat spray so it might be a trying day. Nadia is calling at 1pm today - can't wait to speak to my darling love. Being separated from her like this just makes so clear to me how much I love her, cherish her, value her. She is my whole life, she fills my heart and my soul.

I walked to Ayasofya last night before dinner, down along the length of the old hippodrome. What a place. All of my senses were more alive and alert than they've been for years. Past the great Blue Mosque and finally to the venerable seat of wisdom herself. It was once again quite overwhelming. A  man walked beside me and spoke Turkish but when I apologised for my lack of understanding, he laughed and said he thought I was Turkish because of my facial hair. We chatted for a few minutes before he heading back to the new town - wishing me welcome in Istanbul.

Right now I'm once again alone here, gazing out on the Sea of Marmara as the ferries ply their way to and fro. Hundreds of gulls circle overhead, squawking at each other.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

Rooftop terrace, Istanbul

The sun is falling behind the houses in the west of the city, I'm sitting here at the top of the Deniz Konak hotel, all alone on this roof terrace except for the noise of traffic and the cawing of gulls. The Sea of Marmara stretches before me, minarets puncture the glowing sky, a fresh wind blows cool from the north. What a place. And what a perfect time to come here, when it seems there are so few other tourists around.

There is an edge of sadness to this, though...

On the plane over Greece, I  looked out the window at the mountainous peninsula stretching into the sea near Thessoloniki and thought, my God, this is Greece for f***s sake! Not just someone's tinpot backyard, but the home, the cradle of so much that our culture and all that goes with it was born from.

On the way from Rome to Istanbul


It's taken me a little while to reconnect with that dormant, nearly-deceased part of me but it's coming back lentamente, slowly - just like the way you should heat the water when making a proper Roman coffee. I've recovered quickly from the jetlag, in fact I'm feeling completely normal after an excellent night's sleep. Not sure when it'll hit me again.

Had a nice time with Ennio - he is a gentle, quiet man and I like him a lot. We spoke a lot of Italian this morning, or better said: he spoke a lot and I fumbled with the odd sentence.

I'm still coughing and I'm thoroughly sick of it. Otherwise I'm feeling fine. Listening to music on the plane is what finally broke through the wall yesterday. Living in the suburbs in Melbourne, working 40+ hours a week, commuting, thinking about Mum's welfare, chasing things for the building project, doing all we can in our other endeavours:  all in all, this adds up to too much for me to juggle successfully. It overwhelms any parts of me that aren't integral bits of the immediate to-do list. So, my European side, my soul, my connection with nature, my love of the outdoors, my relationships with family and important friends - all these things start to slip away. And after a long, sustained period, all these things suffer greatly.

Listening to Almeno sta volta, tears welled in my eyes as I felt just how alientated I'd become from all these important things. It was somehow carthartic, because now I'm feeling much better. During my travels, I'll do my best to nuture all these parts of me, to slow down, to resist distractions, to remain in each moment with all my being.

In an hour I'll land for the first time in Byzantium, Constantinopole, Istanbul. Probably the only city on Earth that could possibly rival the city I  just left, Caput Mundi herself. What an embarrassment of riches, how overwhelming, how very much that which I lack and long for in that sunburnt, prisoners' island at the bottom of the world, that place I very gratefully call home. Caput Mundi, il centro del mondo, il cuore della cultura e della civilisazione.