Istanbul

This morning (Wednesday) we were up at 3:30 to catch early planes, six of us to Istanbul to continue the tour, the rest heading home or elsewhere. 3:30 is just one of the brutal things you do to yourself in the name of cultural expansion. Once we got here, it was worth it. 
 

Obelisk in the Hippodrome

Istanbul straddles both sides of the Bosphorus, the straits that join the Black Sea to the Marmara Sea—and, after the Dardenelles to the west, to the Aegean and Mediterranean. (By the way, you can click on the google map and change it to look around.) Not only Turkey, but Romania, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Russia, and Georgia share the shore line of the Black Sea, and for some of them it is the only sea entrance. We were told that 500 ships a day pass through. The Bosphorus also marks the divide between Europe and Asia. We landed and have been on the Europe side all day.

Blue Mosque, Gray Sky

It's cold, windy, and rainy here. Many umbrellas broken and replaced today. Nevertheless, the crowds are daunting. I wouldn’t want to try this in the summertime—I hear the lines rival Disney World. We visited what is nostalgically called the hippodrome (horse racing track)—really a hippodrome-shaped public space in front of the Blue Mosque, where an Egyptian obelisk stands that originally stood in the Temple of Karnak in Luxor about 1500 B.C.E. It was brought here by Theodosius the Great in 390 C.E. I couldn’t get a good picture of it in the rain, but since it is amazing—and has survived almost 2000 years looking brand new even in this climate—I am including the Wikipedia pic.

Blue Mosque Interior

The tour guide said that the reason the hippodrome is only a memory is that all its building blocks were recycled into the Blue Mosque (or Sultan Ahmed Mosque), which is right beside the hippodrome. This happened in the early 17th century. 

The inside of this mosque, like that of many mosques, projects a beautiful air of unity, stillness, holiness, and peace. Though the walls are ornately painted and tiled, the architecture seems perfectly proportioned to carry all the detail. Interestingly, our guide could not read the Qur’anic inscriptions—he said most Turks do not understand the Arabic of the prayers they pray, though they read the Our’an in translation.

Hagia Sophia/Aya Sofia

Hagia Sophia Interior

I thought the Blue Mosque was incredible, but that is only because I hadn’t yet set foot in the Hagia Sophia (“Holy Wisdom”), which is what we did after a brief coffee break. This was originally a church, first built by Constantine in the fourth century. It burned down, as did the second one. This is the third one built on the same site, by Emperor Justinian in the sixth century. Louisvillians and bridge riders please note—he did it in five years (as one of our group commented, you could too, if you had enough slaves). It was the largest cathedral in the world for nearly a thousand years. It is much larger than the Blue Mosque, which is modeled on it—except that the huge dome has no supporting columns—according to our guide, it is all leaning on the keystone at the very top of the central dome. 

It was an Orthodox church (except when the crusaders took possession) until the fifteenth century when Constantinople fell to the Turks and it became the Aya Sofya mosque, and remained so until it became a museum in the 1930s. Now it looks as it never did before—the Christian mosaics that had been plastered over by the Muslims were restored, but the Arabic inscriptions and furnishings remain. For instance, at the south-facing front nave, the mihrab stands, pointing toward Mecca. Above it are two tiers of arched stained glass windows, then a smaller tier, and above that, a mosaic of the virgin and child (see pictures). 

Virgin and Child Mosaic High above Mihrab

Windows in between

We went to the bazaar after that, which is really just a giant shopping mall of little shops, nothing gritty about it except the merchandise itself. Entertaining though. Instead of being baldly pushy the sellers say, "Is it my turn now?" and "I'll cheat you better than he can." When one of us said, "I just want to walk," one said, "I just want to sell."

Lowest tier of windows and top of mihrab

Mihrab

Our hotel is called the Titanic, which inspires confidence, especially when the telephone “hold” music is the theme song of the movie. When I checked in I never wanted to leave, though, not just because outside it is as cold and wet as the iceberg waters, but because it’s so lovely in here. I didn't come for, nor expect, luxury hotels, but somehow the touring company came up with magnificent ones for amazing prices. 
After a mid-afternoon lunch of mezze in a nearby restaurant, I’ve been inside ever since. Late in the afternoon the porter rang the doorbell (yes, doorbell) and handed me a plate of fruits. A different porter from the one who brought my bags and showed me the intricacies of the giant TV whose screen showed a personal welcome to me (or I assume that's what it said, since it was in Turkish), and then came back to get my free wireless going. I could have eaten the fruit with complimentary tea or coffee of a few different kinds in bed in the white robe and slippers, watching the giant TV, after a marble shower and just before the Toblerone (not complimentary) in the frig, but the fruit, wing-back chair, and absolute quiet were enough after the brutal wake-up this morning.

Now to pack for tomorrow’s morning tour and overnight flight to Delhi. See you in another world!