Nicaea is now known to us only as a name, a somewhat illusionary place connected with synods, bishops and councils of the Church and, more usually, with the creed which takes its name from it. But in reality it is more than a name. Some fifty miles from Brusa, or a good day's journey from Constantinople with the aid of all the conveniences of modern travel, what remains of this city that was once so important stands on the borders of the lake of Isnic. To reach it several ranges of hills have to be crossed by the worst of roads, intended only for the old Turkish araba or high carriage but now gaily used by motors and lorries. But the country is delightful and the view from the various foot-hills which surround Mount Olympus is superb. These hills, together with those of a second range further to the north, hem in the lake and so afford a natural protection for the town on its eastern shore, the walls of which can just be distinguished from the hills as brown patches amongst the exuberant green of the coastal fringe.