The Hagia Sophia
Built between 532 and 537, the Hagia Sophia is considered the epitome of Byzantine architecture and art and is said to have “changed the history of architecture”. It was the principal church of the Byzantine Empire in its capital, Constantinople (later Istanbul), and a mosque after the Ottoman Empire conquered the city in 1453.
This site has endured significant damage from earthquakes, fires, and human activity. Major collapses of its dome occurred in 558 and 14th-century earthquakes, with constant structural threats from its location on a fault line. The 1999 Earthquake did not cause permanent damage but highlighted ongoing vulnerabilities, with sensors revealing significant movement in the main arches and Southwest Pier. A massive, long-term restoration effort is currently underway to increase the building’s earthquake resistance. As of April 2026, the landmark restoration of the Hagia Sophia has no official completion date and is expected to be a long-term project. The Hagia Sophia has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1985.
The image above shows the cenotaph (memorial marker) associated with Enrico Dandolo and is displayed in the upper gallery of the Hagia Sophia. Dandolo was the 41st Doge of Venice and a leading figure in the Fourth Crusade, which resulted in the sack of Constantinople in 1204. He was in his nineties and blind at the time of the campaign, and died in Constantinople in 1205, where he was reportedly buried inside the building. The marker seen today is not the original medieval tomb, but a 19th-century replacement commissioned during a period when Western interest in the site led to commemorative restorations. The original burial location is believed to have been destroyed or lost following the Ottoman conquest and later alterations to the structure, so the stone functions as a symbolic marker rather than a verified tomb. Claims occasionally circulate about modern imaging or documentaries suggesting possible human remains beneath the marker and attempts to link them specifically to Dandolo. These reports remain unverified and are not supported by any broadly accepted archaeological identification. As such, while the association between Dandolo and the site is historically grounded, the exact location and condition of his remains remain uncertain.
The image shows the front and back of the famous Marble Door located in the upper south gallery of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey. This Byzantine-era door is sometimes referred to as the “Gate of Heaven and Hell” and historically served as a threshold separating the public areas from the council chambers. Carved from a single block of white marble, it is richly decorated with intricate geometric patterns on one side, while the reverse features a more restrained design marked by simple carved crosses.
Among the more unexpected traces of human presence in Hagia Sophia is a piece of Viking-age graffiti etched into a marble balustrade in the upper gallery, believed to date to the 9th century. The inscription is attributed to a member of the Varangian Guard – an elite unit of Norse warriors who served as personal bodyguards to the Byzantine emperors within the Byzantine imperial system. Carved in runes and now protected beneath plexiglass to prevent further erosion, the inscription has been partially worn away over more than a millennium. What remains legible is often interpreted as including the name “Halfdan,” with the surviving characters fragmentary but suggestive enough to fuel long-standing fascination. In popular interpretation, it is read as a simple declaration of presence – “Halfdan was here” – a quiet, almost intimate assertion of identity within one of the most monumental sacred spaces of the medieval world. The graffiti sits in the southern gallery, a subtle but compelling reminder of the cosmopolitan reach of Byzantium, where Norse mercenaries, imperial ceremony, and Christian sacred space once intersected under the vast dome of Hagia Sophia.
The 12th-century mosaic of the Virgin and Child with Emperor John II Komnenos and Empress Irene, located in the south gallery of the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, is one of the most celebrated examples of late Byzantine imperial art, dated to around 1122 AD. It shows the Virgin Mary enthroned with the Christ Child on her lap, flanked by Emperor John II Komnenos and Empress Irene (John II Komnenos and Irene of Hungary). Both rulers are depicted in a posture of humility, offering gifts to Christ, a visual expression of devotion and imperial legitimacy. The composition reflects a key Byzantine idea: that earthly authority derives its legitimacy through divine sanction, with the emperor and empress shown not as autonomous rulers, but as supplicants before the heavenly order. The mosaic is also notable for its refined craftsmanship and subtle emotional tone, particularly in the individualized features of the imperial figures, which mark a shift toward greater naturalism in Komnenian-era Byzantine art.
The Hagia Sophia Ablution Fountain (şadırvan) is an elegant Ottoman-era structure situated in the outer courtyard of the Hagia Sophia Grand Mosque. Built for ritual purification before prayer, it was traditionally used for washing the hands, face, and feet. With its ornate detailing and balanced proportions, the fountain reflects classical Islamic architectural aesthetics and adds an Ottoman layer to the site’s rich historical heritage.
