Once, New Rome was the centre of the world.

Ships from everywhere would make port at Constantinople, on the Bosphorus. Even the Vikings reached this place via the rivers of what today is known as Russia.

Arabs, Iberians, peoples from the Italian Peninsula sailed here through the Mare Nostrum. Palaces on the seafront, markets, bazaars, caravans, spices, treasures...

The capital of an empire which could not last forever.

That corner of Europe which tastes of the Orient, that finger of Asia licking the West. A sensual and seductive rum like an eastern dance leading to oblivion.

A wavy rhythm made of round and opulent fragrances brimming with that very special light.

We imagine wafts of gold and then myrrh, sesame, paprika and just-toasted dried fruits.

An aphrodisiac to the mouth, entreating us to let go of our inhibitions and to lose ourselves in one of Istanbul’s lanes as we enjoy our own company.

If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.
Alphonse De Lamartine