View Larger Map
Monday, October 21st – Sultanahmet, Istanbul
Have you ever had the experience of passing through a doorway and seeing everything around you change colour, even your clothes? Well, I haven’t either, but when Coen invited me to consider traveling with him and Vincent to India yesterday, I experienced something quite close to that. I suddenly feel inspired and joyful and the past few days have seemed sullen and grey on an emotional level. In my heart, it feels like stepping from a dingy basement in the sunlight when I think about traveling with them. I really shouldn’t feel so positive before meeting Vincent.
I do know I will like hanging around Coen though. He is totally easy going and out to have a good time. He’s kind and considerate too. Over breakfast, he tells me about the route they took from Holland to Alexandria. Like Hans and Hugo, they have been riding at a break-neck pace to get to the border of Europe. To all of them, the treasures of Europe are boring and repetitive and they long to get away from it. “We plan to do about 80 or 100 km each day,” he tells me. That’s just fine with me.
Today I want to see the Topkapi Palace. I can feel another case of AFC (Another Fucking Church/Castle/Cathedral/Chateau) coming on like a cramp in my gut, but I want to see Topkapi before it becomes too severe. Coen has a list of chores to do, including leaving Vincent a note in Poste Restante in the main post office, picking up his own mail and posting post cards, buying maps, visiting a bike store and shopping for a warm shirt.
I am one of those freak gays, born without a shopping gene and writhing like a straight man when I’m dragged into a mall. We agree to meet later at a local café. I set off in the direction of the Palace and he lopes off in long, rubbery strides to find the post office.
Topkapi Palace and its grounds are huge and admission is hugely expensive. Ouch! But one must pay homage to such monuments. The whole complex is surrounded by high walls. The palace is quite large and sprawling with is Harem quarters, the Imperial Residences and the other official halls and state rooms. There are four inner courtyards that are larger than the palace itself. These together are surrounded by high walls and are surrounded by the outer courtyard that is at least ten times larger than the combined inner courtyards and palace. It was first started in the mid-1400s and much was added in the following centuries.
I arrive first at the Imperial Gate, an imposing, 12 m high, arched stone and marble gateway that leads to the first courtyard. It is very imposing. The top of the door is adorned with gilded Ottoman calligraphy. There is a lot to explore in the first courtyard but I follow the path that leads to the second gate, the Gate of
Salutation, and the inner courtyards and palace. The second gate looks Disney-esque with octagonal towers with pointed tops on either side and its crenulated top. During the reign of the Ottoman Empire, only the Emperor was allowed to enter on horseback. Only foreign dignitaries and those on official business made it past this gate. Beheadings were executed outside this gate and there is a fountain there where the executioner would wash his sword afterwards. I feel queasy just looking at it. 
The second court, Divan Square, used to be filled with grazing gazelles and peacocks. I try to imagine this. Now there are only vulgar tourists like myself roaming around that the Emperors sought to keep out but history is merciless and always has the last laugh. I have a harder time keeping up with our guide this time
as the tour goes through the kitchens, the harem quarters, the treasury with its collection of armour, the porcelain collection, the Justice Tower…. It just went on and on until my brain hurt. The whole complex is the size and complexity of a small town. 
I retreated to the first courtyard where I could walk around on my own, but even there, just strolling through the walled parklands, I felt I was missing things in the bustling city outside the walls. After half an hour or so in the outer courtyard, I wandered back into Sultanahmet.
I met Coen back at the youth hostel for another cafeteria dinner. At a shared table with other backpackers I am twice asked “Are you the crazy Canadian who cycled through Yugoslavia in the war?” This is getting tiresome. I can’t imagine me keeping my mouth shut after experiencing the edge of the war, but now I wish I had.
Most of the travelers I am meeting are guys. One of them, an American named Bert has a particularly arrogant and self-centered bitch for a girlfriend named Cindi. She just happens to be right about everything and gets off on putting other people down. She has picked up that I can’t stand her. For me, that started when she started going on about how people in other countries who hate Americans are ungrateful for all the charity the US doles out to them and perhaps if the US bombed them they would learn a little respect.
The other travelers around her were mostly European and didn’t know how to respond politely so they said nothing. The US takes in far more in the way of profits from poor countries than it doles out in charity, I tell her, and it has destroyed democracies and installed juntas in countries like Greece and Chile, t get what they want. If another country did that to the US you would hate them too. We have not, is all she can muster in defense of her argument. ‘Respect’ based on fear just generates hatred for the oppressor, I retorted, I added, but that went right over her head. The US is still number one, she crows in defiance. Number one murder rate, number one at owning hand guns, number one at toppling democracies, the list goes on and on, I chide her to the amusement of Coen and the others. Now she hisses at me and puts me down in front of others whenever she can, not that I care. Having her disdain is equal to a compliment.
PHOTO 1: Topkapi Palace, the Imperial Gate
PHOTO 2: Byzantine column in the second courtyard
PHOTO 3: Hagia Eirene, in the second courtyard
PHOTO 4: Topkapi Palace, the audience chamber near the entrance
PHOTO 5: Courtyard of the Concubines
PHOTO 6: Topkapi Palace kitchens
No comments:
Post a Comment