Istanbul - "City of the World's Desire"

"If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul."

-Alphonse de Lamartine, 1943

Whether you call it Constantinople, Istanbul, or even Byzantium there is no doubt this is a rich city.

It's rich in so many ways: history, ambience, architecture, and culture. Its like a layered cake of history going back thousands of years. Capital to the eastern Roman Empire, the Byzantines and the formidable Ottomans This was once a city which, for over 300 hundred years, made Europe quake with fear. A city firmly on the trade routes from the east, with its boot firmly on the lifelines to Russia or Persia. A city, in its history that has been coveted, envied, and feared. A city that has had so much experience down the ages that it can justly make the claim to be capital of the world.

There is a sense of power here. You get the same prickle down your spine that you get in Rome, London or Vienna. The feeling that great things have happened here. It still has an imperial air as if the peninsula that houses Topkapi and Sultanhammet still sends its tendrils out to empire. An empire at its height that stretched from the Hungarian plain to the deserts of Arabia. And when you stand in the gardens between Hagia Sophia and Sultanhammet mosque, you still get the feeling of that empire and power.

The ghosts are still here. The ghosts of Theodosious, Constantine, and Suleiman the Magnificent. Every alley, every cobbled street, has ghosts. You can sometimes see them metaphorically flickering at the Hippodrome or between the columns of the Yerebatan Serai. I've never visited a city with just a sense of ancient history. It, being straddled between Europe and Asia, has a real whiff of the exotic - muezzins call the faithful to prayer, shopkeepers touting their wares in the Grand Bazaar, the whiff of fish on the Galata bridge, cats prowling the shadows and best of all the mosque-lined skyline seen from a Bosphorus ferry.

There is no doubting it. Istanbul/Constantinople has massive romance.

Quick Tips:

The success of Istanbul has been down to its position in the world.

The Bosphorus flows from the Black Sea to the Mediterranean. On one side you have Europe and the other Asia. It was the meeting point of all the great civilisations through history. It was smack in the middle of the trade routes. Whoever had control of the Bosphorus strait had control of the eastern Mediterranean. So it was coveted by them all - Greeks, Persians, Byzantines, Crusaders and finally the Turks who made it the centre of an islamic empire.

But its favoured attribute is the sea. It cuts up Istanbul into three sections.The most important and where most tourists spend their time is the peninsula housing Topkapi and Sultanhammet. There the great monuments are housed - Aya Sophia, the Hippodrome and the Grand Bazaar. North of this is a a section of water flowing into the Bosphorus called 'The Golden Horn' and crossed by the Galata Bridge. Across the bridge and still on the European side is hilly Beyoglu. Turkish mansions and houses line the hill as does the cities main shopping/entertainment street - Istikal Caddesi. Across the water is Asia, reachable by ferries - here lie the districts of Hyderpassa and Scutari. And railway connections which take you further into the Turkish heartland.

But for all its history and religious feel Istanbul is fully conversant with the 21st century where webcafes, cellphones and digital television thrive. It wants to compete with Western European capitals with its restaurant and nightclub scene. I was surprised by the European feel of Istanbul and how much its inhabitants are westernised but still keeping their faith in Islam. All are welcome in mosques and for a first timer this is an easy way to visit the start of the Middle East. Easy access Islam you might say.
Also, be aware of changing money. Many of the bureau de change away from Sultanhammet will not change up travellers cheques. Using a banks cashpoint machine may be the best way of obtaining money in Istanbul.

Best Way To Get Around:

To truly get the most out of Istanbul you must get out onto the Bosphorus.

Istanbul relies on the Bosphorus even more then Sydney does its harbour. In fact, not just Istanbul; this is the one and only connection between the Black Sea and the Meditterranean. Oil tankers can be seen sailing past, and not just from Russia but Rumania, The Ukraine, and Bulgaria. It's their only sea connection to the outside world. That is why throughout history control of the Bosphorus was so important.

The best way to see it is from the deck of a ferry. Their main port of embarkation is Emininou on the northern shore of Sultanhammet near the Galata Bridge. The ferry port is a modern area which has many facilities for travellers and especially Istanbullu commuters who pour off the ferries each morning. Taxis are nearby, as is a tram stop, and an easy walk to the restaurants on the Galata Bridge. The destinations for each ferries are shown in big letters above the ticket kiosks and a ticket to Asia costs 1.5 Turkish lira.

Not far from Emininou are plenty of bus stops and the cities European train station, the almost foresaken Sirkeci. At Emininou, you can get buses up to Istikal Caddesi and Taksim Square. Taksim Square is where the airport bus terminates. This costs 20 lira from Ataturk airport. Also of interest is the fact you can buy a Turkish visa before you enter customs for £20. There is no need to acquire one in your home city.

Finally, there is the tram. A silent, modern conveyance that glides from the City walls, across 'The Golden Horn', and along the Bosphorus to Dolmabache. Costing 1.5 lira this is an excellent mode of transport and the most useful stop is Karakoy on the Bosphorus bridge. A short walk here takes you to the Tunel - a 125 year old funicular which ascends Galata Hill to Istikal Caddesi. Worth it for the 1 1/2 minute journey and the beautiful blue iznik tiles which decorate the station.

There can not be a hotel anything like the Eklektik anywhere in Istanbul - actually, in the whole of Turkey.

The Eklektik is a brave move. It's a gay hotel in a city which has not tried this before. And it's not just a gay hotel, it aims high—its a boutique hotel. A hotel straight out of the style magazines in a city which fiercely observes Ramadan. A hotel that borders on camp in the middle of working class Beyoglu/Pera. It's brave, innovative, and I am pleased to announce, a massive success.

It's very new. The hotel only had its makeover back in 2005. It's positioning is perfect, at the southern end of Istikal Caddesi, and near Tunel Square. To get there from Istikal Caddesi, head along the southern stretch until you come to the gates of the Swedish Embassy. Next to it is a descending car park (adjoining the German school) and at the bottom, the narrow street of Serdar-i-Ekram. Walk past the grocery shop, and the first lane bending sharply to your right is Sahkulu Mah. Cobbles will take you up to a four-story townhouse whose doors are manned around the clock.

