Shakespeare in London

London was good medicine for my obsession for historic buildings on the eve of my return to the western United States. London's historic buildings would probably be more meaningful to me than some of the others I encountered this year but, in London, I didn't much notice them due to my love of theater. When I visited London years ago, I went to three musicals--including Les Miserables. Between that visit and this, I heard that a replica of the Globe theater had been built and have long wanted to see a play there. During this visit, I managed to make it to three. In between, I went on the tour and spent time reading the exhibits about the original Globe theater.

As a Shakespeare enthusiast, it was satisfying to learn something about the setting of most of Shakespeare's plays. First, why the theater was where it was: The original Globe was located across the river from the city which made it easier for the company to operate at a time when the Puritans were adamently against theater and the local authorities in London succumbed to the pressure and, inconsistently, applied restrictions. I'm not very clear about theater-politics in those days (royalty sponsored plays and Elizabeth was a Shakespeare fan too) but it being across the river next to the bars and brothels was a strategy to allow the play to go on. How the theater go there in the first place is also interesting. The business guy had a theater on the London side of the river on rented land and when the lease was over, he technically had the right to the building but, in practice, the building would come under the control of the land owner. So one night when the river was frozen over and the land owner was out of town, the theater business guy and some buddies took the building apart and moved it across the river and rebuilt it as the Globe--safe from the increasingly restrictive anti-theater regulations.

The second thing I learned about Shakespeare plays by having visited the Globe was pointed out during the tour of the place. It involves the ambitiousness of Elizabethan theater. A commentary I read soon afterwards explains it well:

Elizabethan theater ... [involves] a complex playing area, with a
central platform, an alcove or discovery space at the rear, flanked by doors, a trap door leading to a cellarage below, a balcony or balustraded space above, with possibly a second level above that,
and on the platform itself a pari of great columns that divide the stage. We have a versatile, multiple playing space which can represent locales such as a field, a castle, a city wall, a ship's deck, a forest, a
desert, a cave, a cell, a tavern, a hall of state, or a street, in free
alternation or succession. Characters can wander in from one
door and out another, lean out of windows or emerge from the alcove, skulk behind pillars or peer from over arrases, and they may occupy two or more parts of the stage simultaneously. ... [Such as] in historical plays, when besieging armies stationed on the platform challenge the defenders of a town or castle situated above ... other theaters aim at compression and selectivity, at making a little stand for a lot. The Elizabethans wish to drag the whole lot bodily onto the stage. The other theaters hedge themselves about with exclusions and taboos. The really exciting actions, the violence, the sensationalism, the amorous encounters, the magical occurrences, all happen, as Victor Hugo complained, frustratingly offstage. Only the Elizabethans, with
their split-level stage, theirm dumb shows, gods, and ghosts,
their gluttony for spectacular effects, try to make everying at once
visible, audible, and palpable" (Jonas A. Barish, "Multiple Scenes,
Characters, and Plots in Elizabethan Drama" 61-64 in Elizabethan Drama, Laura K Egendorf, editor).

The tour guide also pointed out that the Globe theater was destroyed by fire during a performance of Henry VIII. The company decided that they had to pull out all the stops to depict the founder of the Tudor dynasty and Elizabeth's father so they used a real cannon--the firing of which lit the thatched roof on fire and that was the end of the original Globe. I guess a case can be made for keeping it simple.

One of the interesting options for theater-goers in the Elizabethan era was to pay a minimal admission and stand up through the performance--to be a "groundling." This tradition was resurrected with the reconstruction of the edifice. When I heard about the modern version of groundlings, I had heard that they, like their Elizabethan era counterparts, yelled at the actors and that the actors responded to them but, unfortunately, the groundlings I witnessed were much more well behaved. I liked the idea of saving a substantial number of pounds for each ticket but figured that my hosts (who let me stay with them a bit outside London) deserved seats. I also wanted to save my legs for walking around town and rather than for standing for a few three hour Shakespeare plays. On my last day in the city I decided to go back for another Shakespeare play and would have done the "groundling" thing but none were available so I sat again.

If I make it back to London, I'll probably trade the ideal setting for the best acting and try to catch a play by the Royal Shakespeare Company. I'd also like to make the ultimate Shakespearean pilgrimage to Shakespeare's home neighborhood at Stratford upon Avon.

