The Aqueduct of Valens — Bozdoğan Kemeri on Istanbul street signs — strides across a busy multi-lane boulevard in the middle of the city, cars streaming through arches where water once ran overhead. Two tiers of pale limestone arches leap the saddle between two of the old city's hills. Stand beneath it and the scale arrives slowly: the tallest arches rise the height of a ten-storey building, their cut stone seamed with centuries of rougher repairs. Look up through the openings and the two levels frame slices of sky, minarets and the rooftops of Fatih pressing close on both sides.
Valens completed the span in the 370s as the showpiece of a water line that reached springs deep in the forests of Thrace, threading across valleys and under hills to the cisterns of the capital. Byzantine and then Ottoman engineers kept the water moving long after Rome fell, and the arches stayed in service for well over a millennium. Traffic fills the valley with noise now, yet the structure keeps its own quiet.