The Allure of the Forgotten

Istanbul, a city where the whispers of history echo through its cobblestone streets, called to me with a promise of forgotten tales and hidden corners. My journey to Beykoz, to explore the film sets of “Resurrection Ertugrul,” was not just a quest to witness the grandeur of cinematic artistry but a deeper dive into the layers of history that these sets represent. As an urban explorer, I am drawn to the decaying remnants of the past, and here, amidst the sprawling sets, I found a new kind of decay—one that is meticulously crafted to tell stories of empires long gone.

The drive to Riva village, passing by the Bosphorus Bridge, was a journey through time itself. The bridge, a symbol of connection between continents, mirrored the connection between the past and present that I was about to experience. The anticipation built as we approached the Bozdağ Film platosu, a place where the Selcuks and Ottomans come alive once more.

A World Reconstructed

Stepping onto the film set was like stepping into a time machine. The air was thick with the scent of history, and the structures, though newly built, carried the weight of centuries. The Turkish Oba, Sogut, and Byzantine Castle stood as testaments to the architectural prowess of the eras they represented. Each corner of the set was a carefully crafted illusion, a reminder of the power of storytelling and the art of reconstruction.

As I wandered through the set, I couldn’t help but draw parallels to my explorations of Soviet-era cities. The decay I am accustomed to is one of neglect and abandonment, yet here, the decay was intentional, a backdrop for tales of heroism and conquest. The attention to detail was astounding, from the intricate designs of the Kayı Obası to the imposing presence of Inegol Castle. It was a world meticulously reconstructed, yet it felt as real as the crumbling facades of the cities I have explored.

Echoes of the Past

The tour was more than just a visual feast; it was an educational journey into the lives and cultures of the Selcuks and Ottomans. Our guide, a passionate storyteller, wove tales of Ertugrul Ghazi and Osman Ghazi, bringing to life the legends that have shaped Turkish history. The stories resonated with me, much like the untold stories I uncover in the forgotten corners of Eastern Europe.

As the day drew to a close, I found myself reflecting on the parallels between my usual explorations and this unique experience. The film sets, though not decaying in the traditional sense, offered a glimpse into a world that once was, much like the Soviet-era remnants I am so familiar with. It was a reminder that history, whether preserved in stone or recreated in wood and plaster, holds a power that transcends time.

The drive back to Istanbul was a quiet one, the sun setting over the Bosphorus casting long shadows over the city. I left Beykoz with a renewed appreciation for the art of storytelling and the allure of the forgotten, eager to continue my journey through the hidden gems of the world.