Map of Istanbul in the 1800s
Istanbul, especially its Asian coast, was shrouded in mist. The cypresses and minarets I saw through this mist resembled a deciduous forest. As I approached Sarayburnu, a north wind arose and dispersed the mist in a few minutes, leaving me standing before the palace of the Sultan of the Faithful; as if by the stroke of a magician's wand, everything had changed. Before me, the Black Sea Bosphorus meandered like a pleasant river among smiling hills; to my right lay the land of Asia, the city of Üsküdar; to my left lay the land of Europe; with its indentations and large ships at anchor, it formed a wider bay, while countless smaller ferries passed over the sea. Those who say Istanbul is the most beautiful place in the world are not exaggerating at all. François René de Chateaubriand, 1806
“At five o'clock, I was standing on the ship's deck; the captain had a boat launched, and I was boarding with him; we were sailing along the sea-swept walls of Istanbul toward the mouth of the Bosphorus… God and man, nature and art, have conspired here to create the most wondrous spectacle that human eyes can ever behold on earth. I couldn't hold myself back; I cried out; I forgot forever the Gulf of Naples and its magic; to attempt to compare this majestic and elegant assembly with any other spectacle would be to blaspheme the creation of the universe… The city's seven hills flowed into the Golden Horn, an arm of the sea; this unique, incomparable Istanbul was city, countryside, sea, harbor, riverbanks, gardens, forested mountains, deep valleys, a sea of shelters built of houses and buildings, a confluence of ships and streets, silent lakes, and a land of magical solitude. No painter's brush could fully capture this place.” "He cannot paint it, he has to concentrate on its details; and every stroke of the oar leads the eye and the soul to another appearance, another effect." Alphonse de Lamartine, 1833
It was December 30, 1835, when we anchored in the Golden Horn; my long-cherished hopes had finally come true; before me stood the ‘sultan of cities,’ enthroned atop crowded hills, its shores wreathed in palaces, its silvery waters lapping at the Bosphorus. After a night of intense agony in the Sea of Marmara, I could barely drag myself aboard; when I finally managed to do so, the ship had already reached its anchorage beneath the walls of the palace garden. The weather was heavy with snow; for the first time, I saw Istanbul wrapped in the fur coat of this harshest of seasons. Even so, among the chaos of sensations that swarmed over me, one stood out: pure delight. How could it be otherwise? It was as if I were gazing into a fairyland, seeing my wildest dreams materialize, and thus becoming a man of the new world… These beautiful illusions that so enriched my imagination… I can't forgive myself for conveying it so dryly." Miss Julia Pardoe, 1835
"We are in the dazzling harbor of Istanbul. This is
undoubtedly the most beautiful place in the world. With its vibrant and verdant
horizons, painted houses, exquisitely elegant mosques, and lead-covered domes,
Istanbul inspires only beautiful ideas and sweet dreams." Gérard de
Nerval, 1843
“All the passengers were on deck, alert so as not to miss
the entrance to the Bosphorus.... In the sky, high up, as high as they could
go, first in the obscurity of the distance, a giant appeared, the incomparable
silhouette of the city.... At that moment when everything was uncertain, almost
vanished, only the lofty domes and minarets were always visible above the sea's
eerie mist. The magnificent high borders of Istanbul remained. And then, so to
speak, that beloved Turkish life of mine that would never end—everything I had
left behind with bitterness and regret—was etched into the depths of my eyes,
never to be erased. I can paint its picture by heart, without error.” Pierre
Loti, 1890
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