Our little ship sails on the alley-alley oh!

The end of of our sailing season, and trip home to see our family and await the arrival of baby Kanoa, was fast approaching.  With good advice from new friends we had made the decision some months earlier to leave Kirrikie in North Cyprus/TRNC* while we returned to Australia.  The marina at Karpaz Gate is relatively new with good facilities, and quite a few people we knew would be staying on site, so it was an easy decision for us to go there. 

The distance we needed to cover was 240 nautical miles as the seagull flies. If we averaged 5 nautical miles per hour,  we expected to take about 48hours, given the conditions forecast. We had enough fuel to motor approximately 200nm if needed,  but that is expensive, boring and noisy. And the biggie for us was that this would be our first, proper overnight sail. Or two nights. A very fast night sail over to Rottnest a couple of years ago, purely a training exercise, could not really be considered a true night passage. So this trip was something I had been looking forward to, and was also nervous about. For Mike of course it was the big ticket item he had been waiting impatiently for all year. 

The only deadlines we had were our flight from Istanbul on the 8th of September, and the availability of our winter berth in Karpaz Gate from 1st September. This gave us a really good opportunity to pick our departure times, and where to leave from. We had been leisurely making our way back east since celebrating Mike's birthday in Kusadasi in July, and at the last minute decided to forgo returning to Finike, and leave from Kas instead. This would add about 30 nms to our trip, but a rare combination of Blue Moon and Supermoon was due to occur on August 30th -31st, and this would be an amazing way to experience our first nights on the ocean, so we decided not to miss that opportunity.

Checking out of a country is a bit different to buying chips in the supermarket, or dare I say it, a grabbing a book in the library, but in Turkiye you need to pay an agent to get you through the paperwork. Having decided to checkout on Thursday, Mike went off to discuss what was required with our agent. Came back to me happily informing that it was all sorted, we would move to the customs dock and checkout first thing on Wednesday morning. Say what??? A full 24 hours before what was agreed?  I mean, I had shopping to do! After some "discussion" we decided to stick to this arrangement, and therefore we had a hurried day getting all our ducks in row.

Next morning we followed our jetty neighbours, who were heading to Israel, to the customs and fuel dock, where other boats were gathering. Thinking we had a wait to come, we were waved in ahead and escorted by the marinaros to a clear spot on the dock. Seems our lazy,  'we'll hire the first agent we see' approach was a good one. The agent went through our paperwork again, found a problem, got it sorted while we waited for the customs officer to arrive. Tick tick tick...  he finally sauntered in wearing casual clothes and spent quite a while making all his stamps were set and inked. Bang Bang bang. It seems that all Turkish officials are wanna-be pre-1980s librarians in disguise. But then it was a quick procedure for stamp-stamping our documents, and suddenly, we were no longer living in Turkiye.  Then it was time for a fuel top-up, and farewell to the Aussies on their way to Israel and get out of town...

... and sail 17nm down the coast to Kekova where we planned to really really cross our hearts leave the next day. There was a small risk that a coast guard boat might possibly stop by and question why we were not making our way out of Turkish waters. I of course decided that it was okay for us to go ashore to have our last dinner out, Mike was fully convinced this was madness and did I want to hear about the birth of our grandson while I was in a Turkish jail cell????

We had dinner onshore,  at Hassan's.  

Our final night in Turkiye

Sailor's hats decorating Hassan's restaurant 

One more for the collection

It was all going well, and I was just about to say to Mike, see you were worried about nothing, and Woop Woop the coast guard boat appeared outside the jetty area. Round it went around the bay, and then came in - I was seriously contemplating what was our best escape route - back through the kitchen, would Hassan cover for us, would our dinghy tied up in front of the restaurant give us away?? Luckily, it was Victory Day in Turkiye. The guards had celebrations to go to, so checked out the rah-rah boat that was playing the victory day song, secured their vessel, turned off the lights and departed. Thank you Allah.

We were the only boat in the anchorage and so we spent a leisurely morning swimming in between preparing Kirrikie for our adventure, feeling very relaxed and privileged to have such a nice last day in Turkiye.

Farewell Turkiye - gliding past Simena Kalesi

We departed earlier than originally planned, about 1pm, hoping to motor out and be in the right area when a 15kn westerly wind would hit our starboard quarter (you can hear Mike telling me this, can't you)  and blow us east-south-east to Cyprus. It sort of worked, but the wind turned out to be 25kn which produced a larger side-on swell, making for a wilder ride than we would have liked as the sun set. I kept 'enquiring' as to the height of the waves, with Mike informing me that they were 1-2 metres only. Mike did admit finally that some were now close to 3 metres, and perhaps the earlier ones were higher than he'd thought. Fortunately though, as the light faded the wind dropped and the conditions eased.

