We woke up again properly at the civilised time of 8am and went down for breakfast where a small cold buffet was laid out. The choice was fairly limited but in their defence the produce was all fresh and tasty, even the coffee was good. Let's just say we were pleasantly surprised. We could hardly find fault.

Back in the room was a different matter when Julie found another failing. The basin didn't have a plug so we couldn't fill it up with water. We survived though.

We left the hotel after several costume changes for Julie, she just couldn't decide what to wear today. She appeared a little apprehensive because she wanted to dress respectfully for our visit to the Blue Mosque this morning.

So, just before 10am, we arrived at the Hippodrome where overnight a finish line for the 32nd Eurasia Intercontinental Marathon had suddenly appeared.

We found ourselves in what felt like a field hospital walking past a row of Khaki tents where inside athletes were having their post-race rub down.

The Kenyan winner of the 15km race had already completed it in under 49 minutes by the time we arrived. It made us feel quite inadequate, we were struggling putting one foot in front of another. We hadn't even woken up properly yet.

"Are we supposed to be here?" asked Julie when she noticed that there weren't many "normal" people around. She was right. It felt as if we had found our way back stage as we mingled with the athletes and race stewards.

We stood for a while at the finish line and watched the stragglers. It was interesting to watch how despite being almost last they still reached for their stop watch to see if they had beaten their personal best. I guess if you're not likely to beat a Kenyan then at least you can beat yourself so to speak.

Moving on we stepped up to the entrance of the Blue Mosque from the Hippodrome side only to find that it was the exit. Small signs with easy to follow arrows lead us along the perimeter wall and around to the Sultan Ahmet park side where we found the proper entrance.

More arrows lead us in to a large courtyard where in the centre stood the ornate Ablutions Fountain. Here the faithful would ritually wash their feet before entering the Mosque. It's no longer used as such today.

We tried to take it all in but the sheer scale of the structure was so huge, truly magnificent.

When it was completed in 1616 the oversized mosque and especially its six minarets was quite controversial at the time as many thought it was an vain attempt to rival the architect of Mecca.

It was certainly a thing of spleandour as the domes and semi domes cascaded down to the courtyard below.

The Blue Mosque is also more correctly known as the Sultan Ahmet Mosque after the 14th Ottoman Sultan who comissioned it. His story is quite tragic as he died of typhus only a year after the mosque was completed at the young age of 27.

It didn't look very blue from the outside but the blueness that gave the mosque its nickname was from the colourful Iznik tiles inside, which was where we were going next.

We continued to follow the arrows, the sign said "visitors" and left the courtyard on the opposite side to which we entered. We found ourselves at the back of a small queue as we waited our turn to take off our shoes and place them in a small plastic bag to carry them inside.

Stepping inside our jaws dropped at the beauty of the interior, open-mouthed looking up to the heavens we shuffled our way further in. There was a bit of a bottleneck as we entered because everyone reacted in the same way cricking our necks upwards and coming to a standstill as we stared in amazement.

No photo could capture both the phenomenal scale and intricate detail. It was absolutely spectacular. We walked towards the centre to get the best perspective.

Above us a thousand glass lampshades hung from large concentric chandeliers dropped from the ceiling to illuminate the prayer area. They were unlit during our visit which made us want to return in the evening to see them shine like stars.

It was quite crowded and with half the floor area cordoned off it felt even busier. We stood at the barrier looking across the empty floor space towards the beautifully carved marble Mirhab pointing the way towards Mecca. 

To it's right was a tall minbar or pulpit from which the Imam would deliver the sermon.

I would have really liked to have experienced the mosque during prayer time. I'm sure the ceremony would be something special.

We walked up to the walls behind us to take a closer look at the remarkable tile work.

Painted predominantly but not exclusively painted blue the delicate patterns on the ceramic wall tiles making them look like hanging carpets. We gasped at the acheivement of completing the whole mesmerising interior.

They were called Iznik tiles because they were made in the artisan city of Iznik (just south of Istanbul) famous for its pottery.

