The Poetic Flow of the Bosphorus, Istanbul
The Bosphorus unfolding from the Çırağan Palace, Istanbul.
Later that morning in Venice, I set off for Torcello. I boarded the vaporetto at San Zaccaria, a landing stage that has often reminded me of the pier at Beşiktaş in Istanbul. Both possess the same ceaseless rhythm of boats arriving and departing, the same sense of perpetual movement upon the water. Yet above all, it is the seagulls that unite them.
One day, I unexpectedly encountered my Venetian seagull on the shores of the Bosphorus.
The enduring rhythm of boats between Europe and Asia through the Bosphorus Strait.
Istanbul does not lend itself to solitary walks in quite the same way as Venice. Venice invites quiet wandering almost instinctively, while Istanbul reveals itself in carefully protected corners where the city briefly pauses beside the water. Yet, in my imagination, the two have always shared the bond of mother and daughter — different in temperament, yet linked by centuries of memory across the Eastern Mediterranean.
I remember, late one afternoon, being at the Çırağan Palace in Istanbul. I left a cocktail reception and descended the marble staircase into the gardens, making my way towards the Bosphorus.
The richly ornamented gate pier of the Çırağan Palace on the Bosphorus.
A solitary seagull stood upon a wooden post, watching me with unusual composure. As I approached, it unfolded its wings and rose effortlessly into the air, crossing the Bosphorus towards Asia. Without ever seeming to struggle against the powerful currents below, it described a perfect arc before returning to the European shore, alighting once more upon the Sultan's marble pier.
I remained standing for a moment, following its flight until it disappeared into stillness.
A verdant vista of Kanlıca, where the Asian shore of the Bosphorus meets lush, tranquil beauty.
The Bosphorus has always struck me as more than a strait. Its swift currents divide two continents, yet they have never prevented ideas, people and cultures from passing between them. They possess a quiet poetry, born of perpetual movement rather than stillness.
Perhaps this is why the Bosphorus so often brings Venice to my mind. One city opens towards the lagoon, the other towards the sea, yet both have lived their histories through water. Their harbours have welcomed merchants, pilgrims, ambassadors and travellers whose journeys connected worlds that often seemed far apart.
The elegance of Bosphorus mansions, exemplified by the Ahmed Afif Pasha Yalı, built between 1900 and 1910.
The lagoon of Venice, no more than a tiny mark upon the map, never fails to give me the feeling that I am travelling towards the edge of the known world. The Bosphorus, by contrast, reminds me that every crossing is also an encounter. Between these two cities, separated by geography yet united by memory, water becomes not a boundary but a continuous dialogue.
A mesmerising night view of the Bosphorus during dinner at the Çırağan Palace.
I believe the most memorable journeys are the ones lived slowly, allowing time for beauty, reflection and genuine connection.
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