In which Sid and Doris go to the Topkapi Palace, after several trips to Istanbul this is apparently their first time
Today were we not sure if we would find some esoteric thing to see, bimble around our neighbourhood here or Do A Sight.
On our way down the hill looking for cafes we found the Plaster Board Museum and certainly would have visited it, had it been open on Saturday. It is based in a converted old French orphanage and has a surprising green oasis in the heart of the crowded, jumbled Karakoy area.
Actually we are on our way to the number one tram to go up to the Topkapi Palace. We’ve been to Istanbul two or three times and not been, so here goes.
There was pretty much no queue and we also bought tickets to see the Harem. This is not an early morning burlesque show. The Harem was the family quarters, while the rest of the complex supported the palace as seat of power and ceremony. It had a huge household, of the size that creates its own logistical problem.
There are many guides offering their services. One pitch is ‘Half an hour in the Harem and a half hour in the rest of the grounds.’ This has the benefit for the tourist that they will see all the top banana bits with least effort and get on to the ice cream, and for the guide the possibility of getting in enough renditions to make a living. Here and along the Bosphorus shore a lot of people wanted to talk to us and Sid found strangers’ sudden interest in whether he might be from Australia a bit odd. What if he is?
We may have missed something in Topkapi, though the panels in English give enough for any museum nerd to be getting on with. As the Finnish joke has it: I think we have seen enough. Everything from the Dormitory of the Tressed Janissaries (picture is of their official Pipe Smoking Room) to the Divan Rooms and Halva Kitchens. (Sid will tell you the Finnish joke later.) Doris is reading ‘The Aviary Gate’ which is set in the Harem, not sure it is getting much of a thumbs up.
Areas of the Topkapi are under restoration, and one of the restorers’ challenges is always: what period do we restore to, when the building was being used and changed over such a long period of time. This shot of the ceiling of the Sultan’s Mother’s Hammam shows the challenge, you can see the different paint layers they have found and it looks like they have chosen to go back to Level 4.
The Sultan’s apartments and his mother’s are next door to each other and linked together. An early Sultan decreed that Sultans should always eat alone, and later Sultans did not choose to rescind the rule. “Mother, I am terribly sorry, I really have to go and eat dinner now.”
We did the compulsory Bosphorus-from-Topkapi-Terrace picture and headed for the exit. Satisfyingly the queues were longer when we got out. The area is so large that it can absorb a lot of people, even those following the flowing flag of their guardians: Malaysian flags, Fullertons of India, Japanese red but we didn’t hear a lot of Brits. Maybe not quite holiday time.
A quick detour into the museum shop for Doris to do some #virtualsouvenir hunting. This time we didn’t-buy a book on Iznik tiles, in honour of Colin Wing, an ex-colleague of Doris’s from BZW. Many years after leaving BZW we were in the British Museum and saw a familiar face. Colin gave us a big hello and said that he was working as an amateur guide and could he practice his Iznik Pottery tour on us. What a surprising joy, and after tea in the behind-the-scenes-at-the-museum staff cafeteria that was what we did. As so often with these tours, little of the detail remains later, but it has always caused our ears to perk up when we hear the phrase “Iznik Pottery”. So Colin, this one is for you, except you have almost certainly already got it.
Sid had fried little fishes by the water’s edge for the first time this trip. Eating by the sea is a special pleasure. Last night we called Mark and Carolyn whose own epic journey has been to sail from the UK. We had though to catch them further East in the Med than Minorca where they are following in the footsteps of Jack Aubrey in Port Mahon.
By the time we had Topkapied and eaten a leisurely lunch it was near 3pm. So when we ambled to ProBike they were shut, as they had told us they shut at 1pm today three days ago. Thankfully the mechanic lives over the shop and was home. Phew. The Neddies are gleaming and from the little riding we did do to get them home they feel larvelly.
Now out to a place to eat recommended by ProBike and back to see if we can get ITV4 streaming the Tour de France. Now that is epic.