Dolmabahçe Palace runs for more than half a kilometre of pale stone along the Bosphorus, and inside it restraint disappears. Ceilings carry fourteen tons of gold leaf. A double staircase climbs on balusters of cut Baccarat crystal under a glass skylight. The domed Ceremonial Hall hangs one of the largest chandeliers in the world, and you walk hall after hall past Hereke silk carpets before reaching a plain bedroom where a clock stands stopped at five past nine.
Sultan Abdülmecid commissioned the palace in the 1840s to replace Topkapı, whose austere courtyards had begun to look provincial beside the palaces of Europe. The Balyan architects gave him Baroque, Rococo and Neoclassical rooms behind a single facade, on ground whose name means filled-in garden, after the shallow bay reclaimed centuries earlier to hold it. The cost is counted among the reasons the Ottoman treasury ran dry. It is a museum now, kept furnished much as the last sultans left it, but it is not walked as one route. The state wing and the harem are entered separately, and the room where Atatürk died lies on the harem side.