When in Rome

I finally succumbed to the enticement to stop off in Italy on a trip home from Israel. I looked into spending time in Venice and Ravenna and perhaps fitting in some cycling in the Po river valley but finally settled on a more conventional itinerary--Rome and Florence. My first impression of Rome was how quiet is was. I still don't know if my ears were confused after the flight (did I sneeze at high altitude?) or if it really is exceptionally quiet for a big city.

I walked from the airport to the train station and bought my ticket and noticed the train to downtown leaving. So I waited for the next train and hoped that I could still fit in the tourist bus ride around the city and the church and museum that I noticed were near my hostel. The train stopped for a while in the middle and took nearly an hour longer than it should have so I was only able to fit in the tour bus ride. It was the first time I had been on something like that and found it to be a great way to get oriented to the city.

Over the next three days I did a pretty good job of maximizing my exposure to Rome's top sites. The arch of Constantine was at the top of my list and I was prepared with an explanation of what was depicted on every corner of the triumphal arch. I took corresponding pictures and could quickly be prepared with a slide show were anyone to care to hear about it. A couple of days later I caught a different view of the arch from the Colosseum.

The forum is like an old graveyard for historic buildings. An archaeologists dream which I feared would be a tourist's nightmare. I went there on something like European historical site appreciation day. That meant everyone could go there for free and it seemed like plenty of folks took up the offer. I didn't think anything of it until I asked for an audio guide and was told that there were none available. I hadn't read anything about all those pilars lying around but I decided to walk around and try to make sense of the place. Fortunately I found the Arch of Titus and played the part of the Hebrew University student and noted the famous depiction of the manorah that the Romans took from Jerusalem's temple. The Arch of Titus is a lot less elaborate than that of Constantine so I had a more brief absorption period but definitely allowed it time to sink in. The forum has a lot more and I even figured out what a few other things were about but I'm afraid my appreciation of the famous hills and the figurative graveyard could have been more profound.

After having exercised my imagination with the idea of a hippodromo (chariot race track) in Istanbul, running across Rome's was nice. It was interesting to see that the track that the chariots raced around continues to be preserved by some of the more fit of the city's inhabitants. Other than the jogging track, there is little remaining--I'm sure most tourists don't take note of it.

There are various other monuments that I enjoyed seeing and which I'll probably write about as part of this entry later but one of the more memorable experiences involved catching up with an Italian friend who was a fellow student of the Hebrew University and who lives in Rome. We met for dinner and talked about contemporary Italy as well as the Europe (she's an activist advocating the E.U. becoming like the U.S.). Then we hopped on a bus back towards the central bus station as our hostel was very near to it. We tried to get her to explain to us how to pay but she explained that nobody in Rome pays for such things as bus fares. In fact, she noted that the national airline's trouble is largely due to so many Italians being able to fly free due to their being a distant relative of someone who works for the airlines or who works for a complany who has a contract with the airlines. That was one of those mind warping ideas that I still can't get myself to really believe. In any case, I'll confess that I didn't pay for the bus ride--when in Rome, right?

Byzantine Churches in Thessaloniki

Many of Thessaloniki's featured tourist sites are Byzantine Churches and on my first day in the city, I came across a free pamplet called "Byzantine Churches of Thessaloniki." This was very helpful since I hadn't studied much before arriving and my friend's western oriented tour book focused more on where to get drunk than on Byzantine Churches and provided very little information about the few churches it mentioned. The intact (undoubtedly heavily restored) churches functioning as such were a refreshing change from Israel where the Byzantine layer is often destroyed as archaeologists dig through it to get to the Biblical levels and from Turkey where most of the remaining Byzantine churches serve as mosques (in Thessaloniki, many of the churches had been converted into mosques but were converted back to churches at the end of Ottoman rule). I visited nine Byzantine Churches and caught glimpses of a few others but the following were particularly memorable and illustrate different styles of Byzantine Churches:

Galerius' Rotunda of St. George (Galerius' Tomb)

The uniqueness of this church's form is due to it's having been built as a tomb and only later made into a church. The tomb was to be for the Roman ruler Galerius--who was involved in Roman leadership during the Tetrarchy that began with Diocletian and ended with Constantine.
Galerius spent a lot of time in Thessaloniki between 299 and 303 c.e. and had his palace in the city as well an arch dedicated to his having defeated the Persians around 298 c.e. These remains are archaeological highlights of Thessaloniki today. Galerius didn't die there as he seems to have planned on doing so the tomb lay empty until the Emperor Constantine ordered that the empty tomb be converted into a church dedicated to the Archangels.