There are 10 rooms at varying prices and each one is decorated indivually. To reach them, you have to traverse a remodelled wooden staircase which creaks audibly. There is a reason for this creaking as pressure sensors activate the lights as you ascend. The bath/shower is generally up/down on another level. The rooms start at £40 a night for a single without bathroom to £90 a night for double with bathroom.

My room had a rose on its front door. But inside, ye gods! The campest room I have ever experienced. So camp in fact, I burst out laughing. I thought a gang of gay men had committed a decorative mugging. What struck me first? The parquet floor? The white sheets? The lavender walls? The oval mirrors? The bright pink sink/TV combo? Or was it the glass light globe dangling from the ceiling full of artistically arranged flowers? Well, ten out of ten for campness. I approve, though I suspect I was the butchest thing in there.

But the staff work hard to make it a success. The day assistants are Sabo and Ehan who serve the breakfast. Each morning, there is a spread of dates, bread, honey, olives, raisins, and steaming black coffee. I was there during Ramadan and they would often eat communally once four o'clock occurred. The guests were invited to eat with them. One more thing about Ramadan. This is traditional Istanbul and at 3:30 each morning, a muezzin strolled the streets wailing and beating a drum. It uncomfortably permeates your sleep, alerting you and the local faithful to first prayers. Local colour, I believe they call it.

Way back in the late 1960s and early '70s, Istanbul was the start of the "Hippy Trail"

From here, travelers would pass across Turkey, Jordan, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan (imagine doing that today?) and ended up in Nepalese Kathmandu or on the Indian beaches of Goa. Those about to attempt this journey of at least two months, would gather at the Pudding Shop which acted as an unofficial travelers' centre for those about to take the plunge. Before the days of travel guides, they would seek advice from those who had already done it or a travelers' noticeboard. This small restaurant in the heart of Sultanhammet took the place of the internet or, dare I say it?, Igougo?

Of course in the 21st century, the hippies have long gone. The restaurant itself is a nice little canteen situated opposite Sultanhammet mosque and the Hippodrome. Instead of the hippy trail, it is on the tour party trail. They pile in here at lunchtime after Topkapi and taste the moderate Turkish food on sale. It is a place to say that you have "been too" rather then a great restaurant in itself. It also, rightly, trades on its past with newspaper cuttings and old pictures adorning the walls. If your restaurant becomes a travelers' legend then why not profit from it?

First of all, its setting is perfect at the start of Divan Yolu and within easy walking distance of the big sights of Sultanhammet. Its open to the street and has been renovated in brown wood. The restaurant has a light breezy air and the air of relaxation is helped by the canteen system where you pick out the food you wish. The menu is gentle Turkish with stuffed vine leaves or Russian salad for starters, vegetables with rice and lamb with potatoes/vegetables for main course, and chocolate pudding for desert. Along with a cold beer, it costs no more then 16 Turkish lira.

There are not too many seats downstairs but upstairs has about thirty more, although the stairs take some navigating carrying a heavy tray. I found a seat next to framed newspaper cuttings from 1969. There, the Daily Mirror was doing an article on the new phenomenon of hippies and their trek across Eurasia. The modern equivalent of the hippy, "the backpacker", is still in evidence in Istanbul. There are a number of travel agencies in Divan Yolu doing trips to the battlefields of Gallipoli, Ephesus, or the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia.

Istanbul does sometimes feel like a frontier town. The last semblance of Europe before heading off into the exotic east. The spirit of adventure lives on.

Bond got out of bed, drew back the heavy plush curtains and leant on the iron balustrade and looked out on one of the most famous views in the world - on his right the still waters of the Golden Horn, on his left the dancing waters of the unsheltered Bosphorus, and, in between, the tumbling roofs, soaring minarets and crouching mosques of Sultanhammet. After all, his choice had been good. The view made up for the minor discomfort and prickly feeling that he was being invisibly maneuvered at Hotel Kristal Palas...

From Russia With Love, Ian Fleming, 1956

Hotel Kristal Palas was based, in reality, on the most famous hotel in Istanbul - the Pera Palas. The Palas stands on the summit of a hill in the fashionable quarter of Pera/Galata with expansive views all around. For decades, the most exclusive and expensive hotel in the city, this was where those who rolled off the Orient Express stayed. The district of Pera was, for centuries, the abode of foreign merchants and embassies and still has a European and cosmopolitan feel. Its main attraction for visitors and Istanbullus alike is the great pedestrianised shopping boulevard of Istikal Caddesi. Your most memorable experience of Istanbul may be immersing yourself in the great tidal waves of people as they traverse this boulevard. To get a feel of workaday Turkey in the 21st century, Istikal Caddesi is a must.

It's also an excellent place to stay. There is a better and cheaper selection of restaurants and hotels then in the tourist scene of Sultanhammet. Granted, you will have to commute to the main sights every morning by crossing the Golden Horn, but I stayed here and enjoyed every minute of it. There is something authentic and Turkish about this hilly district. Old men sell chestnuts from braziers, people sip coffee in cafes, cats stalk in shadows, and Turkish music can be heard from windows. The surrounding streets are very atmospheric, and are redolent of 'Old Stamboul' - shadowy alleyways, steep and cobbly streets, hidden workshops, and the call of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer.

The hill of Pera is divided in two. Pera is the hill summit, Istikal Caddesi travels the length of the backbone with the district of Pera being west of the boulevard. Galata is the district running down from Istikal Caddesi to the Golden Horn. Both are ancient. Foreigners took up resident in early Byzantine times and were dominated by the Genoese and Venetians. They built the Pera city walls across the water from the main city walls of Constantinople. It was always the haunt of foreigners, and residents had their own name - 'Levantines'. During the 19th Century it became more stylish and European then the rest of Constantinople.. The number of wealthy tourists and ostentatious foreign embassies attest to this. Istikal Caddesi was called 'Grande Rue de la Pera' and woe betide you if you didnt promenade in your best clothes.

