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Friday, October 18th - Istanbul (the Dolmabahce Palace)
Having booked my stay at the youth hostel for tomorrow onward and having a lock for my bike, I decide not to return to Sultanahmet today. I will be in the area as of tomorrow so today I want to spend the time closer to Besiktas while I am here. I need a day alone and a break from Ilio’s neediness, especially since I fee helpless to address it.
The one attraction nearest here that I want to see is the Dolmabahce Palace. Having passed it several times on the bus to Sultanahmet, I have grown curious. It is very large, more than half a kilometre wide, and over the high fences I can see the tops of trees and the extended roofs of the palace. According to my guide book, it is not that old – less than 150 years, which in this city makes it a definite newcomer, but it was the seat of the Turkish government from 1856 to 1887 and again from 1909 to 1922. Ataturk, the shaper of modern Turkey, whose head still adorns Turkish money and many edifices, died in the palace.
I catch the bus at the base of the hill south about 4 km to the stop opposite the palace. Getting across the street is scary as traffic lights are only a casual suggestion her at times. I am worried about cycling through this traffic tomorrow to get my gear to the youth hostel but I try not to worry about it too much today. It is one of those perfect autumn days that are warm and sunny and full of colour, the only type I have had here so far. There is lots of pollution from the sea of cars, trucks and buses, but along the Bosphorus there is an almost constant flow of fresh sea air either from the Black Sea to the east or the Sea of Marmara to the west. The steep hills on either side channel the breezes along the Bosphorus.
It is expensive to get into the palace, the equivalent of $20 Canadian, but it is easy to spend half a day in a place so large. I am free to wander around the gardens on my own once I am inside the impressive Gate of the Sultan, but to continue beyond
that into the palace itself, one must wait for a guided tour. There is no one interesting waiting with me today so I read my guide book in preparation. I have learned in the past that not all guides are wait patiently or speak clearly so a lot of information can be missed. That being said, the last guided tour I was on was in Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris more than four months ago, except for the Postojna Caves in Slovenia when I was alone with the guide.
I don’t think I am seeing the attractions in the right order. I have still to see the three greatest attractions in Istanbul, the Sultan Ahmed Mosque (also known as the Blue Mosque), the Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace, but Dolmabahce is the largest palace in Turkey. That alone makes it worth seeing.
Our guide arrives and although he drops statistics like a farmer sows seeds, he is fairly clear and patient, which is easy because there are fewer than a dozen in our group. First, he tells us that the palace had over 5300 resident servants, if one includes the royal harem and residence, which occupied the east end of the palace. The men’s quarters were on the west end and the ceremonial chambers and state rooms were in the centre part. The tour starts in the main entrance, the Medhal, where visitors would wait to be led into the appropriate offices by the protocol officer. It leads to the Secretariat’s Room, the great Ceremonial Hall with its domed ceiling and the Ambassador’s Hall with its flocked and gilded ceiling.
All the rooms are adorned to crystal, brass, gold and mahogany. There is also a grand Crystal Staircase with its banisters made of crystal. Like the other rooms, it has an incredibly large crystal chandelier. Dolmabahce has the world’s larges collection of crystal chandeliers, including one, a gift from Queen Victoria, that weighs almost 4000 kg and has 750 lights. I’d hate to have to polish that one.
There is also Ataturk’s room. The bed is adorned with spread like the red Turkish flag with white crescent moon and star, the modern flag he established. At the fall of the Ottoman Empire in WWI, which had sided with Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Ataturk led the Turkish War of Independence against the western allies who promised to carve it up into smaller nations. He transformed what remained of the Ottoman Empire into a more modern, Westernized and secular nation, drove the Greeks out of the Aegean shores of present day Turkey and changed the alphabet from Arabic to Roman lettering. He is a legitimate hero to modern Turks. The clock in his room where he died in 1938 is still kept at 9:05 am, the time of his death.
I can only take so much of museums or galleries before my mind overloads with too many facts and images. As soon as the tour is over I get outside to feel the breeze. I walk back from there, beside the constant traffic but on the water side with the air and vista of the Bosphorus refreshes me. In half an hour I have reached the white Ortakoy Mosque that sits like a carved jewel on the water’s edge with the Bosphorus Bridge arching high above in the distance. I don’t go in, but I rest outside of it, taking in the boats and birds that move around me along the waterway. If it wasn’t for the traffic I could live here.
I pick up flowers and a few groceries to replace those that I ate before climbing the hill back to Mario’s home. I dust and straighten the place before Mario arrives. There is nothing better than seeing that one’s trust in me has been respected and rewarded. Mario arrives at six, having battled through the height of rush hour. He could have waited a couple hours but I think he was anxious to see if his place was still in one piece and ready for his wife and baby’s arrival tomorrow. He is definitely pleased that it is and shows it by conversing with me for most of the evening.
He isn’t forthcoming about his trip, either because he wants to forget about work or because there are aspects of it best kept private. He does fill me in on the election that will happen the day after tomorrow. The longtime ruling party is about to fall to its long time closest rival, but both are right-wing business-oriented parties. A right-wing party with ultra-nationalist underpinnings that is rising in popularity is more worrisome to him. He tells me Turkey has one of the largest armies in Europe or western Asia but the largest part of it is used mainly to keep control over separatist factions inside the country, such as the PKK, the pro-Kurdish independence movement.
I carefully approach the matter of Ilio’s predicament, asking if he could help or if he knew any way Ilio could get elsewhere. He asks me a couple questions about what I know about him, but as soon as I start to tell him the details he loses interest. Mario is a self-starter with little sympathy or patience for those who fail. I suspect failure disgusts him. I am sure I am too sympathetic towards those who suffer or struggle, and too forgiving of their faults, but I am just as sure that I never want to end up as hard and dismissive as Mario is. To me, that would be the ultimate failure.
PHOTO 1: entrance to the Dolmabahce Palace grounds
PHOTO 2: the gardens and entrance to the palace
PHOTO 3: the Grand Crystal Staircase
PHOTO 4: one of the main halls
PHOTO 5: the bathroom (kidding)
PHOTO 6: Ataturk's bedroom
PHOTO 7: the Ambassadors' Hall
PHOTO 8: the quaint Ortakoy Mosque and Bosphorus Bridge
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