This transformation from tomb to church involved the addition of a sancturary as an extention of the east bay of the rotunda (shown here protruding towards the photographer from the cylinder-shaped building). There are supports at each side of the apse which were added after an earthquake.

Later, Christians added mosaics to the building. The apse is decorated with a 9th century fresco of the Ascension. The interior of the highest drum before the dome features mosaics interspersed with now enclosed windows. This is explained as having been an architectural feature that allowed significant amount of light to illuminate the gold on the mosaics and interior of the dome.

This church was interesting for me because I have read that the octogonal churches in the Holy Land that usually mark a holy site (such as Capernaum, the original Churches of the Holy Sepulcre and original Church of the Nativity among others) are modeled after Roman emperors' tombs. In this case, it may have simply been that a monument was available and Constantine, having recently adopted Christianity, decided to put the building to use.

Hagia Sofia (Holy Wisdom)

The 5th century Hagia Sofia church was inspired by the famous church with the same name in Constantinople / Istanbul. It may be that Thessaloniki's Hagia Sofia is a copy of the church in Constantinople that was destroyed before the larger Hagia Sofia was built by Justinian in the 6th century. Still, Thessaloniki's Hagia Sofia has features that serve as reminds of the renowned Hagia Sofia. First, there is a dome in the center with supporting pilars. The marble of the Constantinople's Hagia Sofia that stands out is maroon, deep green, and deep green and the walls in Thessaloniki's version are painted in the same tones. The upper gallery of the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul is painted in a dirty yellow with floral designs and Thessaloniki's exterior is a similar color. Finally, both Istanbul and Thessaloniki's Hagia Sofia churches are in a domed Basilica style.

The Saint Demetrios Church is an early Byzantine Basilica (without a dome) and also dates from teh 5th century. Although a reconstruction after having been destroyed in a fire in the 20th century, the Saint Demetrios Church is interesting for it's once standard 5 aisle form. Details such as columns and capitals from the original building and the crypt give the church a feeling of uniqueness. The crypt was part of a Roman bath-house.

These 5th century Basilicas served were designed for the processional liturgy of the early Byzantine church. Such events could involved thousands of worshippers who moved around within the building.

St. Katherine's Church & The Church of the Holy Apostles
Encountering St. Katherine's Church (pictured here) and The Church of the Holy Apostles lifted my Thessaloniki Byzantine church tour from the level of energetic intellectual curiousity to absorbed aesthetic appreciation. I first encountered The Church of the Holy Apostles when my companions had had enough and went back to the hostel to put in some time at the beach. I calculated that being done for the day would make it nearly impossible to hit all the listed Byzantine Churches so I stayed in town for an uncharacteristicly late evening.

I don't know what it is about these two churches that struck my aesthetic chord. As an observer or art, it's rare that I experience the sublime level of appreciation until after I've studied something pretty thoroughly--I reached that point with the exterior of Byzantine churches after chasing down quite a number of them and reading some brief commentaries about features from different periods. Most of my reading about things Byzantine is about emperors and diplomatic and religious issues.

Both of the churches were both built in the early 14th century, during the Palaiologan dynasty near the end of the Byzantine Empire. These are "cross-in-square" churches, which were "dominant in [late] Byzantine ecclesiastical architecture until the close of the Middle Ages ... The idea was very simple and based entirely on structural elements deeply rooted in the Byzantine tradition: that of a dome rising above four barrel vaults, arranged so as to form a Greek cross." This type of church was small and "designed ... to hold a congregation of about one hundred ... the cross-in-square church arose in a monastic milieu. A Byzantine monestary normally numbered a brotherhood of between twenty and one hundred" (Mango, Cyril. Byzantine Architecture, 178). These churches were used for more private worship involving individual prayer and the interaction between the worshipper and icons. This type of worship lead to churches having numerous small spaces including private chapels (Ousterhout, Master Builders of Byzantium, 9-10).

The structure of the two churches is similar--they have five domes with the central and corner domes being nearly the same size. The height of the relatively small domes above the roof creates room for windows with stepped arches around small windows. I think this is what makes the exterior so appealing to me. In addition, each of the churches had appealing unique features: The Church of the Holy Apostles has decorative brickwork on its exterior while the St. Katherine's Church has double and triple openings on the facade.

The interior design of the churches of this period draw praise from art commentators but I wasn't too absorbed by this, although I have been in various of Istanbul's Byzantine churches.

