2025/11/23 The Byzantiboo's Guide to Constantinople Part 1
Not long ago, I was holidaying in Constantinople. Constantinople: that great city of Constantine, Justinian, Heraclius and Basil the Bulgar Slayer, so pregnant with history from its earliest Bronze Age beginnings to the present day, where it still continues to be a world city. It has been a world centre for the last two-thousand years, a focal point connecting Europe and Asia in geography, in trade, and in culture. And visiting, you feel those complexities and tensions. It isn't a simple place. But let's say that, like me, you aren't too interested in the Ottoman Turks. Like me, you might be sad that the Christian lands of the New Rome were invaded and ruled by steppe peoples for the past six-hundred years. And, like me, the year '1453' may make your stomach turn. If so, I understand. I understand your pain. And I too play EU4. But what's more, today I have for you a guide detailing all the Byzantine sites of Constantinople you too can go and see. Indeed, this is the Byzantiboo's Guide to Constantinople. First, a small note. The Mosaic Museum tragically was closed when I visited for restoration, and those restorations have yet to be completed. This museum has original Byzantine mosaics from the Great Palace which were excavated in situ. I wish I could've gone. Alas.
Column of Constantine
An odd choice for the first site, you may think. But, though the truthful reason I've placed it first is that I'm listing the sites in the order I saw them, the more thoughtful justification I'll present for placing the Column of Constantine first is that it is the first site. The first built, I mean. Erected by Emperor Constantine upon moving the capital from the Old Rome to the New, the column is composed of porphyry, a somewhat rare purplish granite popular with the Byzantines. A bronze case of Constantine dressed in Apollonian garb once stood upon the column, it is written, until a storm blew poor Constantine off his column and he was replaced with a cross in the twelfth century. The Ottomans were unsurprisingly unimpressed with the cross, taking it down, but leaving the column to stand. And how could they have taken it down? Not only is the column beautiful, but truly enormous too, in height and in girth. The picture can't do it justice, it towers above. The Turks call it Çemberlitaş, literally meaning 'burnt column', which I suppose is a satisfactory name given the colour.
The Theodosian Walls
Goth, Hun, Bulgar, Avar, Pecheneg, Magyar: none managed. None managed to breach the Theodosian Walls. Byzantium was in a perpetual state of war with enemies in every direction, sometimes operating in concert. To the East were Turkmen and Arabs attempting to invade Anatolian possessions; to the West were the Latins, whose friendship was so often pretend; and to the North were endless barbarian tribes from the steppe who sent hordes upon hordes of warriors to rape and pillage the riches of Byzantium. These walls, built by Theodosius II, were the integral line of defence, playing a leading role in every war they fought. Much of the walls are now lost, quarried for other building projects no doubt, but so much remains! A startling amount of the walls are wholly intact to visit! I remember taking the tram en route to the next location of the guide, looking out the window, and seeing vast swathes standing, intact, and magnificent. I was stunned, grinning ear to ear, and tears began to well in my eyes. (I didn't cry). Though I had planned to walk the length of the walls, upon discovering a major road now runs parallel beside it, the walk less appealing, and I ditched the idea. And unfortunately you can't walk on top of the walls either, even though there are stairs and guardrails atop the walls taunting you. Perhaps in the past you were permitted. Fret not however, dear reader, for if it's a view from the walls you are after, I have a strong recommendation coming up.
Chora Church
The Chora Church, or as it is also known the Kariye Mosque, was likely my favourite site in Constantinople. It could've been because it was the first major site I saw, and the holiday's novelty had yet to fade, but equally it could be because it was truly beautiful. The entry price was steep, at ~€20. (Since the hyperinflation began, many prices are set in Euros in Turkey. No sites, you will see, are very cheap.) And since 2020, as a result of Erdogan's desperate populism, the Chora church has once again become a functioning mosque, meaning women must wear headscarves to enter. Entering, however, you certainly wouldn't suspect it to be a functioning mosque. You enter, and see murals of the apostles and of Christ. Then as you continue, you see mosaics, beautiful mosaics, mosaics of Christ, of the Holy Virgin, and of biblical scenes. A mosque it most certainly did not look like. I said earlier not to mourn missing the Mosaic Museum, since here in the Chora Church the most sublime mosaics can be found. The site is a little busy, a little touristy, but not overwhelmingly so. We arrived early, which always helps when visiting attractions.
