It’s pretty simple really: I love Istanbul. It’s a bit more expensive than I had somehow imagined, but I’m getting over that pretty quick given how nice it is here. Sure, the shop keepers are rather aggressive, walking backwards while saying, “let me help you spend your money, lets go in my shop.” But really, that’s about the worst thing we have encountered thus far; The skyline is beautiful, the air is clean, the water is clear, and the people are quite friendly. And then there is the food; I would die a happy man if I were to never taste again. But anyway, lets get on with the story and some pictures.
Thanks to the British and their un-dying love of bureaucracy (and British Airways apparent love of schedule changes) we didn’t make our connection from London to Istanbul. This got us a late arrival into Istanbul, but it also got us food/drink vouchers which I happily used on a lovely pour of 16yr Lagavulin Triple Malt. Totally worth the delay.
James still trying to get the cobwebs out of his head Saturday morning after 33hrs of travel.
Türk Khave! (Turkish coffee)
Köfte ekmek (meatball sandwich) from a street vender… heaven in your mouth.
We then wandered our way through Gülhane Parki where we saw a stunningly beautiful bride having her photo’s taken; Ustadza has been talking about her dress ever since. Come the end of the day, it was of course time to eat again and un-surprisingly Ustadza was quite excited to be eating again.
Mehmet, who is friends with the chef and ate dinner with us. He speaks excellent english and was happy to give lots of advice.
For Saturday night Ustadza had managed to arrange us tickets to see Gigi, her soon to be dance teacher, perform at the Hoçapaša (pronounced Hodjaposha). What a show by some amazingly talented folks!
A waxed Whirling Dervish at the Hoçapaša.
Gigi was on fire (no, not literally).
There were many other dancers, but I’m trying not to get TOO carried away in just one post.
Gigi again.
Sunday was mostly occupied with the spice bazar which is filled with almost anything you could want (except iso-butane canisters, I have learned that those are hard to come by here). This will come up again, but I was anxiously looking get one for my camp stove so I could make my own Türk Çay (Turkish chi). Quick lesson for y’all, chi just means tea to pretty much the whole world except American’s, so when we order our chi tea, we are really asking for a tea tea.
But anyway, come Sunday evening we took a dinner cruise through the Boğaziçi (Bosphorus) which is the narrow strait between the Marmara Sea and the Black Sea. Good food, good drink, and good dancing.
This little girl was quite mesmerized by the dancers Isis wings (as in the Egyptian Goddess Isis).
Monday we all slept in, had a leisurely breakfast, and then accompanied Ustadza on the light rail to meet Gigi for Ustadza’s first of two dance lessons.
James and I wandered the neighborhoods a bit before settling in for some Türk Çay with the locals. While sitting at a table outside I took note of a spray painted symbol across the street. Thinking it might make for an interesting shot I got the next person walking by. I looked it up when we got back to the hostel and was surprised to learn it’s actually far more than just some kids little drawing. Ülkü Ocakları is the proper name for the Grey Wolves Organization. You can read all about it on Wiki, but they are an ultra-nationalist/neo-fascist organization that is known for the political violence of 1976-80, when they formed death squads and were responsible for the Taksim Square Massacre in 1977 and the Maraş Massacre in 1978, and many other violent things. Now apparently re-formed, but without the death squads for now…
After tea we walked back to meet Ustadza, but stopped on the way so I could buy a great little hand carved pipe from a girl running a small tobacco shop.
I feel like this is a good time to bring this up: this place has a thing with stray dogs and cats. They are well fed, watered, loved, and generally quite friendly. The government checks up on them as much as possible and tries to keep up with their medical needs. It’s quite impressive really, and as such you can expect to see many more pictures of them (mainly the cats), but here are a few to start with.
Monday afternoon James and Ustadza were exhausted so I went on walkabout on my own. I had read that I could find stove fuel on the European side of town just across the Galata Köprüsü (bridge), so I made a beeline over there. On the way I passed a women with her infant asking for change just as a boy of about 6 tried to swipe something from her. Let me assure you, these are not the people to try and steal from, and that little 6yo got his ass beat until bystanders stepped in and pulled the woman off, two or three times. Guess in Turkey stealing candy from a baby isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I slowly wandered my way across the bridge watching all the fishermen try their hand. I’m told no one ever catches anything from that bridge, it’s just a popular place to get away from your old lady.
Finally, success with stove fuel! I picked up two just in case, and went in search of food and a bathroom. This search led me down some very non-tourist streets along the wharf, which worked out very much in my favor. I found all sorts off cool little shops for the fishing boats, and most importantly the most amazing fish sandwich that has ever graced my tastebuds.
I took this heavenly concoction to the edge of one of the wharfs and dangled my feet of the edge while savoring this tasty delight. Just as I was finishing the sun was beginning to set and one of the restaurants threw out a bucket of bread crumbs for the sea gulls to clean up, resulting in an impressive flocking. Backlit against the glow of the setting sun it was the perfect end to my meal.
Walking back across the Galata lent some spectacular views of the city skyline, including a tiny sliver of rainbow over one of the distant cami’s (mosques).
I was stopped by a pair of raki-drinking old men (raki is a Turkish liquor with a strong hint of black liquorish) who ordered me to take another picture of the setting sun. Admittedly, it was a great shot and being enjoyed by many a young couple.
Yesterday (Tuesday) was another dance lesson for Ustadza, then a visit to the well-known Turkish dance costumer Bella. James and I took it easy, spending plenty of time sipping Türk Khave in a park and people watching before taking the tram and cable car (the second oldest subway in the world!) over the hill to see Bella.
Final stop was just at the front door to our hostel for dinner, served by Lorenz, a Syrian refuge.