The Church of the Prophet Elijah

The Church of the Prophet Elijah was the surprise of my visit. I had read about Mt. Athos and the style of church that is typical there and was pleased to find that such a church was on display in Thessaloniki. Like St. Katherines and the Church of the Holy Apostles, this church was built in the later Byzantine period which featured small churches built for monastic groups.

The Church of the Prophet Elijah's compact structure shares common features of later Byzantine church design but is also an example of a unique type. The lateral apses were added in order to provide space for monastic choirs. This design is "limited to Mount Athos, where about twenty examples are preserved, and to related areas in Northern Greece and in the Balkans" (Ousterhout, 29 note 40).

Thinking about Byzantine Churches in Thessaloniki brought me an appreciation of the last period of Byzantine: the Palaiologan Dynasty (previously, my interest in Byzantine had focused on the early period when the Byzantine Empire was much stronger and when the creeds were crafted). It turns out that the Palaiologan period was the high point of Byzantine art--and is said to have influenced, or even sparked, the Italian renaissance.

Works Cited

Mango, Cyril. Byzantine Architecture. 1974. Harry N. Arams, Inc.

Ousterhout, Master Builders of Byzantium. 2007. University of Pennsylvania Museum Publication.

Imaginary Return to Bulgaria

If I were to return to Bulgaria, I would follow the same basic route I took on my recently trip: enter Bulgaria from Turkey near Edirne, then to Plovdiv and Sofia, ending in the southwestern mountains before leaving the country. This path seems to include the most interesting cities in terms of history and provides plenty of great hiking opportunities. Of course the five days we spent along this route was not enough time to experience most of what is offered so here are some notes on what I didn't do but became aware of and would seek to do if I were there again.

First, I would enter Bulgaria after spending time in Edirne, Turkey. Edirne features what Ottoman architect Mimar Sinan considered his finest work, the Selimiye Mosque. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selimiye_Mosque. There are other Ottoman mosques dating back to before the time when the Ottomans conquered Istanbul which show the progression of architectural styles leading up to the pinnacle of Sinan's work.

On the Bulgarian side of the border, I would head straight for Plovdiv (if I really had a lot of time I would also visit Stara Zagora and get to nearby mountain city of Karlovo from which more hiking is available). Many Bulgarians asked whether or not we had seen Plovdiv so it comes highly recommended. The highlight seems to be the old town, which has a 19th century appearance. There are also Roman remains and a fourth century church called the Church of St. Constantine and Elena. They nearby Bachkovo Monestary in the Rodopi Mountains seems to be thought of after Rila Monastery but Rila has been destroyed more often and rebuilt more recently so I think I would appreciate the Bachkovo Monestary more than Rila. The Bachkovo Monestary was built in 1083 by two Georgian brothers and helped preserve elements of Bulgarian culture during the 500 years of Ottoman rule over Bulgaria--the exemplary tale being that the monks, apparently on the eve of some incursion by the Turks, hid an icon of the Virgin Mary and Child in the moutains allowing its preservation and rediscovered by shephards centuries later. I didn't hear the whole story but I imagine monks hiding the venerated icon before being attacked--perhaps it was the last thing they did before being killed.

I imagine that visiting the Bachkovo Monastery would put me on a mountain with well marked trails and mountain huts such as Rila provided. I love the balance of wilderness exercise and a museum / historic city experience. The tourist interest in the monasteries seems to inspire Bulgarians to provide options of public transportation to the mountains as well as well maintained hiking trails in the area.

After Plavdov and environs, I would return to Sofia. Downtown Sofia is an affordable European capitol and there are many churches and museums I bypassed. I would also return to Mt. Vitosha for additional hiking.

I would certainly return to the Rila Mountains and spend more time there. The trails were incredibly well maintained with colored trails and enough signage to prevent the first time visitor from worrying much. While we hiked in the Rila Mountains, we didn't make it to the featured destinations. A hike starting in the outpost town of Maliovitsa and straight up the path to Mt. Maliovitsa and then to Sedemte Ezera (the Seven Lakes) and ending at Rila Monestary should be given two or three days. To get to Maliovitsa, go the Yug bus station in Sofia at 9 a.m. (only available once a day). This seems the best option as you can start hiking and at least get to the Maliovitsa mountain hut the same day. I got mixed reviews about the mountain huts (hizha) and we didn't make it to one to allow for my own observations so I would take along minimal camping gear so as to not be reliant on them.

