Echoes of Byzantium – Agia Sophia and More Greek Connections – A Special Dedication Part 1

This post and our last day in Istanbul are dedicated to my amazing Aunt Janet, an incredible lady who inspired this very unique trip. Some time last year, Janet phoned me to say that a place that had been on her bucket list for many years was ‘Constantinople’ and she couldn’t think of anyone better to accompany her there than me! I was truly flattered, and nothing would have pleased me more than to make this wish happen for her. I will add that Janet is 96 years old and lives in South Africa, so there were a fair number of logistics to consider, plus I had never been to Istanbul, so I had very little knowledge of the city and what to expect. I did know, however, from watching many travel shows that Istanbul is built on seven hills, so it may not be a particularly easy city to traverse.

Janet used to work for the British High Commission in South Africa and was honoured with an MBE for her services. Her boss, a senior diplomat, had at some point, been transferred to Istanbul and wrote Janet several letters about the city, whetting her appetite to visit. However, I suspect he painted a very different picture of Istanbul from the one we see today.

Working in travel, my priority is to always ensure that my clients are safe and knowledge of the destination is imperative. I thought that before any concrete plans were made for Janet to travel, especially from SA, it would be well worth doing a recce to get a grasp of the lay of the land. Using Istanbul as a starting point, the idea was to weave a journey that included Istanbul’s top sights along with my passion for Greece, and so it was all left to tumble around in my brain until it made some sense.

This was our last day in Istanbul, and we had saved the best for last – a visit to Agia Sofia. Whenever I imagined what Istanbul would be like, Agia Sofia was always front and foremost of my mind. Even since arriving in the city, her magnificent dome had been almost within touching distance from the roof terrace of our hotel and it was impossible not to pass her at some point every day. She was an imposing presence right from the beginning of our arrival in Sultanahmet.

If I could only visit one place in Istanbul on this first trip, without a doubt, it would be Agia Sophia. My interest isn’t driven by any religious compulsion as I’m as atheistic as they come (perhaps a little agnostic the older I get!). However, for some reason, I’ve always felt a bit of sorrow about the forced conversion from Christianity to Islam of what was once the world’s largest church. Why I should feel this way, I’m not quite sure, as empires across the globe have been doing the same since time immemorial. Such is the complexity of history, religion, politics etc.

First, the practicalities of the tickets. On the side adjacent to the entrance to the Topkapi Palace was the ticket booth where we purchased a combined ticket for entry into Agia Sofia and also the Agia Sofia Museum. 2400 (about £43) per person. The wait in the queue was around 20 minutes as another cruise liner had arrived, bringing with it large tour groups. With tickets in our hot little hands, we were funnelled through a security point where you would ideally begin to cover shoulders and legs etc and then we were in.

Looking at Agia Sofia from the Sultanahmet Square side, it is most definitely constructed in the style of a cathedral but layered with centuries of architectural additions. You’d expect to enter through a set of grand imperial doors but entry for visitors is not like this. Visitors’ tickets were for the gallery only, and entry was through a stone passageway with vaulted ceilings. Peter muttered that he definitely could have got into the ground floor at prayer time. He thinks he’s nationality and religion-fluid when travelling! But let’s not go there! Once up the gently inclining ramps, we entered the wide gallery, which was impressive in itself.

Stepping towards the balcony rail, it was difficult to know where to look first as the place was vast! The expansive golden-lit dome supported by four great arches soared above, seemingly floating in space. A row of 40 arched windows along the base of the dome and larger ones on the walls flooded the space with light. As beautifully atmospheric as this was, it does not for a good phone photo make, but this post was never going to do this magnificent place justice anyway!

Tall marble columns line the space, each one slightly different in colour and veining. The polished surfaces have been worn smooth over time, and the tops were carved with intricate patterns of leaves and knots. Giant round medallions with Arabic calligraphy hung on the walls, their black and gold script standing out against the pale stone.

Moving around the gallery, we were offered different vantage points at which to view the incredible mosaics and paintings. Above the Minbar and in the great apse, images of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ child were partially veiled by curtains, but we would have to wait to see them up close. On the other side of the balcony from where we’d entered, we were now able to see paintings of the four angels, representations of seraphim, the highest rank of angels in Christian tradition, whose role is to support and surround the throne of God.

Originally, they were all shown with faces, but during the Ottoman period, the faces were covered over with gilt stars or medallions in line with Islamic practice. During the 19th-century restoration, one of those coverings was removed, so today you can see the face of one angel (albeit faded), while the others remain hidden.

We passed through the Marble Door, also known as the Emperor’s Door, a 6th-century construction that once separated the emperor’s private chambers from the meeting rooms of the synod. Beyond it, we finally came to a closer view of the partially veiled mosaic of Mary holding the Christ Child. This 9th-century mosaic was the first major mosaic after the end of Iconoclasm.

There was something deeply moving about the image—half hidden yet still unmistakably present. Despite all the changes and trials Agia Sophia has endured, she remains, enduring, much like the small but steadfast community of ethnic Greeks who continue to live in Istanbul today.