We slowly made our way to the exit having seen all there was to see. I don't think we spent much more than fifteen minutes inside.

After wobbling about trying to put our shoes back on without sitting on the mosque's steps (only because we weren't allowed, although not everyone adhered to the rule) we walked across the Sultan Ahmet park.

It was a lovely sunny day and after the crowded Blue Mosque we took some time out to sit down on a bench to watch the Istanbul world go by.

There were a few street vendors one selling silk scarves another freshly squeezed pomegranite juice

In one corner of the park there was one of those "roasted chestnut and corn on the cob" cart and then above us all hovered a TV helicopter filming the marathon. It's always fascinating to observe every day life roll on.

Relaxed and ready for the next attraction we got up and walked the short distance to the entrance of Haigha Sophia. We paid our 20 lira each to enter but before going straight inside we sat down again.

Within the grounds there was a small cafe where we enjoyed a tasty coffee.

I also bought this collection of various dried fruits coated in different nuts. They were only small and came in a pack of four. I had all four pieces to myself because Julie doesn't like dried fruits, especially figs.

I absolutely adored them. I couldn't get enough of them especially the dried apricot covered with pistachio.

We were in a lovely shaded area amongst trees and large pieces of masonary. These carved slabs laid randomly on the ground were what remained of the 5th century church that pre-dated Haigha Sophia.

As we walked inside there was a feel of antiquity about Haghia Sophia. It was damp and musty with much of the decorative paint having flaked off. But it all added to the ancient aura.

What struck us the most was its spectacular vastness. I didn't realise that mankind was capable of building on such monumental scale at this time in our history.

Its name means the "church of the holy wisdom" and it was built in 537 after a fire had destroyed the previous church on this site. It was incredible to think that this staggering structure was built in the 6th century. Most of what we see today dates from that period.

We walked around in awe.

Almost a thousand years later it was converted into a mosque by the Ottomans and they added a few islamic motifs, minarets and the essential mirhab and minbar of course but not much else was changed. It is now just a museum and no longer used for any religious ceremonies.

We slowly covered the ground floor walking towards the nave.

Unfortunately the mirhab and minbar were hidden behind a screen and scaffolding but at least we could see the beautiful ornate loge, a screened platform from which the sultan would attend prayer.

Tradition has it that if your thumb becomes moist it will cure you of all your illnesses. We chose not to join the fun. We just thought it was a sure way of catching some dreaded lurgy not being cured of one.

We moved on up the ramp to the gallery where the view of the interior was phenomenal.

Standing at the balcony looking down on the little people below, then up to the mammoth dome above, you could truly appreciate the gigantic dimensions of Haigha Sophia.

The highlight though was undoubtedly the 10th century mosaics in the South Gallery.

We walked through a marble doorway known as the Gates of Heaven and Hell.

Through an arch and then on the right hand side was the Deesis mosaic. Much of the detail was missing but what was left was exquisite, especially the image of Christ in the centre.

The Christian son of God and Islamic prophet Jesus was flanked by the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist. In Islam iconography and other images are not used to decorate its mosques so these mosaics were fortunate to survive the conversion.

Luckily they were simply painted over.

The other mosaics in the south gallery were a little peculiar in that they were like vanity paintings of 12th century Byzantine rulers. There was the Virgin Mary & Baby Jesues posing alongside Emperor John II Comnenus and Empress Irene and another of Christ with Emperor Constantine IX Monomachus and Empress Zoe. "Oh yes, we're good friends you know!"

Returning back out through the Gates of Heaven and Hell we stopped for a while to gaze at the great view of the Blue Mosque out of the open window.

I spent a while longer trying to get a photo of the view through the window frame.

I eventually got one without anyone else in the shot only to go and delete it whilst editing today's photographs! I could have kicked myself when I realised what I had done. I felt such an idiot. Nevermind.

Our visit to Haigha Sophia was now complete and we made our way back down the ramp and back out onto the street. Turning left we strolled towards the entrance to the Topkapi Palace complex.