We considered this route for our recent stay but we were dragging too much stuff along so we made Blagoevgrad our base. This was effective. Blagoevgrad is a big enough city to have things available and is right on the train and bus routes between Sofia and Thessaloniki. It is a college town and was very quiet due to summer break. It also is easy to get from Blagoevgrad to Rila Village and then Rila Monestary and Mountains. It may be best to get up to Rila Village and spend a night there as the buses from Rila Village to Rila Monestary run at 7:40 a.m.; 12:40 p.m. and 3:50 p.m. (with returns available around 6:00 p.m.). It may be cutting it close to hike from Rila Monestary to a mountain hut after taking the 12:40 p.m. bus so the 7:40 a.m. bus would make the most sense.

The manager of Pirin Apartment in Blagoevgrad told of his spending a week every September hiking in the Pirin Mountains. He prefers the Pirin Mountains to the Rila Mountains and hiking there would be a major draw inspiring my return. I'm not sure if there might be another city more convenient as a base for the Pirin excursion but Blagoevgrad is not too out of the way and if Rila and Pirin Mountains are explored on one trip, Pirin is close enough to Blagoevgrad that backtracking wouldn't be too inconvenient.

Aside from Greece, Bulgaria borders other Balkan countries and taking off from the southwest to places like Kosovo, Serbia and / or Croatia might be more appealing than a return to Greece.

For a reader who is reading this as a temptation to travel to Bulgaria, here are some practical considerations. Even with the weak dollar in 2008, everything was on the affordable side. We spent less than $10 per person per meal for abundant food at mid-range restaurants, which is remarkable compared to the typical no-less than $20 that I've encountered in western European cities. The bus rides and train rides between cities and countries were in the range of $20 to $40 dollars. There was a lot of English but we traveled most of the time with a Bulgarian friend. Spanish came in handy a few times--even in the mountains we encountered shepherds and were able to communicate due to my knowing Spanish and one of them knowing Italian.

Bulgaria

The bus ride from Istanbul to the border wasn't far and my long time friend Carolynn and I had our first extended conversation in a long time so the trip went by quickly. The border took a bit more than an hour as should be expected and then we were in Bulgaria and on the same bus towards Sofia.

The scenery had become a bit more hilly as we approached Bulgaria by bus from Istanbul and once we were on the other side of the border it was getting mountainous. On both side there were many fields of sunflowers. I had initially been attracted to Bulgaria when I heard about the Soviet encouragement of hiking as recreation and the claim of well mark trails was later confirmed. We, unfortunately, sailed through Plovdiv. People rave about it but we had only around five days and split that time between Sofia and the Rila Mountain area, including the city of Blagoevgrad.

We arrived Friday afternoon and went to a restaurant with live Bulgarian music and Bulgarian style cuisine that we enjoyed so much that we returned the next day. Saturday we hiked on the nearby Mt. Vitosha. This mountain provides a convenient escape for Sofia's residents and getting a bus ride there on Saturday morning meant competing for bus space with numerous locals. Our half day made it clear that there were many paths that could keep one exploring for many days. The first part of the hike was along a bolder covered river called "the Golden Bridges" which featured large bolders covering a stretch of the river longer than we managed to explore. We left the trail for a time and sometimes had to jump between the bolders.

We rejoined the trail and hiked along the mountain and then down to Boyana Church, which is famous for frescoes considered forerunner of the Renaissance due to their realism and emotional expressiveness. Outside, it appeared as a quaint neighborhood Byzantine church with a peaceful forest setting most of the way down Mt. Vitosha.

We spent the afternoon sightseeing in Sofia. We saw a Russian Orthodox Church, a Bulgarian Orthodox Church and then a Byzantine Basilica.

The Bulgarian Orthodox Church, called St. Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is neo-Byzantine style cross domed basilica. with a central dome and barrel vaults. Among the paintings are realistic depictions of scriptural scenes as well as saints--all of which were well laid out such that the interior didn't feel noisy despite all wall space above about 6 feet being covered with some art work. With the choir singing for the religious service it was a satisfying scene to absorb.

The Byzantine Basilica was in great condition (undoubtedly after restoration) and there was a memorial plaque to Bulgaria's King Boris III, who had refused Nazi requests regarding Bulgaria's Jewish population. I talked to my new friend George about this king and was very impressed by his courage. George explained that Boris was invited to Germany during the war and "fell ill and died." Of course, Bulgarians believe that he was poisoned--a martyr to resistence to the Holocaust. The story was inspiring and I'm hoping to soon read about this King Boris.

Sunday after church we traveled to Blagoevgrad and then to Rila Mountains where we engaged in a long hike with exceptional views and close up encounters with flocks of sheep. Wednesday morning we felt rested and refreshed as we alighted the train to Thessaloniki, taking with us memories of a brief introduction to a surprisingly fascinating country.

