Chapter 5 - Stone Walls and Shifting HorizonsI arrived in Sinop with salt in my hair and curiosity in my bones. The
city, perched on a peninsula that juts into the Black Sea, feels like a
forgotten jewel—its cobbled streets and ancient walls whispering
stories of empires past.
My first stop was the Sinop Castle and Fortress, its origins stretching
back to the 8th century BCE. Built by Miletian settlers, expanded by
Romans, Byzantines, Seljuqs, and Ottomans, the fortress stood as a
palimpsest of power. From its ramparts, I gazed over the harbour,
imagining the sails of merchant ships and the clang of armour.
Within the castle walls, I stepped into the Sinop Cezaevi—once one of
Turkey’s most notorious prisons, now a museum of shadows. The
cells echoed with silence, their stories etched into stone.
I tried to visit the Balatlar Church, said to house relics of early
Christian saints, but it was under renovation. Still, the city offered its
charms freely: men chatting on corners, vendors hawking fruit and
nuts, the rhythm of daily life unfolding against a backdrop of
antiquity.
Sinop held me for two days. I wandered, I lingered, I let the city seep
into me. But time pressed on, and I finally boarded the night bus to
Istanbul.