Palace of the Porphyrogenitus
Not far from the Chora Church is the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus. Who was the porphyrogenitus, I hear you clamour? In this case, nobody knows. The word 'porphyrogenitus' translates to 'born in the purple', meaning someone who is the son of an emperor. That it was so rare for a porphyrogenitus to take the throne that it often served as an emperor's epithet, is a very telling detail of Byzantine history, and a telling detail also as to why Byzantium didn't survive to the present day. But again, which porphyrogenitus this palace belonged to is a bit of a mystery. The palace was part of the Blachernae Palace complex situated on the seventh hill of Constantinople, its most North-Westerly point. The rest of the Blachernae Palace complex is lost, alas. Blachernae became the main palace of Byzantium under Emperor Alexios Komnenos I, who moved the seat of imperial authority from the Great Palace, the location of the Mosaic Museum. The reasons for the move were various: the Great Palace was falling apart, first and foremost; but also Blachernae was positioned more defensibly, an important detail since Emperor Alexios had to fortify against perfidious Latins passing through the city en route to the first Crusade. Visiting today, you'll find ruins outdoors you can walk around, and the palace itself, which you can enter. Inside is a bare stone building of three stories you can explore. Few come to visit the site, it's far off the tourist route, so you'll pretty much have the place to yourself. There are odd nooks and crannies to wander round, small staircases to new little rooms in the palace you aren't quite sure you can enter. I took a long staircase down, and found an empty room with nothing in it. No sign explaining what it might've been used for, nothing. I took a long staircase up, and found the roof. There weren't many on the roof, but my goodness was there a good view! Atop one of Constantinople's tallest hills, atop a multistory thirteenth century palace built upon that hill, you can see pretty much the whole city. You can see the Theodosian Walls trail off into the distance, you can see the Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque faintly, and you can see across the Golden Horn to the Galatia Tower. If like me you like quieter out-of-the-way spots not sardined with tourists, this is a top spot.
Aqueduct of Valens
Built in the fourth century, the Aqueduct of Valens is a true marvel of engineering. It spanned a large valley between two of Constantinople's seven hills, feeding water to the large cisterns of the city (more on that later). And this aqueduct was in use, nobly carrying water, until the late eighteenth century: that's fourteen centuries of usage. No doubt it had to be repaired and fixed several times over the period - the region is prone to earthquakes - but for a structure like that to survive this long is, I think, incredible. As you can see in the picture above, a modern highway now passes through the arches of the aqueduct, but you needn't drive to reach the site, since it is easily reachable as a pedestrian. And the area surrounding the aqueduct is all green space, all parkland, so you can walk around, take a few photos; it's really quite a pleasant location, minus the main road. That said, I had some good fortune regarding the site, a bit of a round two, if you will. The airport taxi which came to collect us drove through the arches of the Aqueduct of Valens, and I got to see the aqueduct from the road, which, I must confess, was a very cool experience.
See you in part two.
An odd choice for the first site, you may think. But, though the truthful reason I've placed it first is that I'm listing the sites in the order I saw them, the more thoughtful justification I'll present for placing the Column of Constantine first is that it is the first site. The first built, I mean. Erected by Emperor Constantine upon moving the capital from the Old Rome to the New, the column is composed of porphyry, a somewhat rare purplish granite popular with the Byzantines. A bronze case of Constantine dressed in Apollonian garb once stood upon the column, it is written, until a storm blew poor Constantine off his column and he was replaced with a cross in the twelfth century. The Ottomans were unsurprisingly unimpressed with the cross, taking it down, but leaving the column to stand. And how could they have taken it down? Not only is the column beautiful, but truly enormous too, in height and in girth. The picture can't do it justice, it towers above. The Turks call it Çemberlitaş, literally meaning 'burnt column', which I suppose is a satisfactory name given the colour.
The Theodosian Walls
Goth, Hun, Bulgar, Avar, Pecheneg, Magyar: none managed. None managed to breach the Theodosian Walls. Byzantium was in a perpetual state of war with enemies in every direction, sometimes operating in concert. To the East were Turkmen and Arabs attempting to invade Anatolian possessions; to the West were the Latins, whose friendship was so often pretend; and to the North were endless barbarian tribes from the steppe who sent hordes upon hordes of warriors to rape and pillage the riches of Byzantium. These walls, built by Theodosius II, were the integral line of defence, playing a leading role in every war they fought. Much of the walls are now lost, quarried for other building projects no doubt, but so much remains! A startling amount of the walls are wholly intact to visit! I remember taking the tram en route to the next location of the guide, looking out the window, and seeing vast swathes standing, intact, and magnificent. I was stunned, grinning ear to ear, and tears began to well in my eyes. (I didn't cry). Though I had planned to walk the length of the walls, upon discovering a major road now runs parallel beside it, the walk less appealing, and I ditched the idea. And unfortunately you can't walk on top of the walls either, even though there are stairs and guardrails atop the walls taunting you. Perhaps in the past you were permitted. Fret not however, dear reader, for if it's a view from the walls you are after, I have a strong recommendation coming up.
