Istanbul, Turkey
13 October 2009
Dear Family and Friends,
Fortunately, I chose to be in Istanbul on Sunday.
Fortunately, my hotel was a ten minute walk to the Sultanahmet area and the Blue Mosque and The Haghia Sophia – two of Istanbul's most historic and most visited sites.
On Sunday, the visitors included hundreds of residents of Istanbul and other Turkish tourists and their families who swarmed around the grand mosques, picnicked on the grounds, and entered the halls for prayer. It was Sunday in the Park and I was happy to meander among the multi-colored crowd as I admired once again the lofty minarets, the colossal domes - the superb architectural achievements of mighty Istanbul.
The next morning I took a long walk past the mosques, through the markets, along the commercial district, down the hill towards the river, around the Yeni Camii (a four hundred year old mosque called the New Mosque), across the Galata Bridge that spans the Golden Horn, and finally up a steep hill to the distant Galata Tower. "Alhamdulillah," the Galata Tower has a lift inside.
The original cone-shaped stone tower was built by the Genoese in 1348. It sits 35 meters (115 ft) above sea level and is itself another 67 meters (220 ft) tall.
The view from the outdoor circular walkway of the Galata Tower is the panoramic view of an energetic capital city of more than ten million: impatient, noisy street traffic, the Golden Horn waterway that joins the Bosphorus, cargo ships and tankers lumbering north to The Black Sea or headed south to The Sea of Marmara and the Mediterranean, cruise ships docked along the river, swift ferries crisscrossing the waterways, and suspension bridges that carry traffic from the European side to the Asia side of the city. In the distance, in all directions, the dozens of tall, slender hillside minarets that pierce the misty sky call out to the faithful and seem to welcome all of us to this modern crossroad of commerce and culture.
It's no wonder that Istanbul (pronounced, by the way, with the accent on the second syllable) is a favorite with travelers. There's so much to see. I found the Chora Church with stunning mosaics of the life of Jesus and Mary. I wandered atop the old city walls. And there's so much to buy. I managed to avoid the beguiling carpet shops but I couldn't resist the coffee shops and the seductive sweets.
I met Rosario and John Walsh, a charming and generous couple from Dublin. At an outdoor restaurant near our hotel, we had dinner together twice (more accurately, they invited me to be their guest).* The Walsh's were looking forward to returning home to Ireland. I was anticipating my flight to Van, a city deep into the heart of Eastern Anatolia and the first stop of a long journey across southern Turkey.
PS I'll buy a rug later, but not in Istanbul. Seven years ago, in Istanbul I found a small rug I liked. I bargained hard. I insisted on my price. The dealer came down but not to my price. I insisted again and again. Finally, all red-faced and all Italian-opera-dramatic-like he relented, packed up the rug, took my credit card in disgust and practically tossed the rug at me. I was happy with my purchase. Until, in Cappadocia, I found the same rug, for, you guessed it, half the price I paid in Istanbul. Is there a lesson here?
* Ayasofya Kebap Hause
Great Memories
Jan,
Rick and I loved Turkey when we visited 15 years ago! We came in to the country from Greece through the port of Marmaris. Our original plans had been to do the typical tourist route up the coast to Ephesus. Instead, we met a couple from Canada who had been to Turkey once before. We had a terrific dinner with them and they asked us to share a rental car and to drive into Central Turkey. We threw up our hands and said, of course!
We first drove to Pamukkale, famous for its hot springs, and wandered through what seemed like mountains of white chalk dotted with hot puddles. Then we swam in the springs of a local hotel.
Then we began the long drive through poppy fields and tiny towns to the Cappadocia region -- have you been there? I'm sure you must have been in all your travels. It's a wonderland of stone "fairy chimneys" popping up out of the ground. When we were there, some were still inhabited and we heard lots of fascinating stories about how the early Christians carved homes and underground cities to escape the Romans. We went down into one below-ground network of rooms and tunnels. We stayed in a rock pension that I think cost $6 a night and called each other Fred and Wilma. We ate in a rock dining hall with a crowd of backpackers from all over the world.
We found everyone in Turkey extraordinarily friendly.
Then we took the bus to Kayseri and flew Turkish Air to Istanbul. First, we had quite an experience getting from the bus terminal to the airport. Back then at least, few people spoke English that far east and I did a lot of pointing to the map and saying "airport, airport." Much nodding, and driving into what seemed like the middle of nowhere. We saw no signs, no planes, no nothing except barbed wire fence. Finally our driver pulls up to a gate where there are armed guards and has us get out. Rick and I are giving each other some mildly nervous glances, but I figure a) they've got to know where we're trying to go and b) there's nothing we can do about it even if we are in the wrong place. The driver dumps our bags and leaves and we're taken into a little guardhouse past the barbed wire and motioned to sit and wait.
To pass the time, I pull out a deck of cards and start playing solitaire. Whoosh! I was surrounded by guards so fast -- they wanted to play cards and seemed fascinated by the sight of a woman shuffling and playing cards. I showed them how to shuffle, and when a bus of tourists finally pulled up to take us deep into the country to the terminal, I left them the cards as a gift.
We drove the rest of the way past military jets (they were fighting the Kurds at the time) to a tiny, tiny terminal full of bag-sniffing dogs.
We spent five days in Istanbul and loved it, naturally. We did all the main sights, and attempted to learn how to discourage the constant hawkers that were everywhere.
As you often write, it's often those experiences with fellow travelers you remember. We stayed near a hostel and I remember going to breakfast in their cafe one morning, eating our eggs, and next to us, an attractively tattooed, um, gentleman suddenly whips out his kit and starts discussing piercing procedures with a couple of backpackers. I think we left just as he was getting ready to demonstrate.
Anyway, your letter about Turkey brought back some great memories of the trip Rick and I took 15 years ago to Greece and Turkey (Rick lived in Athens when he was 8 years to 12 years old, so we returned to visit where he grew up), so I had to write.
Hope you are well, sure sounds like it ...
Lisa Gibbs
Finally!
Turkish Parents
Home Sick
"New Eyes"
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