Çinili Mosque hides its whole reason for being behind plain grey walls. From the Üsküdar street it asks for nothing: a single dome, a modest porch, cut stone. Step inside and the restraint falls away. Tiles in pale blue, turquoise and green climb the walls nearly to the dome, tulips, hyacinths and peonies looping over a white ground, among the last flowerings of classical Ottoman tile art. Small windows keep the light low, so the room glows rather than dazzles.
The tiled mihrab is deepest of all, and even the marble minber carries a little tiled cone for a roof. Kösem Sultan, who steered the Ottoman court from behind the throne for decades, had the mosque built in 1640 as the heart of a small charitable complex on the hill above the harbour. The same endowment paid for a double bath, a fountain and schools nearby. Above the busy grain of the Üsküdar shore it stays quiet, prayed in mostly by the neighbourhood that took its name, and few visitors ever reach it.