Kirrikie was handling the conditions well, we were safe, and that was the main thing. We worked out what shifts would work for us - no, you can't stop and anchor for the night - with me doing 10pm to 2am, and Mike doing 2am to 6am, and swapping again. We would try to get some short sleep each before then, and again throughout the day.

The first night, from my perspective, did not go well.  Mike had reefed both sails, secured the boom to prevent an accidental gybe, and the genoa was set to portside. Despite managing to travel 6-7knots the wind was fickle; everytime the boat rocked with the swell, the genoa would lose a bit of air, deflate a little, fill up and so on, causing the lines to slacken and tighten with an oomph smacking noise. Drove me insane. But it was lovely being out on the water, with the moon up, checking around for other marine traffic or shipping containers every 10 minutes or so, listening to a podcast and knowing we were on our way way, however slowly with the reducing wind strength. 

I was just starting to yawn when Mike relieved me, having slept fitfully during my shift. Him, I mean. Aahhh I said as I lay down in the rocking rear portside berth. 4 hours sleep  to come. And Bang Bang, the oomph smack noise was now a banging sound inside the boat. I gritted my teeth and tried to sleep. I was just about there, when Mike came in and told me the batteries needed for the navigation equipment might need topping up and he was going to motor for a couple of hours. Turn on the engine. Right next to my head. I think I said something rude. 

I relocated to the half size saloon table seat and rolled around on that for 1 1/2 hours. The engine went off, and I finally crawled back into the berth. And then Mike told me the wind had dropped off so much the engine had to go back on. I was so exhausted I muttered something appropriate and actually went to sleep.

Up I bounded 2 hours later in a zesty mood at 6am! Not. But I did report for duty satisfied we had made it through our first night in one piece, no murder had been committed, and ready to appreciate the lovely day to come.

We now encountered very light winds for the rest of the trip, requiring much Jibeing (like a tack but wind behind you) backwards and forth. But the swell had lessened to a more comfortable pattern and we could play with different sail settings. Much to our delight we raised our spinnaker, perfect for the light winds we were experiencing and gradually closed the gap between us and Karpaz Gate Marina. 

Interrupting our serenity was the Pan Pan call put out periodically by the Cypriot Coast Guard over the VHF radio. Sometime during our first night there had been a collision between 2 vessels, and a man was lost overboard. During that day and the next, we could hear the coast guard contacting "all vessels" in the area, asking them to keep a lookout. We were outside the nominated search area for most of the trip,  but as we approached Cyprus, we crossed the northern extent of the search area. As the Pan Pan calls were ongoing, we increased our lookout but nothing was sighted except for a plastic drum on Mike's watch. (Pan Pan is one level down from Mayday Mayday; Pan Pan is urgent but not life-threatening, Mayday is for life-threatening situations).

We had travelled about two thirds of the way when our second night approached. It had taken us longer due to the zig-zag path we had had to adopt to chase the wind, refusing to motor. Our second night was a vastly different experience. We had furled our mainsail, allowing the genoa (headsail) to catch as much breeze as possible, it was easier for me to adjust and tack as required while Mike was off-shift. The sun set behind us, the full moon continued hung like a beacon in the sky, the slight breeze was warm, the motion of the ocean was comfortable.... perfection. 

Our second day was beautiful. We continued our attempts to travel by sail alone. We stopped briefly for a swim in 2000 feet of water with nothing around us at all. Apart from the black shape swimming towards me just as a I got in, with Mike yelling .... it was a black plastic bag, but definitely an uncomfortable way to check your heart is working.

Finally, after may hours of watching the coastline of Cyprus get closer and then further as we gybed and gybed again, we capitulated and put away the sails and turned the motor on. Just in time, as the marina staff contacted us -  when were we arriving? the customs staff were due to go home as it was a Saturday. With a sense of achievement we lowered the Turkish flag and raised the new flag of TRNC. Not long later we turned Kirrikie left, behind the marina wall and our adventure was over.