Boat Rides around Istanbul

After passing through Turkey my companions and I spent a number of days in Istanbul. Since my last visit, I have read about Byzantium and Byzantine monuments still existing in Istanbul so I visited a number of additional Byzantine sites and revisited many others (I have added many notes to the February 2008 blog entry on this topic). But one of my companions is a photographer in search of the scenic regardless of historic significance and he wasn't especially interested in historic monuments. He prefered to roam far beyond the walled old city that is so full of historic sites that I was content staying there. I found that there is a lot to see beyong the city walls. Much of our roaming involved walks through picturesque neighborhoods and much was by boat.

Our first scenic boat ride was from the mouth of the Golden Horn to a point beyond the old city wall at a historic and religious neighborhood. From there, we hiked through a moslem cemetary to a scenic outlook where there is a cafe and gift shop dedicated to the French author Pierre Loti. I paid the $6 for his first novel and read a little less than the first third before shelfing it for perceived lack of depth. I haven't yet encountered much of the descriptiveness of late 19th century Istanbul which make his works marketable to visiters to the city. But the view is worth the excursion.

The second excursion by boat was up the Bosphorus--much longer and more rewarding.
Along the way, there are a pair of Ottoman Castles that were used by the Ottomans to cut off supplies to the Byzantines during the seige that lead to the ultimate demise of the Byzantine Empire. The final destination is a Byzantine castle that must have played a role in controlling the strategic Bosphorus. We walked up from the village to the castle and from there caught a glimpse of the Black Sea.

I had taken ferries before to get from the European side to the Asian side but it took a friend's fresh prespective to provide me with the different angle on the city I'm becoming quite familiar with.

Konya

I felt like the stars where aligned for us when we arrived in Konya and heard that once a week there was a free whirling dervish ceremony in the order’s cultural center. We had dinner and went in search of the place. The ceremony was certainly less energetic than folk dancing concerts I have witnessed. In fact, it was relaxing enough and my bed time is early enough that if it had gone on much longer I would have probably fallen asleep. But it was interesting and reading the short explanation about it in the guide book (again, afterwards as intellectual preparation wasn’t a theme of this trip) enhanced my appreciation.

The guidebook description of The Mevlevi worship ceremony, or sema:

The dervishes dress in long white robes with full skirts that represent their shrouds. Their voluminous black cloaks symbolize their worldly tombs, their conical felt hats their tombstones.
The ceremony begins when the hafiz, a scholar who has committed the entire Quran to memory, intones a prayer for Mevlana and a verse from the Quran. A kettledrum booms out, followed by the plaintive sound of the ney (reed flute). Then the sheyh (master) bows and leads the dervishes in a circle around the hall. After three circuits, the dervishes drop their black cloaks to symbolize their deliverance from worldly attachments. Then one by one, arms folded on their breasts, they spin out onto the floor as they relinquish the earthly life to be reborn in mystical union with God. By holding their right arms up, they receive the blessings of heaven, which are communicated to earth by holding their left arms turned down. As they whirl, they form a ‘constellation’ of revolving bodies, which itself slowly rotates. They sheyh walks among them to check that each dervish is performing the ritual properly. The dance is repeated over and over again. Finally, the hafiz again chants passages from the Quran, thus sealing the mystical union with God.

The museum surrounding the tomb of the poet Rumi (whose followers created the Dervish society) was another highlight.

The mosque on a small hill in the center of town had remnants of Byzantine buildings in the doorway and reused Byzantine columns in the worship area. However, the more interesting part of the site were two tombs in front of the entrance. These were the tomb of Seljuk rulers including: Alaeddin Keykubat I, Sultan Mesut I, Kilic Arslan, Kilic Arslan IV, Rukneddin Suleyman II, and Giyaseddin Keyhusrev I, II, and III.

We met the master felt maker at his workshop. I didn’t know the first thing about felt so my basic questions led to an explanation of what fur from the sheep is initially harvested and a bit about how the process works. We saw some felt at different stages of the process but mostly admired finished and near finished products. It was clear that he was a provider of felt hats to the dervishes and he explained some of the process of making the hats. He told of how he goes to wool festivals in the U.S.A. and that he will be bringing a couple of yurt to sell during his next trip.

At the end of the day, we got on an overnight train to Istanbul. I had been exposed to a new corner of the world that was foreign enough to be full of surprises.