1936 On the Continent

of youth against a background divinely blue interspersed with the dark green of the many pines.
    Cooler yet but not so active is the Bosphorus, once undoubtedly the most lovely spot in the world. Along its shores white
yalis
, built overhanging the water, remind us of days forever gone when proud pashas sailed along in their slender caiques and slim, mysterious girls walked silently along the Sweet Waters of Asia, their oval faces covered with a veil. The Bosphorus is beautiful; beautiful and rather sad. All around us lie the broken remnants of a past once fraught with feasting and moonlight and the tears of sad, captive women.
    Men of all nations, of all times, and of all creeds have struggled and died for the possession of Istanbul becauseof its important position, its ideal climate, and its unusual beauty. And, having in turn struggled and won, had but one aim, namely to make the city of Istanbul the most beautiful spot on the earth. And so it is indeed. One look at Istanbul with its domes and minarets outlined against a sunset which, in itself, is different from all other sunsets, will convince the visitor standing on the shores of Harem of this fact. Or, for that matter, the tourist may stand on the parapets of Selimiye, or at Eyub on the Golden Horn, or on top of Chamlidja. Almost any spot will do. The only thing essential is that the visitor should come and view the surroundings for himself for no description, no matter how detailed, can be adequate where brush and words alike are bound to fail. To try to portray the unusual beauty of Istanbul would be as useless as trying to describe the delicate scent and the colourful charm of a rose to one who has never seen or smelled such a flower.
    As regards the usual amenities—hotels, restaurants, etc.—you will have gathered from what has been said about the life of Istanbul that the city has the usual modern establishments, ranging from the luxury to the medium class. Any travel agency in Istanbul itself, or in London, will advise you on the subject.
Angora
    But although Istanbul is the loveliest city in Turkey, Angora, the capital, is well worth a visit. You can reach it by the express from Haydar Pasha. At Angora, too, we will find classic statues and an ancient temple and the remnants of an old castle perched high above the town. But these old monuments are of little importance when compared to the work that is going on day and night everywhere. Here the foundations of a new nation are being laid, a new civilisation adapted to the people and the climate is being created. Here is being planned the education of the peasant and urban masses, the network of railways which will soon be completed, the many modern factories. Here, again, we find institutions of higher learning, provided with the most up-to-date equipment and methods, where young girls and earnest, bright-eyed boys are taught the requirements of the nation which soon they will inherit. Of the greatest interest to the sociologistand the educator are the Ghazi and the agricultural institutes, and the Ismet Pasha Institute for Women. For those who desire to see a new civilisation, a new country, a new city in the process of creation, a visit to Angora is imperative.
    There are many other places you will enjoy visiting. You can take the ferry at Galata and sail over the blue sea of Marmora to the opposite shore of the Gulf of Izmit, and thence travel by bus over a fine asphalt road to Yalova, the Bath of Byzantine days. It is an entirely novel sensation to enter the old building, intact in spite of the passing years, and to take a bath in the very same pond where, in days gone by, countless Byzantine emperors and their wives sported and laughed and listened to poetry or music as they washed away their ills in the warm mineral water which gushes from the earth.
Brussa
    But 40 miles removed from Yalova is Brussa, that ancient capital of the Ottoman Turks, green, fertile, overshadowed by the majesty of Ulu Dag, once Mount Olympus. We drive up the mountain and, from our point of vantage, view the wide expanse beneath our feet which stretches until it meets the dreamy beauty of a purple sea, and through the distance, dim and mist-wrapped, we behold the Green Mosque and Nicaea and the pale islands which seem devoid of all support. Here again, as in a dream, we see the glint of armour against an azure blue, hear the battle cry of Crusader and Turk and the savage crash of steel on steel. Having looked we may, if