But what an arrival. Three or four staff were waiting, shouting  "Welcome welcome" as we got closer, guiding us to the customs dock. Incredibly friendly and solicitous, guiding us through the check-in and legalities in the hot sun, before we untied and moved to Kirrikie's winter berth. The Manager then greeted us and oversaw the marinaros while adjusting the dockside cleats, moving a boat next to us to improve the gap between the two hulls, checking everything was ok before finally clocking off for the day. 

As for us, it all felt a bit unreal in a good way. We said hi to our pontoon neighbours, the lovely Tina and Dave, ex-Finikians who new the marina well, and who quickly told us when happy hour was. Excellent.

After tidying up we went to check out the facilities. As we discovered these facilities included several blissful things, and I'm not sure what was best - the washing and drying machines, the indoor coolwater lap pool, the beach club and outdoor pool, or the 3 hour happy hour, every night with a great restaurant about 100 metres from our boat. So after tidying up Kirrikie we cooled off in the indoor pool and headed off to happy 'hour'. What a fantastic way to arrive in another country. 

We had another 4 days at Karpaz Gate preparing the boat so it would be safe and hopefully cockroach free while we are absent,  before flying to Istanbul for 2 nights, then it was off back home to hug our family. And start rocking a baby. But first, I watched Kanoa being born.... amazing. Waaay better than a Supermoon... 💖

*North Cyprus is actually the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, or TRNC.  The history is somewhat contentious:  inhabited by both Greeks and Turks, in 1974 Greece attempted to annexe the island. Turkey appealed to the international community for help, without effect, so they decided to invade. This resulted in the eviction of Greek Cypriots from the north, and with Turkish Cypriots fleeing from the south, and the island became divided. A neutral buffer zone controlled by the United Nations still separates the island. In 1983 the north declared its independence, but as it is not recognised by any other nation it relies heavily on Turkey for economic and military support. Crossing the border can be be complicated if you are not a Cypriot national. Point in case, a Turkish Cypriot can cross and return without problem, but a Turkish resident cannot. From our perspective, it may be a safe haven but it's also a no-man's land - we cannot sail on from TRNC without checking back into Turkey first, and we definitely cannot go into Greek waters from TRNC - as far as they are concerned we will have been in occupied territory.

The City of Troy - Fact and Fiction, Love, War and Tragedy.

The Fabulous Four visited Troy together in June, on the same trip that took us to Gallipoli. So that's a while ago. Athough we were at first reluctant to visit Troy - what a bunch of old makarky we/I thought - it turned out to be  a fascinating place. As we visited way back in May, I give you my account of some of the parts that I find intriguing, but it's certainly not a comprehensive account - you'd need a book the size of a trojan horse to cover that, 

We all know about the myth of the Trojan horse, beware Greeks bringing gifts and all that.  According to legends, notably The Iliad by Homer and Virgil's Aeneid, Helen, a very beautiful woman was married to the Greek King Menelaus of Sparta.  Over the sea, the goddess Aphrodite stirred up trouble and encouraged Paris, a prince and son of King Priam of Troy, to visit Sparta, and while he was there abduct to Helen, which he did and took her back to Troy. 

As an aside and there will be a few, as legends and history are retold by men, Helen is depicted as a floozy who betrayed her husband and ran away with Paris. Maybe Helen was not complicit but having been taken away, she could hardly catch a Pegusus Arline flight back, could she? After the war she reunited with Menelaus and they sailed away together. 

Anyway, Menelaus's brother was Agamemnon, the King of Mycenae and a throughly nasty warlike man. Menelaus sought his brother's help and Agamemnon was incensed, rallied the heros and soldiers from far and wide, and sailed away to start a war which lasted 10 years, as Troy was impregnable, and the troops were beset with disease and tragedy.

Aside number 2 - while waiting for favourable winds, Agamemnon sacrificed his own daughter, Iphigenia, to gain the attention of Artemis, goddess of the hunt. It worked and off he sailed. However, this thoroughly irked his wife, Clytemnestra. She started an affair with his cousin, Aegisthus, and she waited 10 years ... when Agememnon returned a hero (supposedly) after the war, with new mistress Cassandra, an abducted Trojan princess, Clytemnestra trapped him in a bath and killed him with an axe.

Good for her.

The killing of Agamemnon depicted on a mixing bowl, 460BC.

So, the war took years, and featured a few well known characters such as - Achilles of the heel, (killed by an arrow from Paris's bow), Odysseus, Ajax the Greater, and Ajax the Lesser (?!), Paris, his older brother Hector who was the Trojans' greatest fighter but was killed in a duel with Achilles after killing Achilles'  lover Patroclus,  Priam, Aeneas - more on him later. Confused yet?