If you are staying in Sultanhammet, an afternoon shopping on Istikal Caddesi or a trip in the evening will not cost you more then 15 lira in a taxi. A more Istanbullu way to do it is via the Tunel. The Tunel is an underground train dating back to Victorian times where 90c will get you a ride in a carriage which glides at an angle through a tunnel to the summit of Galata Hill. The Tunel station themselves, at both ends, are works of Turkish art with blue iznik tiles covering the walls. To reach the Tunel from the Galata Bridge near the Karakoy tram stop is an underpass entrance, follow the signs past all the electronic shops to the northwest exit and emerge on Yuzbasi Sabattin. The entrance to the lower Tunel is a few yards away. Alternatively you can walk up or down the sheer Galata hill. This is an interesting walk especially if you combine it with the 14th century Galata Tower. The residents of the narrow steep cobbled streets leading down to the Bosphrous seem to cover them in electronic or musical instrument shops. And there are more cats then people.

The Tunel will predictably deposit you in Tunel Square, the southernmost end of Istikal Caddesi. From here, it sweeps northwards for a mile. The Tunel end seems to be a little more stylish - embassy gates abound, as do boutiques and hotels. The 'bufe' restaurants start about here as well, where you can pick up a tasty meat stew and vegetable dinner for about 16 Lira. I was in Istanbul during Ramadan and one of the most memorable sights was the queues of people outside the restaurants as 4/5 o'clock approached.

North of here are some interesting Victorian streets that lead into Pera. The narrow alleys emerge onto a concrete escarpment which overlooks the Golden Horn and western Istanbul. The Pera Palas holds pride of place here and is an Edwardian monstrosity where Graham Greene, Ian Fleming, and Agatha Christie all stayed. Like alot of Istanbul, it has a shabby glamour. Pera has recently been rediscovered and made 'hip' going by the number of boutique hotels nearby. I took a look at the Pera Museum on Mesruyit Caddesi. To be frank, a lot of the top floors are pretty missable, but the black marble galleries on floors two and three had some fantastic portraiture of the Ottoman sultans.

Back on Istikal Caddesi and heading north, you get a feel of the crowds of Istanbul. At all hours of the day, there are people strolling up and down, and on Saturday nights it can seem as if it is an army. Most of the shops are clothes, book, confectionaries with 'turkish delight', department stores, or cinemas and there must be about a thousand stretching up to Taksim Square. Galatsaray Square is the mid-point and a word of caution - although there are plenty of cashpoints down Istikal Caddesi. There are very few bureau de change who will change up travelers cheques. Your best bet is in Sultanhammet. Balik Pazan is a street on the northern side which is worth looking out for. It's pedestrianised, and for good reason, because it and the surrounding streets are smothered in seafood restaurants. The delicious smell of grilled fish permeates this area.

Finally, after a mile, you finish at Taksim Square. A vast concrete square which really is a bus terminus. It seems to be where most Istanbullus start their march down Istikal Caddesi and on one side are a set of cheap 'kebap' shops to cater for the hordes. Also, particularly if you traverse the boulevard in the evening, the Turks will talk to you if they spot you as a foreigner. Many are up from the country on business and are eager to tell you about Konya or Antalya.

Leave your Western European sensibilities at home, you are in the open East here. Istanbul has to be one of the most friendly big cities in the world.

There was one sight in Istanbul that I definitely wanted to see: Yerebeta Sarnaci, the underground cistern.

Back in 1545, the French traveller Gyllius observed the city's citizens lowering buckets through holes in their basements to obtain water. They had access to one of the underground reservoirs that dotted Old Stamboul. Built for the city's use in times of siege, they were built over and forgotten for centuries. This one dates back to about 527AD, making it nearly 1500 years old, and is the same age as the church/mosque of Hagia Sophia. The cistern is one of the most evocative and atmospheric sights in the city.

To get there, get off the tram at Sultanhammet stop on Divan Yolu and walk to Yerebatan Caddesi. The entrance looks like a stone tube station and it costs about 10 Turkish lira to enter. Inside a set of crumbling stone steps lead into stygian darkness. You emerge into a cavernous underground room stretching 200m or so. The room is lit by orange light throwing eerie shadows onto column after column. The columns rise out of the water-covered floor and reach the ceiling, its quite a sight. There are 336 columns with 4 feet of space between them. The flickering light shows off the antiquity of the columns as it resembles light from torches. The orange light only reaches half a column leaving the rest in inky darkness. The whole room looks like something from the underworld, as if there is something devilish going on in the shadows.

Before 1987, when it was refurbished, the only way to see it was via rowboat, but nowadays there are wooden catwalks weaving their way between the columns. James Bond came this way with Turkish ally, Kerim Bey and Russian defector, Tatiana Romanova in From Russia With Love. It does look like a film set, it reminded me of something from a 70s Sinbad film. The eeriness was compounded by the constant sound of dripping water. The centuries-old ceiling leaked like a sieve with quite large droplets falling from above. There are fish down there in the water; huge, orange goldfish which have probably lived down there for generations. They swim under the catwalks and can be seen nibbling the algae at the base of the columns.

A statue of the Medusa lies at the back of the reservoir though, stangely, she has normal hair instead of snakes. The statue is also upside- down and lit continuously with changing pink and green light. Medusa, eh? In a watery room full of columns? A fitting lair, I think. Perhaps this stone medusa is the real one, a returned reflection has turned her to stone. This eerie underground cistern brings on such thoughts. It's a place where you can let your imagination run wild.

The beauty I see in Sultanhammet mosque is in its lines, in the elegant spaces beneath its dome, in the opening out of its side domes, in the proportion of its walls and empty spaces, in the counterpoint of its support towers and little arches, in its whiteness and the purity of its lead on the domes - none of which can be called picturesque. Even four hundred years after it was built I can look at Sultanhammet and see a mosque in its entirety, just as it first did, and see it as it was meant to be seen.

Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories of a City, 2005


I have to agree with him. Sultanhammet mosque, a.k.a. 'the blue mosque', is one of the most beautiful buildings in the world.

My first view was standing outside Hagia Sophia and turning one hundred and eighty degrees. It loomed across the gardens and fountains of Sultanhammet Square. Six minarets spread out from its base and its central dome is broken up by lots of little mini-domes which are touched with gold. One of the most exotic buildings in the world? I was dumbstruck by its beauty. The way dome climbed upon dome, and the way dome size and minaret combined to create one of the most mesmerising buildings I have ever seen.

