We broke out and went for a short excursion despite the weekend lockdown. It was the first day of any sun at all, so our resolve to stand in solidarity with the Turkish fizzled away. When we stepped outside, well, it was a rather crowded lockdown on the streets as there were dozens of people wandering around, certainly not all foreigners. We went over the Golden Horn and while it was less crowded, it certainly wasn’t empty and a rather odd collection of ‘essential shops’ was open, ranging from baklava stores to hookah shops. There were even restaurants open, with people dining, though none of them were at all tempting since they were almost all tourist traps.
We went into the Beyazit mosque which had previously escaped our notice. Another beautiful mosque, this one set in wide space, another former Byzantine forum. As we went in, in one corner outside there was a little man in a suit facing the corner and it took me a moment to realise he was calling the azaan. I still assume that muezzins are in minarets but of course they are not, and often there isn’t even a proper muezzin.
We strolled through shuttered streets and without shops and people it was possible to see the pretty buildings and rotting wrought iron grills behind the jumble of signboards.
We arrived at the hippodrome, where there were far fewer people than I’d seen there before, so we took the opportunity to look closely at all the columns and obelisks. I would have liked to have seen the snake pillar back in the day, when the snake heads were still in place, balancing a golden tripod.
There was also, for the first time, no queue outside the Hagia Sophia, and after some hesitation, we went in, and I am very glad we did. There were plenty of people inside, but it was a bit like being in a park as people were sitting around, some were praying, some chatting. The mosaics were not covered up, and all the rather repellently triumphalist signs had been removed. Because it was getting dark outside the lights were on, and the interior glowed like bronze above, and even the hideous carpet looked rich, like verdigris velvet. I suppose our last visit was quite soon after it had been converted to a mosque, and I think it was a Friday, so the mood today was completely different. Last time there had been little feeling of devotion, only of a hard triumph. But now, it was either quiet prayer or awe and wonder at the beauty of the space. And this time I could appreciate the beauty as well, I wasn’t disappointed by it as I had been on my first visit.