So after 10 years, the Greeks decided to give up, as they hadn't found a way past the city walls. Unless..... ok, so they built a wooden horse, hid a few soliders inside, and seemingly sailed away. This was made to look like a homage to the Greek goddess,  I'm now confused who - but the Trojans, celebrating their victory, said stuff that, let's take the horse, bring it inside so we can use it to honour our god.  And we all know how that turned out.  A city that was thousands of years old destroyed and a complete civilisation slaughtered and dispersed. 

So what about the city. Surely the city of Troy was just a setting, a mythological place? For hundreds of years this was thought to be the case but the city has been referred to over the ages many times, under various names - Wilusa, Troia, Troja, Ilion and Ilium to name a few. It kept cropping up, with descriptions of where it might be in relation to to other landmarks or towns.

 It wasn't until 1860 that Englishman and amateur archeologist Charles McLaren began work on a mound called Hislarlik, about 5 kilometres from the southern entrance to the Dardenelles.  Although now silted up and is farmland as far as the eye can see, the area was once right next to the Agean sea. Other features of the area also matched the historical information about Troy. He eventually enrolled the help of a German with a similar interest, who had the money needed for this project, and as it turned out, a serious lack of morals: Mr Heinrich Schleimann, a complete scoundrel. Schleimann took credit for the all works and subsequent discoveries, which were revealed over 9 separate archeological digs between 1870 and 1890. 

This was once a view over the sea, now farmland. The Cannakkale Strait/Dardenells in the distance. Farmers still are encouraged to hand on any artefacts they might find on their land...

Staying in the shade!

All in all, over time there have been 24 excavations, revealing 9 different levels, referred to as Troy 1, Troy 2 up to Troy 9, with Troy 1 being the oldest level. When each settlement was destroyed, by fire or earthquake, the population started again, building on top of the previous settlement, often reusing the materials available. There is evidence of habitation going back 8000 years. There is suggestion that recent digs have revealed artefacts going back 11,000 years. UNESCO now considers Troy as one of the most important archeological sites in the world.

A quote from the UNESCO World Heritage website:

 "Throughout the centuries, Troy has acted as a cultural bridge between the Troas region and the Balkans, Anatolia, the Aegean and Black Sea regions through migration, occupation, trade and the transmission of knowledge.

24 excavation campaigns, spread over the past 140 years, have revealed many features from all the periods of occupation in the citadel and the lower town. These include 23 sections of the defensive walls around the citadel, eleven gates, a paved stone ramp, and the lower portions of five defensive bastions. Those archaeological remains date for the most part from Troy II and VI; however, a section of the earliest wall (Troy I) survives near the south gate of the first defences. In the last 15 years, it has become clear that a Lower City existed south of the mound in all prehistoric periods and extended to about 30 ha in the Late Bronze Age. Several monuments, including the temple of Athena and the recently excavated sanctuary, are part of the Greek and Roman city of Ilion, at the site of Troy. The Roman urban organization is reflected by two major public buildings on the edge of the agora (central market place), the odeion (concert hall) and the nearby bouleuterion (council house).

The surrounding landscape contains many important archaeological and historical sites, including prehistoric settlements and cemeteries, Hellenistic burial mounds, monumental tumuli, Greek and Roman settlements, Roman and Ottoman bridges and numerous monuments of the Battle of Gallipoli."

Main entrance/ramp from Roman times

Covers over a very early section of Troy, protecting mudbrick walls.

Walls of Troy. A wooden horse with soldiers inside would NOT fit in here

Two eras of wall construction, the left side demonstrates the evolution of stonemasonary over the centuries

For a professional, detailed explanation of the rise and fall and rise and fall of Troy through the ages, please click on this link. 

Troy - information from Britannica

As for Schleimann, his sins were many. Apart from taking all the credit, in 1873 he announced he had found a stash of gold and jewellery, and claimed it was from era of the fall of Troy, and called it Priam's Treasure. Before embarking on his excavations of the area, Schleimann signed an agreement with the Turkish authorities which stated he had to declare anything he found of value or significance, and these were to be retained by Turkey. Schleimann publicly greatly underestimated the real quantity and quality of Priams's Treasure, and later told how his wife hid the artefacts in her clothing and smuggled them out past the on-site overseers charged with protecting Turkey's cultural history. 