This curvaceous masterpiece was one of the last great mosques to be built in what was then Constantinople. The architect was a student of the great Sinan. It's called 'the blue mosque' due to the grey sandstone, which when lit up at night and at certain times of the day, does indeed look blue. They light up Sultanhammet each evening for a son et lumiere . Istanbullus really look after the gardens between this and Hagia Sophia. There, gardens are clipped into topiary with little bowers and fountains. Just before the compound is an ancient washing facility where the faithful clean their feet before entering the mosque. A reminder of the importance that Islam gives to water and cleanliness.

In the first compound, you can see the details up close on the mosque. It resembled a mostrous bulbous fortress with arches dotted with intricate carvings. You may be approached by Istanbullu carpet salesmen here, but they are the soft sell ("Is there any point in me asking you to come to my shop?") and have to be the politest hawkers I have ever encountered. Crowds seem to pass into a courtyard then to the rear of the mosque. The queue to enter the building starts here, off come the shoes, and black plastic bags are provided to carry them. Then you pass through a succession of arches and, before you know it, you are gazing up at a titanic space. The main worship area has a ceiling of half-dome clambering over half-dome until it reaches 100 feet above you. Everything is light and echoey; white walls with hundreds of blue iznik tiles and a great iron candelabrum dangling 10 feet from the floor.

Easily, one of the best architectural experiences I have had. Everyone around me looked equally impressed whether craning their necks or taking a rest on the white carpet with their backs against the porphyry columns. I came out of Sultanhammet on a massive high and I never felt unwelcome in this muslim building. Istanbul is easy access Islam, a chance to experience the culture without the religious baggage you might encounter in other cities.

The Hippodrome

Literally across the road is one of the most ancient sites in the city, the famous Hippodrome. We now travel back even further in history to when Constantinople was Christian Byzantium, the lingering legacy of the Roman Empire. Nothing much remains now except an oval park in the shape of the old racing arena. A thousand or so years ago, this is where charioteers to the delight of the populace and under the gaze of the Byzantine Emperor. This was where coronations and parades went on, great rows of stone seats once stood where the traffic rings the park. The grass underfoot was once sawdust trodden on by gladiators and speeding charioteers. It takes a little imagination to bring the Hippodrome in its heyday back to life.

There are a couple of unique treasures remaining. Most striking is an Egyptian obelisque from the temple of Karnak dated to 1500BC. Emporer Theodosious had it positioned on a plinth in 390AD. The bas reliefs on the pedestal are of his family and him at the races. What struck me most about this 3500-year-old monument was that it looked brand new. There was nary a mark of age on the whole edifice. Nearby is a pit with a spiral column reaching up 20 feet, moulded to look like an entwining snake. It sprouted two snarling snake heads but these now reside in the national Archaeological museum. Finally, at the far end of the Hippodrome, is a column dating back to 480AD which is in the worst condition of all. Once wreathed in gold, but stripped bare by the Crusaders when they sacked the city in the infamous fourth crusade.

Most of all, the Hippodrome is a nice green little park in the middle of bustling touristy Istanbul. It is a place to rest those feet and try to imagine that where you are sitting now was once in the middle of whipping charioteers and thundering hooves.

Oh, dont you just wish you had been there?

Ibrahim asked, "Master Ali, wherefore art thou come?"
He replied, "My Emporer, to perform your funeral service..."
To this, Ibrahim replied, "we shall see..."

Ali then fell upon him; and while they were struggling, one of Ali's assistants came in, and Ibrahim was finally strangled by a garter. Kara Ali received a reward of five hundred ducats, and was urged to remain no longer in Constantinople, but to proceed on a pilgrimage to Mecca."

Noel Barber, Lords of the Golden Horn, 1973

As you can see very few of the Ottoman sultans lived to a ripe old age. Most after serving terms of incarceration in 'The Cage' were deposed, poisoned, or murdered. The life of an Ottoman Sultan - or even if you were one of his brothers - was precarious at least. Sultan Mehmet was twenty years in the cage and when his brother died they came for him. He thought they had come to kill him and had to be physically removed. With nothing but concubines and mute eunuchs for company he had become quite mad.

The Topkapi Palace has dozens of stories like this. It was the palace of one of the most memorable dynasties history has ever produced. A dynasty that over time forgot its warrior roots and became absolutely decadent - harem girls, eunuchs, grand viziers, janissaries, and the famous Kafes 'Cage'. No stay in Istanbul is complete without a visit here. To me, it exceeded expectation. It was one of the best preserved and interesting palaces I have ever visited. Up there with Versailles, Blenheim, and Beijing's Forbidden City. The ambience of 'The Sublime Porte' is there for everyone to experience.

But it is the stories of the Sultanate which make this palace such a treasure. For nigh on 300 years the Ottomans terrified Europe. When Mehmet the Conqueror breached the walls of Christian Constantinople in 1453 he created a medieval/Renaissance superpower. Down in the southeast corner of the continent, far too close to call for some, was a bogeyman completely at odds with the rest of Europe. Sandwiched between Orthodox Russian and the pope in Rome was a Muslim superpower with a mission - the conversion of Christian Europe into Islam. Twice it nearly succeeded; at the gates of Vienna in 1529 and most famously in 1683. If the Austrian capital had fallen then the Sultans would have reached as far as Paris or Barcelona. After 1750, the Ottomans were on the decline, the old empire being "the sick man of Europe" in the 19th century. Race memory of the "infidel Turk" continues today with Austria being one of Turkeys main foes to its entry into the European Union.

To see where the fate of Europe was decided for so long head for Gulhane Park in the centre of Sultanhammet. Once in the park follow the cobbled road, past the Archaeological museum, to where the park opens up to the gigantic walls of the palace. The 'Gate of Salutations' is where you enter. 10 Turkish lira is the entrance fee (another 10 lira for the harem tour) and you have to pass through tough airport-style security. Its worth it when you see the 'The Second Court' - a 100ft square lawn dotted with mulberry trees and fountains. The eastern edge is covered in cloisters leading to the massive kitchens which fed the 5,000 people who worked at the palace. At the far end is 'The Gate of Felicity' which leads deeper into the palace and in Ottoman times was as far as anyone could get. Up close it is impressive, a giant arch decorated with gilt and carving. Each year Istanbul puts on Mozarts Abduction from the Seraglio with the gate as a backdrop.