We came across a sign that said "Sinan Mausoleum - Free to Enter" so we did, entered freely.

The collection of four imperial mausoleums were still within the walls of the Haigha Sophia but only accesible through this side entrance from the street Babihumayun Cadessi.

Sinan, the most famous of Ottoman Architects, is not himself laid to rest here but was instead resonsible for building the mausoleum for Sultan Selim II. The others honour his son Sultan Murad III and his grandson Sultan Mehmet III.

We took them in order and the first on the left was that of Mehmet III. We removed our shoes and entered into a richly decorated room.It was decagonal in shape and completely covered with intircate and colourful painted tiles.

A paradise of symmetrical patterns and beautiful calligraphy was created.

It was all topped with a dome which had an interesting pattern decorating the round where a segment appeared to be in shade almost like a sun dial. It was quite an unique feature.

In the centre stood the sarcophagus of the Sultan shrouded in a green baize and crowned with a white turban. He was accompanied by several members of his family. Some were clearly only infants.

I assume those topped with the turbans would have been the crown princes and other male members of the family.

Next we entered the mausoleum of Selim II. It stood apart from the others with its magnificent portico signifying its importance.

We removed our footwear and entered an exceptional interior, a kaleidescope of colour.

It was smaller than the first mausoleum but that only seem to intensify the effect.

Fourty two sarcophagi lay inside, again covered in a green baize and some crowned by a white turban.

Not only were Sultan Selim II, his wife and his children laid here but also many children of Sultan Murad III who legend has it sired 102 offsprings!

Julie had seen enough green boxes in the middle of a colourful room for one day and stayed seated in the portico whilst I completed the full set.

The third mausoleum was that of Murad III and was less flamboyant than the others although the stained glass windows were the most attractive. Set in an extension to the third, the fourth and final mausoleum was known as the mausoleum of the Crown Princes.

Plain and simple and quite small it housed only 5 sarcophagi, four sons and one daughter of Murad III.

The pattern adorning the dome again had a segment that differed, only this time it was as if a section had been cut away to reveal a more detailed design beneath.

The effect continued beyond the circle, altering the pattern of the arch below.

As we left the mausoleums we paused for a while to look at the many photographs that we thought were all the work of Sinan.

Amongst the images were the bridge at Mostar and The Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem so we began to doubt our assumption.

Although the whole presentation did seem to suggest that these masterpieces of Islamic architecture were credited to him.

Back out onto Babihumayun Cadessi we rejoined out path towards the outer walls of the Topkapi Palace. It was a glorious sunny day and the streets were busy with tourists and locals alike strolling around.

We walked past the Fountain of Ahmet without as much as a second glance and entered through the imperial gate into the first courtyard of the palace grounds.

On the left, I have to admit, what caught our attention first was a cafe but behind there was an important Byzantine church Haigha Eirene.

We sat outside Cafe Kopakali and admired the view. The first courtyard of the Topkapi Palace was an attractive park with views across the Bosphorous. I read with interest about Haigha Eirene.

Built in the 6th century and even older then Haigha Sophia it was unusually never converted into a mosque. Instead it was used as an arsenal and left largely intact.

The original 4th century church of Haigha Eirene was the first church ever built here in Constantinople. In a repeat of what happened just down the road the original church was badly damage in the 6th century and had to be rebuilt.

Julie had a diet coke but I was little peckish so I had Baklava and Turkish coffee.

The coffee was served in a traditional brass pot. I remembered my bad experience with the "Bosnian" coffee whilst in Dubrovnik and poured it out slowly being careful not to tip the thick chewy sludge in the bottom into my cup!

It was very good coffee and very strong.

The baklava arrived and I was shocked to see four large pieces on my plate. As delicious as they were I struggled to finish the parcels of exceptional sweetness.

We walked towards the pretty Gate of Salutations which looked more Bavarian castle than Ottoman palace.

On the right by the fountain of the executioner where his bloodied sword was washed we found the ticket office. We bought our tickets paying 20 TYL each which said didn't include entry to the harem.