Chora Church
The Chora Church, or as it is also known the Kariye Mosque, was likely my favourite site in Constantinople. It could've been because it was the first major site I saw, and the holiday's novelty had yet to fade, but equally it could be because it was truly beautiful. The entry price was steep, at ~€20. (Since the hyperinflation began, many prices are set in Euros in Turkey. No sites, you will see, are very cheap.) And since 2020, as a result of Erdogan's desperate populism, the Chora church has once again become a functioning mosque, meaning women must wear headscarves to enter. Entering, however, you certainly wouldn't suspect it to be a functioning mosque. You enter, and see murals of the apostles and of Christ. Then as you continue, you see mosaics, beautiful mosaics, mosaics of Christ, of the Holy Virgin, and of biblical scenes. A mosque it most certainly did not look like. I said earlier not to mourn missing the Mosaic Museum, since here in the Chora Church the most sublime mosaics can be found. The site is a little busy, a little touristy, but not overwhelmingly so. We arrived early, which always helps when visiting attractions.
Palace of the Porphyrogenitus
Not far from the Chora Church is the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus. Who was the porphyrogenitus, I hear you clamour? In this case, nobody knows. The word 'porphyrogenitus' translates to 'born in the purple', meaning someone who is the son of an emperor. That it was so rare for a porphyrogenitus to take the throne that it often served as an emperor's epithet, is a very telling detail of Byzantine history, and a telling detail also as to why Byzantium didn't survive to the present day. But again, which porphyrogenitus this palace belonged to is a bit of a mystery. The palace was part of the Blachernae Palace complex situated on the seventh hill of Constantinople, its most North-Westerly point. The rest of the Blachernae Palace complex is lost, alas. Blachernae became the main palace of Byzantium under Emperor Alexios Komnenos I, who moved the seat of imperial authority from the Great Palace, the location of the Mosaic Museum. The reasons for the move were various: the Great Palace was falling apart, first and foremost; but also Blachernae was positioned more defensibly, an important detail since Emperor Alexios had to fortify against perfidious Latins passing through the city en route to the first Crusade. Visiting today, you'll find ruins outdoors you can walk around, and the palace itself, which you can enter. Inside is a bare stone building of three stories you can explore. Few come to visit the site, it's far off the tourist route, so you'll pretty much have the place to yourself. There are odd nooks and crannies to wander round, small staircases to new little rooms in the palace you aren't quite sure you can enter. I took a long staircase down, and found an empty room with nothing in it. No sign explaining what it might've been used for, nothing. I took a long staircase up, and found the roof. There weren't many on the roof, but my goodness was there a good view! Atop one of Constantinople's tallest hills, atop a multistory thirteenth century palace built upon that hill, you can see pretty much the whole city. You can see the Theodosian Walls trail off into the distance, you can see the Hagia Sofia and the
Built in the fourth century, the Aqueduct of Valens is a true marvel of engineering. It spanned a large valley between two of Constantinople's seven hills, feeding water to the large cisterns of the city (more on that later). And this aqueduct was in use, nobly carrying water, until the late eighteenth century: that's fourteen centuries of usage. No doubt it had to be repaired and fixed several times over the period - the region is prone to earthquakes - but for a structure like that to survive this long is, I think, incredible. As you can see in the picture above, a modern highway now passes through the arches of the aqueduct, but you needn't drive to reach the site, since it is easily reachable as a pedestrian. And the area surrounding the aqueduct is all green space, all parkland, so you can walk around, take a few photos; it's really quite a pleasant location, minus the main road. That said, I had some good fortune regarding the site, a bit of a round two, if you will. The airport taxi which came to collect us drove through the arches of the Aqueduct of Valens, and I got to see the aqueduct from the road, which, I must confess, was a very cool experience.
See you in part two.