Next, we moved through to the upper south gallery, the place where the imperial family once worshipped, and here we found some of the most remarkable mosaics. The 11th century Zoe Mosaic shows a depiction of Christ enthroned with Empress Zoe and her consort offering gifts. The emperor figure was altered at least twice to reflect her successive husbands!

The Deesis Mosaic, dated from around the 1260,s shows Christ Pantocrator in the centre, the Virgin Mary on his left, and John the Baptist on his right, all pleading for mercy on humanity. This is perhaps the most famous surviving Hagia Sophia mosaic, deeply human and expressive.

The Kommenos Mosaic circa 1122 is of the Virgin and Child with Emperor John II Komnenos and Empress Irene presenting gifts, alongside their son Alexios.

Close to the mosaics is the tombstone of Henricus Dandolo, the Doge of Venice who died in Istanbul during the Fourth Crusade in 1204.

As we exited down a stone staircase, a deep arched window gave us a view into a small courtyard housing relics that include a stone sarcophagus and a collection of large pithoi, Byzantine storage jars. Their rounded beehive-shaped tops allowed them to be partly buried for cool storage.

Down on the ground floor, set inside a narrow hall with exquisite relief plasterwork and painting, was another spectacular 10th-century mosaic. On the right is a depiction of Emperor Constantine, the creator of Constantinople/Istanbul, holding a model of the city. On the left is Emperor Justinian, the one responsible for constructing the version of Agia Sofia that we see today, also holding a model of the city. Both models are being offered to the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus.

The second part of our ticket gave us entry to the Agia Sofia Museum. I wasn’t sure what to expect and almost convinced Peter that we ditched it and cracked on with out action-packed itinerary. But I’m glad I didn’t. When we arrived, there was a small queue that didn’t seem to be moving. We then realised that small groups of around a dozen people were being let in at a time. Unbeknownst to us, some of the queue was made up of a group and luckily for us we were fast-tracked into the next group to enter. At the desk, we were provided with digital audio guide with headphones and then guided to an elevator that took us up several floors, where the experience began. We were guided through a series of rooms which each had a digital display outlining the history of Agia Sofia. That really under-sells it because it was a massive production straight out of Hollywood with powerful images accompanied by a soundtrack of equal impact giving a fully immersive experience. Everything that I’d read about the history of Agia Sofia was brought to life before my eyes – I’m a visual learner, so this worked very well for me.

At the end of the ‘tour’ we were released into the museum on the lower floors which we could explore at our own pace. Highly recommended. Just for a bit of context here is a timeline of the history of Agia Sofia. The fact that the Great Schism of 1054 saw the split between the Eastern Orthodox and Roman Catholic Churches particularly resonated with Peter who has a complicated family history with both religions.

Before we leave Sultanahmet to head over the Golden Horn to discover more of the European side of Istanbul, we took a stroll along what was the Hippodrome – right outside the Agia Sofia Museum. There are barely any remnants of the hippodrome but it now serves as a large square linking several monuments of note and a lively meeting place.

It’s hard to imagine that this was the very spot used to house up to 100,000 spectators who’d come to watch chariot races and imperial ceremonies. It was the beating heart of the city for over a thousand years. Although the Hippodrome itself has long since disappeared, three remarkable monuments remain now silent witnesses to a time when emperors and crowds gathered here in passion, rivalry, and celebration.

The first monument is the Obelisk of Theodosius, a 3,500-year-old structure originally erected in Ancient Egypt by Pharaoh Thutmose III. Carved from red granite, it once stood at the Temple of Karnak before being brought to Constantinople in 390 AD by Emperor Theodosius I. The Roman marble base on which it sits has detailed carvings depicting Theodosius and his court watching the races – propaganda at its best.

A short walk from the obelisk brings you to the Serpent Column, one of the oldest artefacts in the city. This bronze monument was cast in Delphi, Greece, to celebrate the Greek victory over the Persians at the Battle of Plataea (479 BC). Originally, it consisted of three intertwined snakes with heads rising upward. Though the heads were lost over the centuries (a fragment survives in the Istanbul Archaeological Museum), the column still coils upward, a relic of both Ancient Greece and Byzantine Constantinople. (If you’ve been to Delphi, you may have seen the modern replica of the Serpent Column!)

The original Serpent Column was cast in 479 BC from the melted-down weapons of the defeated Persians after the Battle of Plataea. It once stood proudly in front of the Temple of Apollo, inscribed with the names of the 31 Greek city-states that united for victory. In the 4th century AD, Emperor Constantine the Great had the column transported to his new capital, Constantinople, to decorate the Hippodrome. Here it still stands today, in Istanbul’s Sultanahmet Square — weathered, missing its serpent heads, but still an authentic 2,500-year-old artefact.

At the southern end of the Hippodrome stands the Walled Obelisk, less glamorous than its counterparts but no less fascinating. Built in the 10th century by Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus, this Byzantine monument was once sheathed in gilded bronze plates with Greek inscriptions. The plates were stripped off and melted down during the Fourth Crusade (1204), when Latin crusaders sacked the city — one of the deepest wounds in Greek-Byzantine history. All that’s left is the rough stone structure we see today. Even so, it has stood for more than a millennium, a weathered monument marking the end of the Hippodrome’s racing track.

Part one complete – now we’re going to jump on the T1 and head over towards Taksim Square!