We entered the Second courtyard and walked along the right hand side past a display of royal carriages in the stable blocks.

Further along were the imperial kitchens with its series of small domes.

Somewhere inside was a collection of ceramics, glass and silverware but we didn't go in; mostly because we didn't find the entrance!

We must have walked straight past it totally pre-occupied by the row of carvings that lined the walls. I don't actually know what they were.

Some of them looked like tombstones and all looked quite striking.

We're not big fans of pottery so I don't think we missed much in the kitchens.

Other than the Harem on the opposite side of the manicured green park there wasn't much else in the second courtyard. So onwards we went towards the next flamboyant portal into the third courtyard.

The Gate of Felicity (or Bab-üs Saadet) was the entrance to the Sultan's private quarters. Nobody could enter without his permission. It had this enormous rectangle canopy which looked very much a modern design.

If you were fortunate enough to be granted a private audience with the Sultan he would have received you in the throne room positioned directly in front of you as you entered.

The private audience chamber was literally a reception room where the sultan would do his meeting and greeting before retiring to the harem to relax.

We had a look inside. Behind the thick glass we could see a feature brass fireplace and a lavish "day bed" on which the sultan would lounge. There weren't any other seating on display which we thought was odd.

We pictured oursleves arriving for an audience with the Sultan and breaking all the protocols by clambering onto the day bed to join him. I just couldn't imagine the British Ambassador and his wife doing that.

Up next were the Privy Chambers, originally built to house the offices of the Sultan's administration.

A section of it is now known as The Chamber of the Holy Mantle where the Sacred Trusts, some of the most holiest relics of Islam are housed.

No photography was allowed inside which was a shame. As difficult as it was to keep the camera down I respected their request. We joined the back of a long line of people as we filtered our way through several rooms. There was a reverant hush with the only sound that of someone reciting passages from the Koran.

In glass cabinets were many items that were collected by the Ottoman Sultans over the generations. It began with the conquest of Egypt by Sultan Selim who brought the sacred trusts back to Istanbul. I only wished I'd known more about what I was looking at, it would have been a more rewarding experience.

In one room we saw former keys and part of the guttering that once were part of the Kabba, the building in Mecca that houses the black stone, the most sacred place in Islam towards which all Muslims face to pray. We also saw a former casing of the black stone.

The collection also included the Prophet Muhammad’s mantle, standard, a piece of his tooth that broke and his seal. There were many swords of the Prophet’s companions, and several items of clothing.

We entered one room and the recital of the Koran over the speakers seemed to get louder. Julie tapped me on the shoulder and pointed. To the left of us was an Islamic scholar, a mufti, sat down reading from the holy book. I had assumed they were playing a recording but no, it was being broadcasted live from this small room.

Back outside we continued our tour of the palace and entered the fourth courtyard. Not through a grand gate but just a simple passageway.

This would have been the Sultan's most secluded refuge. We kept left and scaled some steps up to the upper terrace where we saw the wince-inducing Circumcision Pavillion.

Moving quickly on walking across the terrace we had a great view over the city.

From the gilded domed Iftar bower, a tiny balcony, we could see over the Golden Horn towards Beyoglu with the Galata Tower standing tall above the sprawl.

It was very peaceful here and we spent quite some time simply absorbing the view.

Further to the west we could see the impressive Suleymaniye Mosque commanding Istanbul's highest hill. Built by the master architect Mimar Sinan it definitely rivalled the Blue Mosque for the title of Istanbul's most magnificent mosque. It's possibly the city's most frequently used iconic image.

From here we could see why the city was known as the City of the Seven Hills. Although at that time the walled city limits did not include over the river into Beyoglu which looked quite hilly!

It surely must have been a factor when Emperor Constantine settled on this location for his new Rome which is also famous for being a city of seven hills.

At the end of this upper terrace was the pretty Baghdad Pavillion. It's known as such because it was to commemorate the capture of the Mesopotamian capital.

It seemed to be built for entertaining friends. I don't know what it was but there was something quite homely about it. Not that our home has blue ceramic tiles covering the walls and hand woven rugs adorning the floors.