The Harem Tour (covered in another journal) starts each half hour at the western end of this courtyard. But nearby is the Divan. Many of the Sultans were brilliant rulers, but others were just not up to the job or had had their wits addled by incarceration in 'The Cage' so the day to day running of the empire was handled by the Grand Vizier. The 'Divan' was where the Sultan would have audience with his Vizier. Life as a Vizier was pretty precarious; many a Vizier felt the edge of the executioners sword if he didn't measure up or fell afoul of palace intrigues. 'The Divan' itself is rather beautiful and covered in gold. Next door is the 'State treasury' where he used to meet with his ministers. The Sultan would watch his ministers debate from behind a lattice screen.

'The Third Court' was out of bounds to everyone except palace staff and Imperial family. The penalty for trespass was death. The most striking building here is The Audience Chamber. A white marble confection straight out the 'Arabian Nights'. It was a beautiful building of Muslim curves, domes and arches and was mainly where the Sultans did business. Across the lawn is the entrance to 'The Fourth Court'. A few rooms off here showed the religious significance of the Sultan as he was Islams chosen representative on earth. Which meant for some impressive Islamic relics - Mohammeds hair, jewelled Korans and a mother of pearl 'Dome of the Rock' given by the Patriarch of Jerusalem. The religious air was enhanced by a real life imam reading out loud passages from the Koran in the corner.

'The Fourth Court' are gardens overlooking the Bosphorus. The 'Kiosk of Ivory Pasha' was the most impressive. An ivory balcony overlooking a blue pool with arched Islamic colonnades. The whole side of the palace was a concoction of Islamic architecture - bulbous columns, arches and intense latticework. At the far end are some marble benches overlooking the Bosphorus and the Asian shore.

Topkapi is something special. It ignites the imagination. Some pretty terrible things went on here despite all the luxury. But it remains my favourite sight in Istanbul.

Correction. Probably my favourite place in the entire trip. Very impressive.

Once on the throne, Ibrahim proved to be the most detestable and debauched of the Ottoman sultans. A picture of him shows the bleary countenance of a drunkard, his turban tipped crazily to one side. From the moment of his accession he seemed to have one thought in his head - to make up for lost time. A man who regarded sex as a duty to be practised almost daily, his excesses were so much that even the harem murmured in protest, to say nothing of the government.

Noel Barber, Lords of the Golden Horn, 1973

Mere mortals could not pass beyond the first court but for those chosen to go into the 'harem' its few rooms would become their world.

The word harem means 'forbidden' . The only men allowed in there were the harem guards, the Sultan himself and the famous eunuchs. The world outside did not exist. But it was also a minefield, one wrong step and a girl may find herself ostracised or sidelined by the famous Valide Sultan (Queen Mother) and then there were the eunuchs to maneuver around. A harem concubine had to have her wits about her but the benefits if she caught the Sultans eye were stratospheric. She became the most powerful woman in the empire.

I'd heard about the tour from friends who had recommended it. So it was with high expectations and a fluttering stomach that I bought my 10 lira ticket. The tour starts in the northwest corner of the Second Courtyard. The tours are in English, French, and Turkish and the tour guides are very professional. You go with twenty people at a time which means it can take a little while to get around due to stragglers. But if you want to get the feel of the Ottoman Empire at its height with its legendary court then this tour is for you.

First of all, you pass through the door to the harem.

This is no ordinary door. Guarded at all times it allowed none of the residents of the harem to leave. Once through they never saw the Second Courtyard again. Muslims in the Ottoman world were not allowed to be slaves so the best harem girls come from the Christian world such as Greece and Armenia. The Circassians were especially favoured due to their fair skin. Each girl was converted to Islam and trained in the ladylike arts such as singing, dancing and playing instruments. They were watched over by the palace eunuchs. Feared and respected in equal measure, they were usually sold as African slave boys and castrated in their youth. They often grew to immense size with food and power taking the place or sex and relationships. The capricious nature of the eunuch was another hazard in the harem.

Inside the entrance passage are mannequins of the eunuchs. They guard a stone passage covered in cool blue iznik tiles which leads into the women's ablution area. An open stone courtyard is set up with a trough and a set of washbasins. The cells where the girls were kept until they caught the Sultans eye were just off this courtyard. Next we passed down a narrow courtyard to the quarters of the Valide Sultan (Queen Mother). She was the real power in the harem with everyone deferring to her. She got the best rooms too with gold filigree, carpets, and green tiling. The Valide Sultan had a big say in choosing the girls for the Sultan so it was best to be in her good books. She was also often involved in the Palace warfare when certain girls bore sons and became sultanas themselves. If a concubines son was in direct competition with one of the Valide Sultans own children then it made the girl and child very precarious.

Further passages took us to the Sultans quarters and his white marble bathroom was in a beautiful state of preservation with its gold taps and white marble flooring. It looked like he used it yesterday The Audience Chamber was impressive - Anatolian carpet covered the floor and there was a little balcony for musicians to play. The royal bedroom was richly decorated with a tiled dome, chandeliers, book niches and a divan in the corner. Finally we came to a set of rooms that was almost skirted through anonymously. It was covered in carpets and intricately tiled. But it was only when we were in the courtyard that we found out that we had just passed through the infamous Kafes (Cage). History knows this was where the Sultans relatives were kept often for decades. The tour guide seemed strangely embarrassed when she recounted this. It's funny how other people latch on to different aspects of the tour. One American lady was genuinely disturbed at the thought of the girls of the harem not even being allowed into the Second Court for the rest of their lives.