Priam's Treasure before it was broken up

Later, the collection was held in German musuems; most of this was subsequently appropriated by Russian troops at the end of WW2 and taken to Moscow, and it is kept in the Pushkin Museum. Turkey has made requests to Russia to return the collection, but the reply is no - the collection was taken from the Germans as compensation for the suffering of WW2 inflicted by the Nazis. Seriously.  Very little of Turkish anitiquities lie in the museums of Turkey.

Some of the collection on display in Russia

Schleimann also destroyed several parts of the site in his quest for gold - he was indeed, very fortunate to have found the treasure at all, given the size of the site. He broke up and  dumped 'soil' which was actually fortifications from the very early times, onto other areas, and the damage is irreparable. Oh, and Priam's Treasure, pre-dates the Homeric Troy, as it is referred, by several hundred years.

Aside - what about Aeneas? Legend has it he survived the Fall of Troy, and eventually ended up in Latinus, an area associated with Ancient Rome. Aeneas has his own myths and legends, including that his descendants included Romulus and Remus, the founders of the Roman civilisation. Pause for thought....

As for the Romans, who were yet another civilisation who called Troia/Ilium home. Troy was considered very important to Roman history, and was visited by Alexander the Great, and Emperors Hadrian and Augustus. Ah, Augustus... he was also known as Caracalla, one of the most bloody thirsty roman emperors of all time. Obsessed wih many things, he built the threatre which can be seen on the site. He was also fascinated by the love Achilles had for Patroclus, impressed by the depth of Achilles' grief when Hector killed Patroclus, which changed the direction of the war. So, wishing to emulate this, he had his own lover killed so he could see what it felt like. A little bit exreme me thinks.

Caracalla's contribution, the theatre

But back to the whole horse thing. Archeological work has shown that the gates to Troy would have been too narrow for a wooden horse as described in The Iliad. The legend also doesn't account for the physical impossibility of a bunch of smelly, weary soliders staying quiet inside a rickety horse, then sneaking out to open the gates to allow their comrades in, who were actually hiding in their boats behind an island approximately 3-4 hours sail away...

There are theories that an earthquake occurred at the end of the 10 year war, weakening the walls, also precipating tidal waves or a tsunami, allowing the Greeks to enter and overcome the city. Certainly earthquakes were responsible for destruction of the city previously. According to Greek mythology, Poseidon is the god of the sea, earthquakes ... and horses. In the evolution of the story, horses became more than a symbol of Poseidon's assistance in the defeat of the Trojans, and hence the creation of the legend of the Trojan horse. 

The God Poseidon

Istanbul Part 2 - Waterworks and The Harem

I sit here contemplating the time that it has taken to get back to this blog. It is beyond my comprehension how youtubers get episodes out at regular intervals; but you know, I'm retired now and not on a schedule. A schedule is the boaties' worst enemy, that's my excuse anyway...

One thing we all (The Fabulous Four - Lloyd, Karen, Mike and I) wanted to see, was the Basilica Cisterns. A little bit of research revealed the best way to see these and dodge queueing in the heat, was to book a skip-the-line-tour for a 9am start. The beauty of this was after gliding happily past the already growing queue, the pretty tour guide took us through, chatted for about 20 minutes, putting up with stupid questions* and then we were free to wander around the cisterns for as long as we wanted. It was relatively uncrowded, cool, and worth the visit - perfect!

*Mike's interest in the Basilica Cisterns was movie related.  The cisterns featured briefly in the 1963 James Bond classic 'From Russia with Love'.  James Bond meets with his Turkish counterpart, and together they punt through the waters of the underground cisterns, making their way to a periscope which allows them to observe the nefarious dealings within the Soviet Embassy.  Of course, this meant that Mike just had to ask the young early 20-something tour guide which way to the persicope.  He had to explain....  She was very sweet while she gritted her teeth and said she was unaware of that movie. She did however, mention the 2016 Tom Hanks movie Inferno... and then I realised That's Where I've seen the cisterns!  Bloody hell, I'm as bad as Mike. At least my movie was filmed in colour.  (I will say though, that it is worth seeing the 1963 film, as it shows an Istanbul that almost doesn't exist anymore....).

A brief history lesson - one of several cisterns, the Basilica Cisterns were created in 532 by Byzantine Emperor Justinian, he of Hagia Sofia fame, as a way to store water for the population of Istanbul, as there was very little fresh water in the area. The Basilica Cisterns are called that as they ran under a basilica, which no longer exist. They could hold 100,000 tons of water. To create such a strong storage facility there are 336 columns in 12 rows of 28  9m high columns. The cisterns were built quite quickly using recycled materials... thus many of the columns look different, as they have been taken from ancient temples and old sites around Turkey.