Mind you the sofa did look slightly familiar and looked very inviting. I resisted the urge to lounge in a sultan-like manner. Something I imagined I could do very well. Show me a sofa and I'll show you how to lounge!

Before I clambered over the rope onto the 17th century furniture we left the Baghdad Pavillion and made our way to the furthest point of the Topkapi Palace.

From the terrace of the Konyali cafe the view out down the Bosphorous straits was fascinating. In the distance we could see the Bosphorous bridge connecting Europe to Asia and in the foreground the congested shipping lanes filling the busy waters.

We could go no further North so we returned back through the succesion of courtyards, walking down the opposite sides to which we had tread before. We didn't go inside the Treasury, despite the treasures that lay inside, there was a very a long queue that put us off.

Instead we popped our heads into a pavillion known as the Dîvân-i Hümâyûn. It was where the Imperial Council conveined in a hall known as Kubbealti. The dome inside was highly decorated and the gold leaf reflecting the sun gave it such a rich quality.

Whilst walking through the second courtyard admiring the many domes of the Harem we decided instead to pay the additional 15 lira entrance fee to enter the female sanctum.

The word Harem derives from the Arabic for forbidden. With the exception of the Sultan and his sons it was forbidden for any man with his tackle intact to enter. Thankfully the "enuchs only" rule was no longer enforced.

We were surprised to see that there wasn't a queue at the Harem ticket office. I read somewhere that the large organised tour groups either choose not visit the Harem or possibly they are discouraged to do so.

Anyway, we entered through the turnstiles and then beneath an archway, known as the Gate of Carts, above which was a beautifully inscribed plaque of gold on green.

We didn't know what to expect but it was as if we had entered a different world.

This enclosed palace within a palace sustained a large community of people. The Sultan's wives, daughters and concubines all lived here served by an army of castrated males.

The first section of note was the Courtyard of the Black Enuchs, a narrow passage lined with marble columns down one side and their barracks on the other. The walls covered in blue ceramic tiles.

At times it was like a small town with narrow cobbled streets and squares, then at other times we had entered a labyrinth of corridors connecting one palatial room to another.

We walked past (but could not enter) the Courtyard of the Valide Sultana, the Sultan's Mother. She would have been the Queen Bee of this hive, the most powerful person in here.

Coming up next was the Courtyard of the Concubines, a narrow open space around which were the harem baths, laundry, concubine dormitories and appartments of the Sultan's consort.

The life of a concubine was one of life-long slavery, often plucked as a trophy by the invading Ottomans and held captive in this pampered prison for the Sultan's pleasure. The imperial harem was often referred to as the Golden Cage, a house of oppulent captivity.

We followed the self-guided route through a collection of rooms used by the Queen Mother (Valide Sultana) her bedchamber, prayer room and salon. She had the best rooms in the complex.

She would choose "lucky ones" to be in the company of the Sultan. Over time some would become "favourites" and if they became a mother of his child they would become "consort" or even a "wife".

The Valide Sultana herself would have risen through the ranks in the same way and reached the top by virtue that her son ascended to the throne.

I found myself wondering what happened to ageing concubines and those who fell out of favour. Were they sent to work in the kitchens and the laundry room. Did they end up as dinner ladies and general skivvies? Or were they relinquished of their royal household status and thrown out to end their lives in miserable freedom?

In answering my own question I realised that at its height the harem numbered over a thousand concubines so it would appear they didn't get rid of any. The reality of life for the average concubine I'm sure was a more mundane day of daily routine and chores none of which involved sleeping with the Sultan.

After a long corridor and a walk through the Sultan's bathroom we came to the largest room in the harem, the Imperial Hall. The grandiose decoration was entrancing.

There was what looked like at first glance a four poster bed up against one wall. It was actually a "throne" of sorts, a large sofa beneath a canopy. Used as an entertainment hall this is where the Sultan would lounge and watch the performances. It was also known as the Hall of Diversions!

