The little girl on the front on the right is me, Betty Whittall, later McKernan. The photo was the 60th wedding anniversary (married 1887, photo is from 28 April 1947, Istanbul) of her great-grandparents, Frederick Edwin and Adelaide (known in the family as Lily, nee La Fontaine) Whittall and it shows a number of their children, their wives, their children’s children and wives, and Pat Binns and Betty Whittall, who were the great-grand-daughters.

The giant greenhouse in the background was just that - some beautiful plants were planted in there. I also remember it being desperately hot and humid. The picture was taken in the garden of my great grandfather’s house (Frederick Edwin Whittall) in Moda, Asian side of Istanbul. Unfortunately the beautiful wooden house was eventually bulldozed and now there are flats built there. The house was basically opposite the tennis club, if you ever go there and it faced the sea. The property ran from the main road into Moda from Kadikoy and right down to the sea. There used to be two lodges at the top and on either side of some enormous green metal gates. Between these lodges were wonderful marble steps leading down to a large open area with lots of plants grown in circles within circles, then that lead to a path down to the main house. On each side of this path was the vegetable garden and the rose garden! There was then another large gravelled space before the house which had really tall pine trees from which pine nuts came down and there was seating there which was regularly used. In fact, I remember as a very young child climbing onto my great grandfather’s knee and asking him if I could sniff his beard, because his goatee smelled of bay rum and it was wonderful! In fact, in the photo Grandpa Edwin as he was known to me, did not have a goatee - that only appeared after Granny Lily had died! And strangely, my grandfather, James Frederick, grew a goatee after Granny Mary died! The women were strong characters and did not like bearded men, apparently.

At the time of writing (September 2010), the last time I visited Moda was in October 2008 when I was there with my sister (Jennifer Storm), our husbands (Paul McKernan and Richard Storm) and one of their twin daughters (Stephanie).

We took the tram from Kadiköy to Mühürdar where we alighted and walked towards Moda. After a while this road bends to the left and a road goes off to the right. At the junction of the main road and the road going off to the right was the entrance to the property owned by my great grandfather, Frederick Edwin Whittall. The property extended from that junction right down to the sea. My memories of the property could easily be wrong as Grandpa Edwin died in 1953, and I was aged just 8½ at the time.

The entrance to the property was through very large iron doors, painted green. They must have been about 4 – 5 metres high and 2½ - 3 metres wide. On the inside of the property and to each side of these doors were two stone buildings. The one on the left of the gates was originally the stables and coach house and had been converted into very adequate and comfortable living accommodation and the one on the right was occupied by Herakli and his family. Herakli was Greek and looked after the maintenance of the property.

Once inside the green gates, across a little bit of gravel, there was a beautiful marble staircase leading to the lower level of the garden. On each side of the stairs was a curved slope of a fairly steep gradient (I assume for carriages). The lower level of the garden was a large, square area, the centre of which had two or three concentric circles planted with a variety of enormous phormiums. The perimeter of this area had lots of trees and shaded areas. There was also a rather more recently constructed “garage” on one side of which was a magnificent magnolia tree. Directly across from the magnolia, over the concentric circles and beside the wall separating the property from its neighbours, was a large medlar tree (muşmula). My Mother dreaded my sister and me eating the fruit – invariably we got stomach upsets!

Opposite the marble stairs and on the other side of the concentric circles was a path way which led down to the house. On the left of the pathway, and behind a hedge over which one could see, even as a small child, was the vegetable garden and on the right, again, behind a low hedge, was the rose garden. There may have been other decorative plants there as well, but I was oblivious to them at the time.

The end of that path was marked by a huge tree, I believe a variety of pine, under which was seating. I have a vague recollection of me as a very young child approaching my great grandfather and asking him if I might sniff his beard: he used bay rum on it which had a most attractive fragrance!

I cannot remember what was to the left of that seating area under the tree, but to the right was a low lying glass house where all the cuttings were taken and plants for the garden propagated. In its vicinity was a pine tree, the black nuts of which would be bashed between two stones by us children and the kernels devoured. One young cousin was remembered by my Mother describing the process as “Tak, tak” (the sound of the bashing) “mum mum” (the sound of munching). Beside that was a very large greenhouse where the exotic plants were kept. This was a much taller building and I seem to recall had green and decorative glass panes.

Just beyond the seating area, heading towards to sea, was the house. Pictures of this white painted wooden house are scarce now, but a few photos survive. It was enormous, and I have heard it said that it had 33 rooms. To enter, one went up one of two marble staircases on each side of a marbled area which lead to the front door. The hall, which ran the length of the house, doubled up as the sitting room, with wonderful tapestries, elegant furniture and a grand piano. The draught from the entrance door was stopped by a four panel screen.

On the left of the entrance was Grandpa Edwin’s study, with leather furniture and wood panelled walls. I remember it had a very distinctive smell – leather, bay rum and possibly pipe tobacco, although I cannot be sure of this last item. Next to that, still on the left, was a door to a corridor: this lead down to the kitchens, laundry and servants’ quarters and also upstairs to the bedrooms. Beyond that and running the length of the remainder of the hall, still on the left was the dining room which had an enormous table, which would seat a vast number of people (I cannot guarantee it, but at least 24). On the walls hung all the portraits of the ancestors. The window overlooked another marbled area, rather like the front of the house and from there one could see the sea at the end of the garden.

Opposite the dining room, was what was known as the “Turkish sitting room”, which had a “mangal” in the centre and the furnishings were thick cushions. Next door to that was a smaller room, in which I believe suitors to Grandpa Edwin’s daughters asked him for their hands! And beyond that, and now opposite Grandpa Edwin’s study, was the billiard room with a glorious green baize billiard table in the middle.

I am unable to describe the floor above at the time that my great grandparents were alive, but I do remember it as having the same layout as downstairs, although the rooms were smaller and more numerous. Whilst there was a large bathroom on the mezzanine level at the end of the corridor mentioned on the ground floor, I do not know how many there were upstairs. I know they existed as after Grandpa Edwin’s death, his daughter, Edythe, and her family, who lived in Alexandria at the time, stayed up there during the summer months while my parents, my sister and I stayed on the ground floor!

Continuing the description of the garden, facing the entrance to the house, on the right was the green glass panelled hothouse and just beyond that was a gate that lead to an underground passage that lead down to the sea. I cannot remember what the lower level of the garden was like, other than when one emerged from the tunnel and walked down a few metres, there was a magnificent green fig tree which produced copious amounts of fruit. This tree was so tall that it rose to the marble balustrade at the end of the top level of the garden. The other side of the marble balustrade was a sheer drop down to the lower garden. It was wide enough to stand on, and my sister and I would regularly give our Mother heart failure as we climbed onto it to get the figs!

Closer to the house and opposite the gate to the lower garden was a sunken bit of the garden which had flag stones and a pergola. Wisteria would grow on this and it was heavenly to sit underneath it on a warm summer’s day, with the sweet scent filling the air.