Istanbul

The voice cuts through the oppressive late-summer heat, warbling out of the megaphones, insistent. In the fading light, it reaches through the tight, winding streets of Galata with their slinking, suspicious street cats, and floats over the houses and join the other voices from the other minarets, calling out to the people of Istanbul.

This is the call to prayer, and it's sung five times a day from the mosques - startling when you're standing directly below a minaret, but it's a nice reminder to slow down in a bustling, modern city.

We got to Istanbul mid-way through the Islamic holy month of Ramadan. It's too big a city - and too big a tourist destination - to slow down much during the day, but the difference was evident every night when the local population spilled into the streets and the restaurants to socialize and break their fasts, and two-thirds of the stores were open until midnight.

But the tourist trade continued on uninhibited, so we were able to delve into Istanbul's goldmine of Byzantine and Ottoman-era landmarks with no problems at all.

In the overwhelming heat (we were sadly conditioned to Britain's cool weather) our first stop was the underground Basilica Cistern.

The Cistern - no bodies these days.

It was built in the sixth century as a massive city reservoir  70 metres by 140 metres and and 20 metres tall, walled with stone and thankfully cool. still propped up by its original carved-stone columns. It was forgotten somehow for a millennium, and rediscovered in the twentieth century. In the meantime it had been a receptacle for both garbage and pesky bodies.

Within a couple days, we'd payed a visit to the two biggest religious buildings in the city - first, the Blue Mosque and then the Aya Sofia cathedral.

The Blue Mosque, from the courtyard.

The Mosque was built in the sixteenth century. The domes rise gracefully, each reaching higher to the enormous central dome, surrounded by six slender minarets. Inside, hundreds of windows and stained glass flood the mosque with daylight, illuminating the blue wall tiles for which it was named. Underfoot is a thick, red carpet, on the walls hang gold-painted verses from the Koran. The whole structure is held up by four massive 'elephant foot' pillars.

The Aya Sofia is a thousand years older. Built in the sixth century by Byzantine Emperor Justinian, it was for centuries considered to be the greatest church in Christendom - not a small claim. After the fall of Constantinople, it was converted to a mosque, and after Turkey gained independence, it was turned into a museum.

Aya Sofia's interior, taken from the balcony

The interior of the church, essentially just one room, is the largest we'd seen in our travels - the dome arcs high over the spacious cathedral. In an impressive feat of Byzantine engineering, it is self-supported, so the sheer size has all the more impact in the absence of pillars.

The room is now a graying yellow, but in its prime, the expanse of the ceiling would have been covered in gold mosaic tiles, shimmering in the candlelight. Elaborate mosaics were created and altered right up until the building's conversion to Islam, when they were largely plastered over - biblical scenes and saints,as well as portraits of the rulers of Constantinople. Now, a selection have been recovered and partially restored.

We spent a hungover day on a Bosphorus tour - down by the piers, a horde of hopeful tour operators make their case for their boats - "Bossss-phorusbosphorusbosphrus two hours. Two hours. Good price. Sir? Hello, yes please!"

Down the straight are the upscale communities of Istanbul, Ottoman palaces and sleepy little fishing villages, all settled into the hilly sides and blue coves of the Bosphorus.

Our boat went all the way north to the mouth of the Black Sea, where we had lunch in a little tourist village before sailing back to Istanbul.

Our final day, we explored Topkapi Palace, the seat of Ottoman power for centuries. The palace buildings line the sides of four peaceful, lush courtyards, where the business of ruling an empire and family life existed in harmony.

At the end of the day, we said goodbye to the street cat family on the corner and hopped on our first night bus

S.