Behind the imperial hall were a series of smaller rooms, knowns as privy chambers of previous sultans, such as Ahmet I, Ahmet III and Murat III. It was through a latticed window we caught a glimpse of the outisde world for the first time since entering.

Doubling back on ourselves we then entered the most beautiful rooms of all, the Paired Pavillions. The intensely patterned Iznik tiles detail and stained glass windows which continued the blue floral theme were simply breathtaking.

These ornate treasure boxes were the privy chambers of the crown princes who often lived here in seclusion.

As we stepped down into the Courtyard of the Favourites we could see that the apartments were equally as attracive on the outside as they were on the inside.

The elabrorate tile work and gilded detail was stunning. It looked unreal like an image from an Arabian fantasy. Even the standard wooden shutters hanging from the golden windows were pretty.

We sat in the courtyard for a while studying the building.

It was very tranquil here. There were other people milling around but not many, and all we respectfully quiet. We sat and watched people come and go.

Before we left Julie said she was getting "sooo hungry" so I offered her a dried apricot with a peanut inserted inside. She must have been famished because she accepted despite not being a fan of dried fruit.

In fact she wouldn't eat a dried fig if it was the last thing on earth. Watching her eat the apricot was hilarious. It was like she had been forced to eat a pulsating witchity grub!

She didn't enjoy it at all but it did stop her feeling starving.

We exited the harem along a corridor known as the Golden Way where legend has it new sultan's would toss gold coins from the mezzanine level down to the concubines below. I couldn't help myself and blurted out "What a tosser!" We did have a quick look around to see if we could spot any that had fallen into a crack and been overlooked but we found none!

On leaving my thoughts soon turned to how it all came to an end. It was amazing to think that the harem was still in operation well into the 20th century up until the Ottoman dynasty was dissolved in 1922 after coming out on the loosing side in the First World War.

We left Topkapi Palace through the turretted Gate of Salutations.

The Archaelogical Musuem (accesible from the first courtyard), was still open and we knew it was shut all day tomorrow but we decided against spending another hour or so looking at Iznik tiles and further embellishments. We had enough for one day. Instead of more culture we went looking for a cafe for a drink and perhaps a snack to eat.

As we walked out through the Imperial Gate we turned right between the back of Haigha Sophia and Topkapi Palace walls down a narrow cobbled street known as Soguk Çesme Sokak.

All the houses along here were the traditional Ottoman wooden architecture restored into attractive modern homes.

The street suddenly descended steeply downhill which is always a concern becuase where there's a down there's an up!

Half way, when we were neither up nor down, we stopped at a quaint cafe laid out alongside the street. It had a great lived in feel to it, the chairs were worn, the floor as rough as the street, the back wall was the exterior wall of Topkapi.

A young group of Istanbullites (?) were sat drinking tea having a good laugh together.

An older couple arrived and sat down for a drink and the male ordered a Nagrile, one of those bubbling hookah pipes. He coughed and spluttered his way through it, much to his wife's disapprovement.

I was tempted to try the Nagrile but after watching the local struggle with inhaling the apple scented smoke I chickened out. It was just an apple tea for me and a Morkoan mint tea for Julie. The apple tea was a new experience. It was not like tea at all but just hot apple juice, nicely sour and refreshing. Julie was a little disappointed in her choice as the mint tea was heavily laced with lemon juice. It didn't matter as it was really nice to just sit down, take the weight off our feet and do some people watching.

Half an hour later it had gone three o'clock and we hadn't eaten properly all day. High on our list of somewhere for lunch was the famous Lale Restauramt aka The Pudding Shop.

We shuffled our way down the remainder of Soguk Çesme Sokak until the reached the busy street along which the trams shuttled their way up the hill towards Sultan Ahmet park. Unfortunately there were no tram stops along this stretch so we had to walk. It wasn't as steep as the old cobbled street but it was still a challenge.

By the time we reached the Pudding Shop we had worked up an almighty appetite.

