Feature: The Threads Connecting Wishes, Wine, and Turkish History

I momentarily close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the cooling breeze on my over-heated face. Taking a deep breath, I turn my gaze over the blue water of the Sea of Marmara. From this vantage point at the top of Yüceptepe, the highest point atop Büyükada, the largest of the Princes Islands in the Sea of Marmara, I can see most of the island below and the sea stretched out beyond its shores. I am exhausted and out of breath, but my thread didn’t break, so my wish to Aya Yorgi should come true.

View over Sea of Marmara from Aya Yorgi - photo by Andrea Lemieux

The moment of contemplative silence is broken by the clamor of the scores of people around me. I take one more deep breath before turning my back on the view and steep path carpeted with loose embroidery thread to plunge back into the crowd toward the monastery of Hagios Georgios Koudonas.

A Pilgrimage of Wishes

Built in 1751, the Monastery of Hagios Georgios Koudonas (Aya Yorgi) is an important part of Büyükada's spiritual and cultural heritage. One of the most recognizable structures on the island, it draws thousands of visitors every year.

Legend says that Saint George appeared to people in ‘true need’ on this site. Now, every April 23rd, the feast day of Saint George, hundreds—if not thousands—of pilgrims flock to the monastery to make a wish.

The path to the church is steep, a test both physical and spiritual. The way is made even more difficult by the pilgrim tradition. While people make the journey throughout the year, the feast day is a special occasion. Pilgrims buy colorful embroidery thread and charms that represent their wish. These are tied near the base of the hill, to a tree, bench leg, or a sturdy plant.

Tradition dictates that you journey up in silence, contemplating your wish, feeding the thread along behind you. If you can make it to the top and tie off your string without it breaking, your wish will come true within the year. A beautiful custom practiced by people from all faith backgrounds: Christians, Muslims, and even the nonreligious, it makes the monastery of Aya Yorgi stand out as a special place where people of different faiths come together.

Of course you need his blessing to get back down in one piece. All those threads covering the trail create a treacherous and slippery carpet that make the return journey as difficult as the ascent.

The Islands’ Greek Heritage

The Princes Islands or, simply Adalar (islands) in Turkish, are a group of islands in the Sea of Marmara that are part of Istanbul. They take their English name from the moniker the islands earned under the Byzantines: Prinkipo. Byzantine rulers founded churches and monasteries across the islands, but the Prinkipo (prince in Greek) also became a dumping ground for their enemies. Largely princes (thus the name), former empresses, and generally anyone who could make trouble for the current emperor.

Under Ottoman rule, Büyükada and the other Princes Islands were where wealthy Greek and Armenian families built their summer homes. While the Greek community on the various islands today is miniscule, the islands retain a sense of their former Greekness. Over the centuries, the churches and monasteries created a culture and a network, which continues to sustain the Greek speakers on the island. Many of the old summer home köşkler (mansions) still stand as do businesses founded by the islands’ Greek population.

Religions and Wine in Turkey

From pre-history to today, Turkey has never been homogenous. The breadth of cultures, languages, and religions that have passed through and shaped the country is stunning. Many of those cultures, from pre-history to the modern Republic, contributed to the evolution of wine.

One such group was the Byzantine Empire. The advancement of wine was largely thanks to Constantine the Great’s adoption of Christianity as the empire’s official religion. The result was more than a simple end to persecution. It meant the steady expansion of Christianity. More churches, more monasteries, and masses required more vineyards. Wine played a central role in Christian religious rites, and supplies were needed.

Constantine, and subsequent rulers, donated land and funding to expand monastery vineyards and wine production to meet that need. Ultimately, greater production meant greater availability, leading wine to become the drink du jour for the ruling class and regular people alike.

Under the Ottoman Empire, wine production (and alcohol generally) ebbed and flowed, depending on the piety of the Sultan. But the Turkish brand of Islam is and always has been more practical, and thus less stringent. And so making and drinking alcohol was always legal (and importantly, taxable), among the Empire's non-Muslim communities. At the time, that would mostly have meant the Greeks and Armenians.

While wine (and alcohol in general) was restricted, it had far-reaching implications for the overall economy of the time. Grapes were one of the largest agricultural crops across the country. Many small vineyards were tended by the faithful of Islam who sold their grapes to winemakers.

Connected by Vines

Standing on the hill at Aya Yorgi, it is hard not to think about how many hands have shaped this place. The islands themselves are layered with centuries of arrivals and departures: exiled Byzantine royalty, Ottoman elites, Greek and Armenian merchants, modern Istanbulites escaping the city for the day.

Wine in Turkey has followed much the same path.

The Turkish word for vineyard is bağ (baah). But bağ also means ‘connection.’ It is one of the major aspects that has connected people throughout Turkish history: ancient civilizations, mythical Greek kings, Byzantine monks, Armenian and Greek winemakers, Muslim farmers, all the way to modern Turkish producers. At every stage, different communities added their own thread to the story.

Even today, in a country where the majority of the population is Muslim, wine persists; not as a contradiction, but as a reminder of the country’s deep, pluralistic past. The colorful threads snaking up the path to the monastery shimmer in the sunlight as pilgrims slowly make their way back toward town. Some came to pray, others simply to hope. Some will return to churches, others to mosques, others to neither.

But like the threads on the path, and like the long history of wine in this land, their stories remain intertwined.

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 Andrea Lemieux is an international wine expert with particular expertise in Turkish Wine. She is the author of The Essential Guide to Turkish Wine, the world's only comprehensive English language book on Turkish wine. She is also the author of The Quick and Dirty Guide to Greek Wine and the founder of The Quirky Cork blog which is dedicated largely to Turkish wine.