3 Columns are of particular interest: one is referred to as the Column of Tears, or Weeping Column, as it is the only one that always stays wet. It is also decorated with tear-shaped patterns down the it's length...  it is also thought to represent the tears of the 7000 slaves who built the cisterns.

The other 2, the Gorgon columns, each feature a head of Medusa.  Famously, the heads have been placed at the bottom of the column, one upside down and one on its side. The theory is that by placing them this way, the builders avoided the problem of being turned into stone by looking directly into Medusa's eyes. Personally, I would have left those heads right out of the whole thing, but luckily they weren't, as they look fantastic.

Don't worry, she can't hurt you..... I hope

The quality of the water was constantly monitored, partly because these cisterns provided water to the Royal Family. Fish were the aqua-version of canaries in the coal mine - if the fish that were living there were healthy, so was the water. The cisterns ceased to be used once the Ottomans arrived. The Quran states that only running water can be drunk, and therefore the still water stored in the cisterns was not acceptable. Instead, fountains were built around the city and the water that used to feed the cisterns was re-directed to these fountains. However, there is still water at the bottom of the cisterns; our guide explained that no-one is really sure where it comes from (as it dripped on us) and it is pumped out occasionally.

Restoration of the cisterns commenced in the 1980s, and again in 2017. The latter saw the introduction of clearer walkways, lights and artworks throughout the chamber, making it a visual feast.  I hope you enjoy this video which I hope does it justice.

The Imperial Harem

After Karen and Lloyd departed, we had a few hours up our sleeve. I wished to see the Topkapi Palace, but Mike was not in the mood to walk around another ancient building (!). So I compromised - Jess and I visited the palace in 2010, but not The Harem which is part of the complex ( it was hot, and she'd had enough... I'm sensing a theme here). So we confined ourselves to The Harem, splitting up early so I could dawdle in peace and Mike could head to the nearest cafe for a coffee, or anything that allowed him to sit and relax.

The Harem entrance with the Topkapi Palace

Ceiling of the rooms for the Queen Mum

And I did take a while....   The harem wasn't the den of iniquity we westerners like to believe. Harem means 'sacred and inviolable space', and was the private apartments of 400 rooms  housing the sultan and his family, including the all important Queen Mother, royal princes, thousands of women (concubines and consorts), the black eunuchs (slaves captured the Nile region, and responsible for the female population of the harem),  the white eunuchs (reponsible for palace bureacracy).

Recreation of the Black Enuchs

The Courtyard of the  Zuluflu Baltacilar, soldiers who supported the harem by doing all the hard (heavy) work

The Eunuch's dormitory and living areas

Detai from the Courtyard of the Black Eunuchs

Leaving the Eunuch's quarters and heading to the royal aprtments

Two of the most important people in the Harem were the Chief Black Eunuch and The Queen Mother. The Chief Eunuch was as important as a prime minister; The Queen Mother, or Valide Saltan, was the mother of the son who ascended the throne, and she ruled The Harem. She was a very powerful woman while her son was Sultan, and even more so when the Sultan was still a boy, as often happened in the 17th century, effectively ruling the empire.

The Imperial (Throne) Room

The Imperial Harem was contructed in the 16th century, and was the home and centre of power for over 30 Sultans over 400 years. It included its own mosque, school, hospital, baths and kitchens. It is sumptuoulsy decorated in tiles, with beautifully carved doors, lavish furnishings and decor and is a fascinating place.

Courtyard of the Favourites

One of many, many beautiful doors

Detail from the Sultan's Room

The Sultans bathroom... part of it...

I could be wrong... but sections of the rooms of the Valide Sultan, the most beautiful part of the Harem

The Harem Mosque, place of worship for the women, carpet now covering where intricate tiles once decorated the floor

The Golden Road, the path women chosen by the Sultan, or mor likely the Valide Sultan, would take to his rooms.

I wandered and explored sunny courtyards, stone hallways, and many private chambers with lattice windows throwing patterns on the cool floors, that whispered of times gone by.  However, after a while and despite the stunningly beautiful tiles and designs,  I started to to feel just a little claustrophobic, grateful that I didn't need the permission of the Valide Sultan to leave The Harem. So I made my escape and appreciated the beauiful gardens outside, before finding Mike with his coffee in the modern world again.