After the harem tour I crossed the Third Courtyard to the Royal Jewels. With wealth pouring in from a massive empire the Sultans could afford to indulge themselves. But the sheer ostentation took my breath away...golden water carriers with glittering jewels, swords with diamond encrusted pommels, medals of distinction from both British, Germanic and Tsarist empires, eggs made by Carl Faberge and most famous of all - the Topkapi dagger. A curved wicked blade with an enormous emerald on the hilt.

The Topkapi Palace takes you to another world.

St Peters beats it in religious importance, St Paul's beats it for size and St Basil's for probably sheer exoticism but to me the Haghia Sophia or Aya Sophia is one of the world's greatest architectural achievements. This is Turkey's Jewell. I can't think of a building that has stood for so long and witnessed as much as this "church of holy wisdom". Aya Sophia is pure history.

It stands in the centre of Istanbul directly opposite the equally stunning Sultanhammet mosque and a few hundred yards from the Topkapi Palace. The easiest way to reach it from Emininou or Galata is to take the tram up from 'The Golden Horn'. The tram climbs the hill up before heading west along Divan Yolu and its tourist scene. If you can hop off the tram at Sirkeci and have a look at the station. Istanbul was the terminus for the Orient Express - a train of super luxury that ran between the wars and whose fares were only afforded by the uber rich. Outside is florid Victorian bombast and the bedlam of modern Istanbul - inside is deathly quiet. The concourse is empty and it comes almost as a disappointment. There is an 'Orient Express' cafe and there is a small free museum. The museum has a history of rail travel in Turkey and plans of the station when it was built in 1888. Sirkeci station seems to be embarrassed by its past history and seems quite happy to be sidelined.

Then it is uphill to where the tourists gather and the entrance to Aya Sophia. Entrance is 10 TL and it is now a secular museum rather then a working mosque. It was the Byzantines who built the first stone. It was they who quarried that ochre red stone that the main body seems to be built of. And when you stand beneath, it's that red that is really striking. Justinian was the emperor and he wanted a place of worship fitting the capital of the eastern Roman empire. If Divan Yolu was the main imperial boulevard leading from the city gates you can imagine the sensation visitors got when they first spied it from a distance. Especially when a church with a dome was very cutting edge for the time.

The dome in fact became very famous and acted as a kind of beacon as the candles inside could be seen by ships on the Bosphorus in the dark. Being so visible made it coveted by anyone who took an interest in Constantinople. The crusade which went horribly wrong in 1204 put it to the sword; but the big one was in 1453. Mehmet the Conqueror wanted Constantinople and laid siege in one of the most famous wars in history. When the walls were breached 'The City of Constantine' was utterly sacked. Surviving men, women, and children were sold into slavery and many were massacred. The Turks rolled in and Mehmet took prayers in the church the day after the city fell. The cries of "God is Great!" were heard as the church was converted into a mosque. It was he who added the four minarets in each corner. It remained Islamic until the time of Ataturk. Mustafa Kemal himself had a great loathing of anything religious and opened the place as a museum.

As I approached the entrance I couldn't help notice the brickwork was in a shabby state (the roof looks very dusty) - in fact the whole thing reminded me of a giant kiln. Inside is a narthex (entry chamber) made of dark stone and echoing to footsteps. Then across the threshold and into the main chamber. The chamber is about 60ft in circumference and capped by an enormous dome. You get a true feeling of age especially when your footsteps echo on the marble floor. I spotted the column where Red Grant kills the Bulgar agent in From Russia With Love and those great porphyry columns were covered in Islamic shield decals. In fact I could spot where the Christian church of 1453 had been islamised. The pulpit had been where the imam read aloud from the Koran. I still felt the church wasn't completely obliterated - they never got rid of the frescoes high up on the ceiling of Christ with his arms outstretched. And the inside dimensions felt much more like a cathedral then a mosque.

I spent at least forty minutes inside spotting where the christian side was never truly eradicated. It was such a fascinating place. Even after a thousand years there is still the feeling of Old Byzantium poking through.

OK, it's touristy. There are just as many 'I love Istanbul' T-shirts as there are Ottoman antiques, there are just as many belly dancing costumes as there are painted miniatures - but you feel you are shopping in a "bazaar" and all its exotic connotations. The Grand Bazaar is an Istanbullu "experience". Something you will not find anywhere else in the world.

I loved it. I admit to being a confirmed a shopaphobe. When I buy a pair of shoes - I'm in, I try them on, and pay for them all within five minutes. But I lost myself in the Grand Bazaar. I spent over three hours in there which is a minor record for me and I enjoyed it so much I went back three days later. I think it is the feel of the place I found so fascinating. That so may of the old trades were still there. A street of goldsmiths, a courtyard of cobblers, a row of haberdashers with stalls showing a rainbow of fabrics. You have to have a heart of stone not to be swayed by the Grand Bazaar.

This is one of the oldest shopping centres in the world. Part of the huge building goes back to the 9th Century when it was used as the Byzantine ministry of finance. What you see today was built by Mehmet the Conqueror in 1461 only seven years after he breached the gates and took Constantinople for the Ottomans. The empire was built on trade and sold anything you wanted from all corners of the Turkish domain. The Sandal Bedestan was one of the most important parts as it was the end of the Silk Road from China (along with Venice). But also for sale were furs from Russia, jewels from Persia and spice from India. The bazaar grew so fast it encompassed 65 streets with 18 gates leading in from the outside. Most of the trading in the bazaar comes from gold. You may get to see the "black bag" shoppers who load up here in Turkey and sell for treble the amount back in the Russian Federation. Gold smuggling is still big business in Istanbul.

The Grand Bazaar spreads far and wide into Sultanhammet. The best way to reach it is via Divan Yolu - the districts main artery and where the tram passes by on the way to the city walls. When you reach Beyazit tram stop (only ten minutes walk from the Hippodrome) then turn north and you are in mercantile Istanbul. The streets around here sell everything and here is the Bazaars main entrance. Inside you are in a covered marble street 500ft long called Kalpakcilar Caddesi - the street of goldsmiths. The whole passage glitters. Jeweller after jeweller lines this impressive passage.

