This series is a travelogue of a Pakistani girl, AIZA AZAM, who traveled to Turkey, documenting what she saw, heard and felt along the way. From historical sites and local cuisine to interactions with the people of each city, you will be transported through her memories to the country.
View of the Mevlana Museum in Konya and Mevlana Square
The next morning, after deciding to leave Bursa a day earlier, I headed to the bus station and bought a ticket to Konya. As I know, intercity bus travel in Turkey is both safe and comfortable. The journey to Konya takes about seven hours, but the gorgeous scenery along the way makes time fly by. From rolling green mountains and hills to vast pastures and golden wheat fields, clouds drift along seemingly endless horizons.
If you're planning a trip by public transport, the Obilet website is definitely a lifesaver. All you have to do is enter your travel dates and it will list the different bus companies operating on that route, travel times and durations, available seats, and even suggest which side of the bus will face the sun during your trip.
When I arrived at my hotel in Konya, it was already sunset and I had plenty of time to go outside for a quick meal before the curfew. It was a delicious stew of beans, perfect condiments, and plenty of hot bread. After eating, I hurried back to my room and locked in my plans for the next day.
Sufis, Saints and Sultans
When you think of Konya, you think of Jalaladdin Mohammad Balkhi, who is more known as Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi. He was a 13th-century Islamic scholar and jurist with a high reputation in the region, the son of Bahauddin Walad, and was himself a brilliant theologian and jurist. Rumi, who is revered around the world today as a Sufi mystic and poet, evolved during his encounter with the wandering ascetic Shams Tabrizi.
The relationship between these two people is a collision of two intellects who together seek higher meaning and beauty in the divine. However, the strength of the spiritual connection between them came as a shock to Rumi's family. When Shams disappears without a trace in one night (his fate was not determined until the 20th century), Rumi feels very sad. This loss and the desire that arises from it will create his most prolific and beautiful poetic works.
Aziziye Mosque in Konya, Turkey
The next morning, I pondered this question as I walked 10 minutes to the Rumi Mausoleum, located within the Mevlana Museum complex. At the entrance there is an L-shaped hall with a huge tombstone in the center of the hall. The green brocade covering it is embroidered with verses from the Quran, and it is under the mausoleum's distinctive green dome. Next to it is the tombstone of Rumi's father, a beautifully carved Seljuk craft structure twice as tall as Rumi's tombstone. Flanked by coffins of family members and prominent members of the Mevlevi sect.
The atmosphere inside the mausoleum is both lively and calm. You'll hear the devout whispers of Rumi's admirers, interspersed with the soft sobs of a fierce believer. It was a short visit but quite impressive. You can feel what Mevlana means to different people and how deeply each of them feels for him.
After that, I walked towards the Selimiye Mosque, which sits in the huge square next to the museum. Built in the second half of the 16th century and commissioned by Sultan Selim II, it is an impressive representation of Ottoman architecture. Elegant arches float above the porch and main entrance, leading to a large, beautifully furnished interior.
Konya is also famous for the original Sema, a traditional religious ritual performed by a rotating ascetic. After learning that there was an evening performance a week at the Mevlane Cultural Centre, I decided to set out for it in the hope of determining whether the pandemic had affected the normal schedule. From the Mevrana Museum, it is about a 20-minute walk, but the whole road is not shaded. I struggled to find this, and I had nothing to fend off very bright sunlight other than sunglasses. Still, I walked firmly because I firmly believed that the only way to see a city in perspective is to walk through it on foot, or hop on a bus and let it take you anywhere. Unfortunately, when I finally arrived at the building, I was told that no shows had been scheduled for more than a year due to the pandemic. I regret this miss.
Now, since I didn't see the bus, I started my footsteps again, but I chose to cross a small alley instead of the main road. This detour gave me an interesting look at life in the old city. Lunch was a large biscuit I bought at a bakery, and I moved on, looking for what is said to be the grave of Shams Tablich.
