First, you have to understand something about Ata to fully comprehend how wonderful this day was for me (you probably all know by now how much I lovvvee learning the history and facts behind the places I travel, you might even know I read travel guides and watch Rick Steves for fun...). Ata is THE most amazing story teller. He made every place we went come alive with incredible tales of love, passion, struggles and ordinary life. He filled in details so lush you could feel the places coming alive again right around you. And he orchestrated each visit so that the story was perfectly paced with the site. And he won over Tori and Nat by allowing us to stop for snacks along the way.
The first place we went was the Basilica cistern.
Ata made us get there a half an hour before it open in order to be first in line to beat the crowds, and I'm so glad he did. As I'm sure you know, a cistern is a man-made underground water storage tank that provides water for the surrounding area. This historic cistern is remarkable not only in the fact that it is still holding water, not only in the fact that it was completely forgotten as Istanbul grew and changed on top of it, but is especially remarkable because of its beauty. The cistern was hurriedly built before some byzantine war, so the resourceful byzantines plundered nearby ruined temples and recycled the pillars.
Because the pillars were originally meant for the glory of gods above ground, they are beautiful, and the cistern looks like some hidden underground temple or palace. The cistern was dimly lit, with beautiful classical Turkish music piped in echoing through the cavernous room. As we were the first ones in, we had the place somewhat to ourselves for the majority of our visit, which made the experience much more reverent feeling. We stepped out of the cool, dark cistern and back out into the blistering heat of the day.Next we went through the Topkapi palace, the old palace of the sultans, abandoned toward the end (read: decline) of the Ottoman empire.
The palace is built in a series of courtyards and gardens, back in the day, entrance through each subsequent gate was increasingly difficult and prestigious, 
culminating in the personal residence and harem of the sultan. Though the palace was empty of furnishings (they're all at the new European palace), there was an amazing display of some of the crown jewels, including a diamond roughly the size of a fist. Ata and my Dad started laughing when Tori, Nat and I ooed and ahhed.After a quick lunch, we headed off to the Blue Mosque, where I was given a incredibly flattering bright blue tarp to wrap around my inadequately covered legs, and all us ladies wrapped our shawls around our heads.
I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't what I saw. After the pervasive, weighty darkness and gloom of Italian Cathedrals I experienced last year, the lightness and spaciousness of the Blue Mosque caught me off guard.
It suggested such a different idea of God and worship. God was still big, still impressive, but not in an overpowering, looming manner. 
The light, delicacy of design, and openness combined with the sheer magnitude of space suggested the presence of a lovely and loving omnipresent God big enough to hold incredible dualities. I can't quite put my finger on it, I'll have to give that more thought.That's where we wrapped up for the day, and where I'll wrap up this entry. Next post, Hagia Sophia, my favorite spot in Istanbul.
Katie
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