As you move further into the bazaar its immensity becomes apparent. There are over 5,480 stalls spread over 65 covered streets. It's so immense you will never see them all. It's got its own banks, bureau de changes, restaurants, and a police station. The stalls are housed in marble passages often lit by Islamic domes from above. The whole place is very well lit, but wearing on the feet . North of the 'street of gold' is a real warren with antiques at the centre and fabrics and denim to the west and north. But the sheer number of things to buy is astounding - antiques, every type of clothes, Turkish carpets, bolls of fabric, leatherware, 'apple tea', backgammon sets, belly dancing costumes, curved slippers, oriental lamps, calf-skin rugs, prayer beads, snuff boxes, painted miniatures, leather jackets, and pipe puffing nagiles.

The sell wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The young men who ran the stalls obviously took an interest if they noticed you peruse their wares but there wasn't the pushiness I expected in the Grand Bazaar. Moving between the stalls comparing prices your eye may be easily distracted by a cheap T-shirt; but that ivory chessboard might be a better bargain. I began to feel sorry for the stalls at the far back because shoppers must be overwhelmed before they get to them. If you need a rest there is a cafe in the antique section called 'Julias' Kitchen where a straight black Turkish coffee costs 3 lira.

And after an hour in the Grand Bazaar, you may well need it...

Let's talk about history...

History is many things to many people. To some it is remembering dates as a child in a dusty classroom, to others it's being dragged around castles against their will before being allowed to go shopping. But to me it is about imagination. It's about recreating worlds. It's about remembering those eras and aeons as they once were. Granted it does take the use of the minds eye. And you have to have a love of detail, an interest in the mundane - and perhaps an overly romantic nature. But when it all comes together you get to learn more about a country then a textbook or documentary will ever tell you.

I am mentioning this because I found the National Archaeological Museum in Istanbul perfect to indulge my love of history. The layers of the city on the Bosphorus are explored here. From Greek trading post to Roman religious capital, from the heydays of the capricious Sultans to the trenches of the Gallipoli peninsula. Like most museums a wee bit of background knowledge is preferable. You have to know who the Byzantines were before exploring their gallery. Caught between the Romans and the Ottomans the Byzantines were probably the most important of the peoples who inhabited Istanbul. They ruled the city for almost a thousand years and are sandwiched between the more prominent eras either side of them. But wandering the Byzantine statues and carvings gives you a new perspective on these forgotten people.

The museum is set in Gulhane Park not far from Topkapi (I wouldn't recommend seeing this straight after the palace as it would really be information overload). It never ceases to amaze me that the entrance to the centre of the one time world power is set in a park, and the main entrance is simply a open gateway in a stone wall. You head east and uphill to reach Topkapi, but before this is a courtyard surrounded by neo classical buildings. The courtyard charges 5 lira entrance and is in itself part of the museum. The courtyard is very atmospheric and dotted with rain-streaked statues from antiquity - Greek goddesses, fallen Doric columns, Islamic headstones and the ubiquitous Istanbullu felines.

Up the steps to the main entrance. This is a museum of the Old School with glass cases, winding staircases and echoing galleries. As soon as I entered my antennae twitched and I found myself in the pre-Roman gallery - the days when Turkey was Asia Minor and a Greek colony. As expected there were classical statues galore especially of Aphrodite, Poseidon, and Apollo. The best thing about the gallery was a colossal white marble statue of Zeus. Ten foot tall with bushy beard and clutching a lightning bolt. Pretty impressive after being buried at Mitelus for 2500 years.

The Romans were next and it was they who took over the Greek city states. They also replaced the ancient Greek statues with the new gods - the Roman Emperors. The museum had cleverly made facsimiles of what they believed the Emperors really looked like. The Caligula one was young, big eared and looked constantly nervous. Then came the Byzantine years, as said above they lasted a thousand years and carried on the Roman heritage in Orthodox Christianity. Their culture was just as strong as the Romans and Aya Sophia is the best example of their architecture that still survives. But their gallery was filled with treasure - the gold and silver jewellery was beautiful, as were the statuary including a slightly creepy one of a man with a wolfs head.

The Ottoman gallery contained something I had heard about and was on my list to see. One of the greatest sieges in history - the 1453 Turkish taking of Christian Constantinople was one most bitterly fought. The sea walls were close to impregnable and the Ottoman guns could get near enough to breach them due to a chain being stretched across the Golden Horn. The remaining links of the chain were in this museum and they were colossal. They must have been about 5 ft across and were still linked together. No wonder Mehmet II had to roll his ships up the hill of Galata and roll them down to the harbour - and still the walls could not be breached. For some reason, this impressed me more then anything else in the museum.

The Archaeological Museum utterly charmed me. It's a museum filled with more treasures then a lot of countries. Istanbul feeds the soul and the brain. It's a contender for the title of most interesting city, in terms of history, in the world.

If a city speaks of defeat, destruction, deprivation, melancholy and poverty, the Bosphorus sings of life, pleasure, and happiness. Istanbul draws its strength from the Bosphorus. But in earlier times no one gave it much importance: they saw the Bosphorus as a waterway, a beauty spot, and for the last two hundred years, a fine location for summer palaces.

Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories of a City, 2005

I cannot think of any other city in the world where you can visit two continents in one day.

There are places in the world where you countries converge (usually at major waterfalls) and you can visit up to three countries in a day. But there are few places in the world where commuters live on one continent and commute to work on another. The commuter route has to be one of the most memorable in the world with ferries plying the waters of the Bosphorus at all times of the day. And to experience another facet of Istanbul you really must get out onto the water. The views of the minaret dotted skyline are just as impressive as you have been led to believe.

But the best place to observe the Bosphorus is the Galata Bridge which crosses the 'Golden Horn'. Roads sweep in from Beyoglu and Pera and the bridge is crossed from end to end by a silent tram. But the bridge is alive with people. From one end to the other are fishermen, rows and rows of them dangling their rods into the grey water. From here Sultanhammet was visible in all its glory with a bulbous mosque at the end of the Galata Bridge. It looked like a great grey sentinel with minarets reaching into the sky. If you use the staircases in the middle of the bridge you can descend to a lower level walkway. This walkway is full to the brim with seafood restaurants where you can dine overlooking the Bosphorus on one of the forty types of fish found in the vicinity. Or grab a grilled fish sandwich for 2 Turkish lira.