We browsed the menu and I went for the classic Turkish dish of Imam Bayildi, a stuffed aubergine recipe. The waiter shook his and his finger at the same time which I took to mean they had sold out.

After explaining that I was a vegetarian he pointed to a large tray in the open kitchen and said "Yummy Yummy" and rubbed his tummy. How could I not order it after that!

It turned out to be a tasty cottage pie style dish made with a layer of peas, carrots, turnips then a thick layer of mashed potato. The only downside was that I could have eaten another portion of it.

Julie had been eyeing up the tray of roast potatoes and ordered the "Chicken with Potato" which turned out to be literally "with potato" in the singular sense as her chicken breast was accompanied by one lonely roasted spud. To make her feel even more robbed she said it was a perfectly roasted potato.

After we had eaten we decided to head back to the hotel for a siesta. We took the route back through a small park in the shadow of Firuz Aga Camii mosque.

In the Mehmet Akif Ersoy park we came across a stage where a number of musicians were going through a soundcheck.

It seemed to be part of a Fatih International Friendship Festival. (Fatih was the municipal district of Istanbul in which we were, although we were in the neighbourhood of Eminönü.)

Judging by the bunting flags it had something to do with supporting Palestine.

The performances weren't due to start for another few hours but there was already quite a large crowd gathering and sitting down in an open air auditorium.

We carried on our way towards the hippodrome. All the marathon runners had left by now. We marvelled again at the Egyptian obelisk.

Also the 5th century BC Serpentine Column, a thin twisting brass column which is believed to be from the ancient Greek city of Delphi.

It would have once been adorned with the heads of serpents but they were knocked off by a drunken 18th century Polish nobleman. Not very noble behaviour!

We arrived at the hotel around 5pm and after a few uncomfortable minutes sitting in the "garden" and refusing again our "welcome" drinks we returned to our room to hide.

The television still wasn't working. When we mentioned it later the manager just shrugged and said "It happens sometimes".

We didn't have much time to rest and relax because before we knew it we were back out on the streets walking the short distance up to the Press Museum where we had reserved tickets for a Whirling Dervish performance that began at 7:30pm.

Arriving half an hour early so we could get decent seats we were shocked to see that everyone else had the same idea only they had all arrived much earlier.

Chairs and benches had been laid out on either side of a small court. They had been gradually elevated as in an auditorium. Being the last to arrive we had no choice but to make do with the chairs at the very back. At least we could see the "stage".

The only problem was the method by which we were lifted higher than those in front. Julie and I were precariously sat on school chairs perched on top of an office desk. One false move and we could have both come crashing down to the floor.

We sat very very carefully for half an hour waiting for the preformance to start.  Keeping a close eye on us were a row of fez dressed gentlemen hanging from their portraits on the walls.

Other than that it was a very simple minimal whitewashed room.

We entertained ourselves whilst we waited by singing "spinning" songs like "You spin me right round baby, right round like a record" and "Dizzy, my head is spinning, like a whirpool it never ends" and the all time classic "My head is in a spin, my feet don't touch the ground". We had to stop ourselves as we were in real danger of falling off our perch with laughter.

On time the lights were dimmed and a troop of musicians entered followed by a narrator. He gave us an introdution to the history of the Whirling Dervish tradition. The Mevlevi order of Sufism, a mystical ascetic form of Islam, was founded in the 13th century based on the poetry a Persian poet called Rumi and we were about to witness the ceremony of Sema where the disciple attains a higher state of consciousness, a spiritual ecstasy or just plain dizzyness by entering a perpetual controlled spin.

He reminded us that this was a religious ceremony and that we should all refrain from clapping until the end of the whole performance and please "no flashing photography". We wouldn't want to distract a spinning dervish.

We began with a wonderful 20 minute musical interlude. The songs were beautifully performed by the four piece band of minstrels playing a Qanún (a harp played on the lap), a Tanbur (a lute style string instrument), a Bendir (a frame drum like a large jingle-less tambourine) and a Ney ( a reed flute).

The tanbur player also sang and his tremendous voice swirled around the songs as if it was a fifth instrument.

