Fatih Mosque crowns the fourth hill of the old city and anchors a working religious quarter rather than a tourist circuit. You climb toward a wide walled courtyard with a shaded central fountain, then step into a bright interior of grey stone and stencilled arches. Behind the mosque lies the tomb of Mehmed the Conqueror himself, its cloth-draped cenotaph rarely without visitors. Around it the streets keep an older rhythm: Quran schools, prayer-bead and skullcap sellers, and a street market a few lanes away on Wednesdays.
Mehmed raised the first mosque here in 1470, the first great imperial complex built after the Byzantine capital became Ottoman, on the ruins of the Church of the Holy Apostles, where Byzantine emperors had been buried. Around it spread the Sahn-ı Seman, the colleges every Ottoman scholar hoped to reach. The earthquake of 1766 shattered that building, and what stands now is the rebuild of the following years, on a wholly different plan. Come at prayer time and the whole hill leans toward the same call.