At the far end of the bridge is Emininou where the ferries dock. It's a transport terminus with bus and tram stops and a busy taxi rank. But most are making a dash for the ferries . From here you can cross the Bosphorus to Uskudar, Scutari and Kabatas which is close to the Dolmabache Palace. I opted for a morning jaunt to Uskudar on a creaking rusting ferry. I rather like Bosphorus ferries - they really do look like they need a dab of paint which is rather endearing and the whole journey cost less then 1.5 Turkish lira.

As you pull away and into mid channel both sides of the 'Golden Horn' come into sight. The Sultanhammet side was just an ants nest broke by minarets of the mosques and the woods of the Topkapi palace. The whole of Sultanhammet was once covered by a gigantic seawall built to survive sieges. It wasn't that hard to envisage in your minds eye the defences of medieval Constantinople. Was Emininou where the Byzantines fled in their boats as the Ottomans sacked the city in 1453? Was Galata really where they stretched a "great chain" across the Horn so Mehmet had to wriggle his warships uphill to avoid it?

And then thirty minutes later you are docking at Uskudar. There is nothing to say you have reached Asia, no plaque or sign. Uskudar is too busy being a transport terminal with rushing crowds, choking buses and communal ramadan restaurants. There is a sea walk heading south from the terminal with pleasant views across the water to Europe. The Dolmabache Palace looked particularly spectacular from this side of the Bosphorus. But you can get as far as Leanders Tower which stands on a tiny island out in the Bosphorus. Also known as Maidens Tower it was built in Byzantine times although the tower is a Victorian invention. It was also featured in the James Bond flick The World is Not Enough and is possibly the best thing about that dreadful film.

But it's a nice walk along the esplanade/sea wall and on the ferry back the views of Istanbul just get better and better. Once you have returned to Emininou I would recommend the sea restaurants on the Galata Bridge. Some are very reasonable value and I was able to partake in calamari with garlic rice for only 15 lira. Delicious!

Sultan Abdul Mejid had just one stipulation - "it must surpass any other palace of any potentate anywhere in the world." The Palace itself was rococo gone mad. Over fourteen tonnes of gold leaf were used in the decoration. Mejid spent the Empires dwindling coffers on this monstrosity. The famous extravagant last gasp of the Ottoman sultanate before its demise.

Noel Barber, Lords of the Golden Horn, 1973

Whether it is crowds storming the Winter Palace in St Petersburg, Henry VIII jealously seizing Hampton Court from Wolsey, or the Chinese revolutionaries ousting the Emperor from the Forbidden City - all the great palaces of the world have a touch of pathos about them.

This is definitely the case with Dolmabache (translated as 'filled up garden'). It was always viewed as a metaphor for the decline of the Ottoman empire. It was their last throw of the dice, their last magnificent construction. They moved here from Topkapi in 1853 (although the numerous harem girls of retirement age still remained there). The ailing empire known throughout the Victorian age as 'the sick man of Europe' could not afford its expensive construction. Millions were spent on rococo gatehouses, French furniture, English chandeliers, and expensive furnishings. It's been called "the most expensive white elephant in history". A monstrous confection of bad taste. Maybe so, but the palace has a character all of its own. A poignancy that many a glass and steel skyscraper would envy. And to cap it all, it looks absolutely gorgeous with that white and brown streaked facade stretching 200ft along the Bosphorus waterfront.

I thought the palace was fantastic. Topkapi I would put forward as the best palace in the world - but this one is no slacker. It's also a little more difficult to find being nowhere near Sultanhammet. It's still on the European side of the Bosphorus but across the Golden Horn on the Galata side of Istanbul. If you start at the Karakoy end of the Galata Bridge you can generally walk to Dolmabache. At its northern end are a number of steps down to where the cruiseliners tie up and there is a nice modern area with restaurants and souvenir shops. After passing the cruiseliners you have to leave the shore and walk down Kemadesi Caddesi with its dusty sixties buildings. At the end they still don't let you near the sea and the street bends to a couple of restaurants and Nusretiye mosque. The main street of Necabetibey Caddesi starts here and follow the tram tracks for half an hour past the university. Kabatas is where the tram terminates and luckily there is a waterfront park which leads up to the palace of Dolmabache. The entire walk takes about fifty minutes. Entrance is ten lira and another ten lira for one of the tours. Please bare in mind that the palace is closed on Thursdays and Mondays for cleaning/maintenance.

As you approach it is the great gates which makes the first impression. The main entrance is the most impressive - swirling bombastic rococo. So ostentatious and over the top that it looks like something from the imagination of a fantasy film designer. The gardens are lovely and kept in very good condition with lion statues, fountains, and topiary. Baroque fantasy mixed with Las Vegas?

I took the harem tour whose entrance was in the far courtyard. The Sultan did keep a harem here but it was small fry compared with the harems of old at Topkapi. To enter his living quarters you had to affix pink plastic coverings to you feet so not to damage the parquet floor (my feet were so big they let me off). The treasures on display were very impressive and the interior designers seemed to have an obsession with gold leaf. On show were intricately decorated ceilings, furniture and walls - chandeliers the size of small cars hung from the ceiling. The harem rooms were lavish with rolling rugs, marble fireplaces, etc. The sultans room had an enormous bed and the audience chamber had a rug the size of a cricket pitch.

At the rear of Dolmabache were a number of rooms sacred to the Turks...the rooms of Kemal Ataturk.

'Father of the Turks' spent his last days at Dolmabache. The room where he died is kept in the same state it was back in 1937. Even his medical bottles are visible in a glass case. He still is for Turks their single most important leader in post Ottoman Turkey. Still revered in 2007 his portrait stares back at you from numerous shops, restaurants, and hotels in Istanbul. The man who single handedly dragged Turkey into the modern age. He grabbed the country by the scruff of the neck and dragged it into the 20th century - fezs' were banned, the army overhauled and the economy stimulated. His features still glare back from a 10 lira note.

Ironic that the most forward thinking Turkish leader spent his last days in this overblown palace built by a irrelevant royal dynasty. But that's Dolmabache for you...a mass of contradictions.