Next up was the main event. In total silence four men each cloaked in long black cape and sporting an elongated fez ceremoniously took centre stage.

They positioned themselves in a row, bowed, de-robed then slowly stepped to their positions at the base of the four columns. With arms folded high, palms resting on their shoulders and their eyes fixed straight ahead, the anticipation was building.

The music started and the dervishes began to spin. With their skirts billowing they lowered their arms slowly towards the floor then smoothly raising them up their body to their ears and then gracefully along the length of their very long hat until their arms were fully extended.

Then allowing the arms to fall back slightly, heads tilted to the right they settled into a position to enter their trance. Their elegant pose was almost balletic as they revolved around and around and around.

After at least five minutes of spinning on the spot they slowly lowered their arms and came to a gradual stop, returning to their folded arm resting position.

Not that it was a competition but both Julie and I agreed that one in particular looked more at ease.

His arms never faltered , his revolutions per minute constant and smooth. He certainly seemed the most experienced of the quartet.

The youngest one was struggling to hold his arms up, another's turns weren't as seemless as they should, the other wasn't able to stay in the resting pose because he was sweating so much he had to mop his brow every two seconds. That hat was made from camel felt.

A second session (or selam) soon began in exactly the same manner, graceful and gradual. Once in full flow they began to move around the stage in an anti-clockwise direction which added a little more interest into the performance.

It came to an end after another five minutes of mezmerising spin cycle.

As the third selam started we wondered what synchronised movement we had in store to entertain us this time but they reverted back to the spinning on the spot routine of the first session. It was quite hypnotic to watch.

Then there was another selam, the fourth and final one which was exactly the same again. Another five minutes of spin.

It reminded us that whilst this is considered "entertainment" by us the tourists that it was a religious ritual for the spirit.

Once they had finished their Sema they put on their black robe, bowed and left the stage. We were all hesitant to clap as we were unsure if we were suppose to or not but someone broke the seal and we all joined in to show our appreciation in applause. It had been quite a strange yet fascinating experience. I'm glad we saw them here in quite solemn surroundings and not as part of an show sandwiched in between belly dancers like some circus act.

We left the Press Museum and walked down towards Sultanahmet park to a restaurant we had selected from a guide book recommendation. It was called Rumeli and was tucked up a street called Ticarethane Sokag just off the main Divan Yolu Caddessi, a minutes walk from our hotel.

The whole area was quite touristy but Rumeli Cafe did look quite stylish. We sat outside beneath strong heat lamps. They were so powerful that infact we asked to move to another table because we were too hot.

I ordered a starter of the dish I wanted for lunch but didn't get, Imam Bayildi. This time I did get to eat the aubergine dish. I was shocked however when I took my first bite, it was cold, stone cold, straight from the refridgerator cold. I just wasn't expecting that. It was quite tasty however.

At least my main course, an Ispinakli (spinach) dish, was warm. It was nice enough but totally forgetfull. (I literally don't remember it!)

Let say I won't be asking the chef for the recipe.

Julie ordered the lamb served with baba ghanoush. The four chops on her plate played second fiddle to the aubergine mash as she really enjoyed its creamy texture and smokey flavour. She had asked for some potato on the side and to be fair to the staff they did serve some; one half of potato cut into two. Julie was feeling a little potato deprived.

Instead of heading back to the hotel we took the long way home and walked down Yerabaten Caddessi stopping at bar connected to a very colourful hotel called Kybele.

We sat on the pavement for a drink, a white wine which was like paint stripper for Julie and a refreshing glass of Efes lager for me.

I was still a little hungry so I decided to have my dessert now and ordered a rice pudding. It was wonderfully creamy and sweet and ice cold which better complimented my beer!

It just felt really odd sitting at a table on a pavement eating rice pudding at eleven o'clock at night.

Half an hour later we were back in our room. We had been on our feet for most of the day and it all caught up with us. Moments after "skyping" Hannah (who had just got back home after going out to collect an Indian take-away) we fell asleep.

Next Day >