Tomb of Shams Tablić
I finally found it in a residential area, in a corner of a small park. It consists of a single tombstone in a normal-sized, largely empty hall. This humble structure seems to be out of harmony with his own historical reputation. I wonder if the monument's relative obscurity reflects the reaction of the city where Rumi lives to his controversial relationship with Shams.
After paying tribute to the famous dervishe, I returned to the nearby hotel to freshen up and head to the city's famous Alaeddin Hill Park. My plan was to visit two other monuments on the way, namely the Sırçalı Religious School and the Ince Minareli Religious School. But unfortunately, both places are closed. Still, the park is a good choice. Walking along the sidewalks of this huge green strip, I came to the Alaeddin Mosque at the other end. Below the mosque is a large terrace café with comfortable chairs and tables. It is also located on one of the main roads of the city and has two flights of stairs. It was a lovely place to rest on a warm afternoon. I sat there for a while, refreshed with a cold drink, the gentle breeze whistling through the trees, looking at the vibrant streets below.
As it got closer and closer to sunset, I walked down in the direction of the Aziziye Mosque, an ornate building that quickly became my favorite in the city.
Located near the Great Bazaar of Konya, this mosque was built at the end of the 17th century. I stumbled upon it the night before when I was out to dinner and was struck by its unusual architectural style. It blends Baroque style with traditional Ottoman aesthetics, with towering windows on all sides where sunlight shines through during the day. At night, the cut stone has a medieval texture to the exterior.
I did evening prayers here and then went to a traditional restaurant nearby. Dinner includes lentil soup, fırın kebap (a Konya specialty that is served on top of soft pete bread with tender lamb pieces) and a cold Ayran (yogurt drink). It was a pleasant walk and I spent the night here.
Came to Mevlana again and had a lunch with a view
The next day was Friday. At noon I checked out of the hotel, left my luggage at the front desk and headed to the Mevrana Museum again. This time, I stood in a corner opposite the grave, reading Rumi's poems on my phone, wondering what made everyone around me come to worship the residence of the great mystic.
When the cry for Friday prayers rang out, I headed to the Selimiye Mosque. Despite their size, mosques are overcrowded, at least in women's quarters. After the prayer, due to the time, I decided to have a leisurely lunch at the Mevlevi Sofrası. To get there, you can walk to the end of the square opposite the main entrance of the mosque and turn right. Advertised for this restaurant by a colourful sign on the wall, it is located on the terrace with a panoramic view of the Mevrana Museum and the Selimiye Mosque. As I climbed the stairs, I didn't expect that I would be eating one of my most cherished meals in Turkey.
The first is bamya çorbası, a heavenly soup based on spicy tomatoes with small okra and meat sauce. I didn't know I could do such a wonderful thing with okra! Next, on the recommendation of the waiter, I ate Konya karışık. It is a characteristic Konya pete (flat bread) with minced meat, tomatoes, peppers and cheese. It was served on a steaming table, and melted butter dripped from the sides of the perfectly crispy bottom. The most wonderful part, the dessert, is a revelation to oneself, both in terms of expression and taste. A ring of the most delicate filo puff pastry is filled with rich cream and sprinkled with crushed walnuts. The velvety interior is perfectly balanced with the crispy exterior, and it's not too sweet.
Konya mixed
As I sat there eating my meal, looking from above at the people in the square below, I was thinking, a conservative chapel juxtaposed with a revered Sufi shrine. The whole experience of those two hours is definitely a poem, a harmonious combination of perfect surroundings, mild weather and delicious food.
farewell
Before leaving, I thanked the staff for their hospitality and then went to the Azizye Mosque for evening prayers.
After the prayer, I bought some refreshments at a nearby bakery and prepared for the next leg of the journey that evening. At the hotel, I picked up my luggage and headed straight for the bus station, where I bought my ticket. I didn't find any flight options that suited my itinerary, so I was faced with the prospect of an overnight journey of more than 11 hours. But I'm sure I can handle it, and I guess I'll spend most of my time sleeping anyway.
In my next travel diary, see how I spent my journey on the bus and traveled to the southern ancient city of Mardin.
(To be continued)