199 A love letter to Turkey I
Islamic elements within the formerly Roman Catholic Hagia Sophia, now a mosque. Minarets (tall spires) were added to the basilica (1st picture), while Arabic calligraphic roundels bearing the names of Allah and Mohammad hang from the walls.
Above them soars a six winged angel (or seraphim), attendant of the God's throne in ancient Christian mythology.
Finding human representations offensive to their religion, the Muslims had covered the seraphims with plaster, shielding their faces with golden plaques when the basilica was converted into a mosque. Now that the mosque is a museum, the seraphims have been restored.
A not-so-fortunate seraphim, still with the golden plaque over its face.
View of the opposite Blue Mosque, from an upper window in Hagia Sophia. Unlike the latter the Blue Mosque was built, first and foremost, as a mosque.
Dawn greets us with a fabulous view of the Mamara Sea from our hotel room.
Looking past the sensational mythology of Helen, Achilles, and the Trojan Horse, Troy is a pile of unimpressive ruins.
Not to say that it wasn't interesting - this is where the first ancient bone tools were found.
Also it is a city rebuilt upon city, having been shaken by numerous earthquakes during its time. Match the Roman numerals indicating ruins from different periods in this diagram to the previous photograph. You can see the ruins were built one on top of the other, almost like a layered cake.
Off to see more spectacular ruins: The Temple of Trajan, at Ancient Pergamon.
Pergamon is one of the seven ancient cities addressed in the Bible's Book of Revelation. In it, God condemns the Church of Pergamon for its wicked and immoral deeds.
It seemed that the people of Pergamon worshipped Dionysus, the god of wine and orgy. And in the Theatre dedicated to Dionysus (see those steep steps running down the hill above), they would perform ceremonies that often descended into wild drinking and massive sex orgies.
Another day; waking up to the mountains on the backdrop of the Aegean Sea.
Pussy cat and I are posing in front of what used to be a Roman Bath at Ancient Ephesus. Ephesus is another of the seven cities mentioned in the Book of Revelation. Many cats now live in this city that has been long abandoned by humans.
All that is left of the Temples of Dea Roma and Divus Julius Caesar.
A little further on; we climbed a little hill to get a splendid view of Curetes Street leading down to the magnificent Library of Celsus.
Another modern day resident playing sentry to restricted areas of Ephesus.
Human sanitation is a burning topic in archaeological sites. This is an old water pipe made of clay (and yes, they already had sewerage systems and water channels in those days).
What most of us came to see: the public toilets, consisting of rows of holes in benches and a running water sewer underneath. Toilet seats are made of marble and dreadfully cold in the winter. In olden times, slaves will first warm up the seats by sitting on them for hours before their masters did their toilet business.
Temple of Hadrian, 14th emperor of the Roman Empire.
The magnificent Library of Celsus, built as a monumental tomb for the Roman governor of Asia. His remains were buried beneath the library, which leads me to beg the question if the place was ever open after dark. After all, the people of Ephesus are a superstitious bunch. They worshipped idols and believed in black magic.
So that was what God condemned them for in the Book of Revelation, for abandoning Him, their "first love", in favour of false gods and superstition.
The first known advertisement existing as a paving stone on Marble Street, advertising - guess what? - a brothel. Note the woman in the Roman headdress carved beside the footprint and the heart on the top left. The advertisement reads as follows: If you step to your left you will find eager women waiting for your love. The brothel today is nothing spectacular; no women, no love, just normal ruins and your creative imagination (sorry folks!).
Harbour Street, stretching out beyond your imagination to the old port and the sea. Apparently, the city's sewerage systems ran beneath this street to the sea as well.
Red cabbages, like gigantic roses in a village garden.
Sunrise framed by Cotton Castle, as seen from our loft bedroom at the hotel.
A hang glider enjoying the breathtaking view of Cotton Castle. Cotton Castle, or Pammukale, is not a castle but a natural formation of limestone deposits in the shape of white cascading terraces and icy blue pools.
It is white like cotton, thus getting its name, and looks like Switzerland, only ten times cheaper.
Lest you think the pools are icy cold, they are not. The water comes from a thermal source.
Who could resist? We hadn't brought our swimsuits, but we waded into the thermal pools just the same.
The ground was rocky and painful.
But I endured. Look at the water on the ground rushing, rushing, rushing into the next thermal pool.
We ventured out further, where we found other thermal pools with softer limestone deposits on the floor. They chalked up like clouds when we walked. It was lovely!
The water plunges down the side of each basin, ready to make its way to the next thermal pool.
Güle Güle for now, there will more pictures in the next post.
Photography by my dearest Edmund and me.
Also Read:
A Love Letter to Turkey II | A Love Letter to Turkey III