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Dear Dr. Jirawan, He sidled up to me as I was walking down the stairs and motioned me to follow him. He open up a guest room and the first thing I saw was the bed with a wreath of slightly faded fresh flowers on it... and then the portrait. 'Ataturk' I said with what I hopen was the correct blend of surprise and awe.He nodded.. and moved the gate to let me into the suite. Privilege indeed. The bedroom furnishings were similar to mine and the bathroom was identical (except I have an adjustable shower head... if it worked!!!). The living room was furnished with Chinese silk covered chairs and a beautiful Chinese tapestry on the wall. I even leafed through the photo albumn on ther table. I smiled, the retainer beamed as he let me out.... and then did what must be genetically programmed into retainers. He took some old notes and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger whilst simultaneousdly clearing his throat. I gave him a million... it must have been OK... at least he didnt spit on it.
The rest of the hotel, however, could do with a slight face-lift.
My guide-book said that the Chora Church was closed on Tuesday. They were wrong... it was Wedensday. I kicked the sign and banged the door in frustration. It opened.... 'we`re closed'. I tried everything
I`ve travelled for a life time
I`m English
I`m an historian
Nothing worked. `Go the Hagia Sophia and they will give you a special pass`... wow. I could see that being successful. I tried again
Look, I`ll pay
Noone need know
We compromosed. No photoes, no lights...
but I got to see again what must be the best collection of 14th century mosaics in the world.
Walls, celings, domes... colours, shadows, perspectives, Bazantine elegance. Fabulous.
I then wandered through the streets, some with the 19th century wooded houses
(though most have vanished under the twin perils of fire and earthquake and many
of the remained suffer disinct signs of probably terminal neglect). This is solid
conservative muslim country... the people who voted in the current government.
The women are wearing the fully clothed outfit, barely showing their faces...
and yet most will offer a smile and a greeting to a foriegner who is obviously
a stranger to the area. The shops are simple and neat... the streets spotlessly
clean and yet, from the washing on the line, the people are pretty poor.
From some of the window boxes grape vines grow... and even across one street.
A trip to another world... and another time.
From there I decided to see some sights that I`d never seen before. So, on the advice of a student, I wnet to Ortakoy. It has a beautiful mid-19th century mosque built on some land slightly jutting into the Bosphorus. It looks like a 16th century Italian classical church, with classical columns and slight baroque touches... but it isnt!! The area around still boasts some wooden houses (but turned into twee 'shoppes') and some nice restaurants on the river front, where I had lunch.
And then I took another cab and went to see the mosque where Suliman the magnificent (in my school history books) or Sulima the lawgiver (according to the English text near his tomb) is buried. Under his rule the empire reached its greatest historical territory. His son was a famous poet.... and the decline set in from there! The main building is really well proportioned... and whilst one mosque is beginning to look suspiciously like another (Im gettin out-mosqued!!) I can believe that this has been designed by one of Turkey`s most famous architects.
I made the most of my one free day. Not done much else. The weather is pretty inclement (cloudy, windy and damp).
Richard Griffiths
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