A personal observation: I found wearing a headscarf (mandatory) – covering my hair and partially my face – unexpectedly oppressive and uncomfortably hot. Perhaps that reaction was partly psychological, but either way, it wasn’t a pleasant experience. That said, I respect local customs, and ultimately there is no choice: no scarf, no entry. Visitors need to decide for themselves where they stand but should be aware of what’s required.
SIDEBAR:
An aside, and my personal opinion, which doesn’t reflect the views of Cross Country Insurance Company:
What was most interesting was that high on the dome, was a mosaic panel of Mother Mary and Infant Jesus covered by a cloth. Initially, I didn’t understand…
Originally constructed between 532 and 537 under the Byzantine Emperor Justinian I, the Hagia Sophia was conceived as a grand Greek Orthodox cathedral and stood at the centre of Eastern Christianity for nearly a millennium. Following the Ottoman conquest in 1453, it was converted into a mosque, and in 1934/35, under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, it became a museum – arguably an elegant compromise that honoured its layered past. On 10 July 2020, that balance shifted once more when it was formally reconverted into a mosque. So, a Christian church for nearly a thousand years, a mosque for almost five centuries, a museum for 85 years – and now, once again, a mosque. Few buildings embody the shifting tides of history quite like the Hagia Sophia.
At the time of its reconversion in July 2020, reports – including one by Reuters – noted that Christian imagery, such as depictions of Mary and Jesus, would be concealed during Muslim prayer times but remain visible at other times. However, during our visit – well outside prayer hours/days – these mosaics were still covered, which was disappointing.
Entry now costs close to R500, which is not insignificant for many South Africans. I’m not suggesting that paying an entrance fee grants unrestricted access to every part of a religious building. However, sites of such profound historical and cultural importance – particularly those recognised by UNESCO – arguably belong, in some sense, to all humanity. Within reasonable limits that protect the site, one might hope for broader access, rather than restrictions based solely on religious identity.
As of March 2024, non-Muslim visitors are no longer permitted on the ground floor of the mosque. Instead, they enter from the rear and are directed to the upper galleries, which do offer remarkable views of the interior and its famed mosaics – but still removed from the building’s historic heart.
The ground floor holds the primary, historic, and most famous features of the building. Beyond the Wishing Column, other attractions on the ground floor include the historic Emperor’s Door; the Omphalion or Navel of the World (a circular, 5.6-meter diameter area composed of 30 interlocking marble circles of different colours – the precise spot where Byzantine emperors were crowned); the Lustration Urns or Marble Jars (two massive Hellenistic-era marble jars, each capable of holding over 1,200 litres, brought from Pergamon in the 16th century and used for ritual ablutions); the Imperial Gate or Nice Door (a seven-meter high bronze-plated door located in the inner narthex, believed to date back to the 2nd century BC and traditionally used only by the Emperor); the Apse Mosaic or Virgin and Child (a 9th-century mosaic located in the semi-dome of the apse, depicting the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus – one of the oldest surviving mosaics on the ground floor); and the Imperial Gate Mosaic (situated above the Imperial Gate, this 10th-century mosaic features Emperor Leo VI prostrating before Christ Pantocrator). None of these are Muslim relics.
One of the most intriguing features of Hagia Sophia is the above-mentioned Wishing Column (also known as the Sweating or Weeping Column) a bronze-clad pillar tucked into the northwest corner of the nave. Said to possess healing powers, it has long drawn those seeking both solace and miracles. I had first encountered it in a documentary and was especially eager to see it for myself, but that ambition went unfulfilled as access to the ground floor is now exclusively reserved for Muslim worshippers. Tradition holds that visitors place a thumb into a small, worn hollow in the column and rotate it; if the skin emerges damp, a wish may be granted or an ailment cured. The faint moisture that seeps from the stone has inspired centuries of legend – some attribute it to the tears of the Virgin Mary, others to the blessing of Saint Gregory the Wonderworker, believed to have imbued the column with miraculous properties. Another enduring tale recounts how Justinian I himself found relief from a severe headache by resting his head against it. Part relic, part ritual, the column endures as a quiet focal point of belief – its power residing as much in the stories it carries as in the cool, damp stone itself.
The current lack of access to the ground floor of Hagia Sophia feels like a rather unfortunate constraint, as this level contains many of the structure’s most significant and storied features. Given its layered history spanning 1500 years, the building stands among the most important historical monuments in the world, and one could argue that this alone justifies broader public access…
Knowing what I know now, would I visit the attraction again? I believe so. As much as I am opposed to some of the policies, it truly is magnificent. The rules, whilst annoying, don’t detract from the history. To stand within a building that has withstood the test of time, a changing world over a millennium and a half, is not something one gets to experience every day!
Jacqui Ikin & The Cross Country Team
