According to Turkish Daily News, the top 10 countries in the UNDP development ranking the previous year included Canada, Norway, US, Australia, Iceland, Sweden, Belgium, Netherlands, Japan and Great Britain. Turkey was in 85th place, in the company of countries such as Brazil, Tunisia and Belize. As usual, development was uneven. In the cities you could obtain services to rival those in developed countries, but in the country it was a different story. Perhaps the greatest challenges to Turkey were to improve their human rights, to look outwards, and to care for the environment. They got a head start on other Middle Eastern countries thanks to the reforms of the Turkish Republic but they could still get left behind in a fast-changing world.
I woke at 0500 and went up to the roof to watch the sunrise, and the still lit Aya Sofya and Blue Mosque against the daybreak. Then I went back to stretch the time until breakfast by reading the paper and doing my packing.
Each room in the hotel had a poem. Mine was Listening to Istanbul by Orhan Veli Kanik. It was a fitting paean to Istanbul at the tail end of my holiday. It is a special place blessed by geography and climate. I had barely scratched its many layers of history. I would like to revisit it some day.
The hotel had a friendly kitten that I positioned on my luggage for pictures, that's why its poses look awkward. It was probably thinking: Am I doing this right? Will I get stroked after doing what this strange human wants of me?
My flight wasn't until early afternoon so there was no hurry. I sauntered over to the Orient Hostel and joined a shuttle. There were a couple of USAns and 4 Belgians or Dutch students in the van. The students had heavy duffel bags or backpacks. I'll never understand people who don't pack light.
At the airport I was so early that they hadn't even assigned a gate to my flight yet. I saw the destination Vnukovo on the board. Where the hell was that? I later discovered that it is the oldest of Moscow's three operating airports.
I had retained a 1 million TL note as a keepsake so I had just enough money left to buy a sundae. And that was my last purchase before we flew off into the sunset.
I woke around 0500, partly due to the mosque. Some late-night revelers had come in during the wee hours. I stayed in bed until 0700, washed and walked around Sultanahmet. I considered a buffet breakfast at the Acropol, but it was out of my class. So I settled for yet another Turkish breakfast at The Pudding Shop. Sigh, never mind, only one more day.
Then I moved into the Hotel Poem. The friendly staff were solicitous about my eyelid injury. Ah, my own room and bath, what luxury. I had a view overlooking the Sea of Marmara. There the noise was from the traffic on Kennedy Caddesi, which runs along the shore, and ship horns.
I caught the metro, to experience the ride, to Aksaray, then a dolmuş across the Atatürk Bridge spanning the Golden Horn. I had a look at the facade of the historic Pera Palas (where passengers from the Orient Express stayed), and finally ended up on Istiklal Caddesi, the famous shopping and entertainment pedestrian street in the Beyoğlu district. I hopped off the dolmuş near the British Council and found a place serving a tasty prix fixe lunch of Kadinbudu Köfte (Lady's Thighs Köfte), garnish and rice. A little later, still feeling peckish, I had a stick of fried mussels from a vendor. I posted off all the remaining postcards, and bought some apricots and cherries.
I returned to Sultanahmet via the Tünel, a short underground railway line, which took me downhill to Karakoy, within striking distance of Eminönü via the Galata bridge. The day had started off overcast but now it was sunny and steamy.
In the evening I returned to the Karadeniz, where the old waiter welcomed me. I accepted his suggestion of a Beyti kebap. I wasn't sure what it was but I was sure that it would be good, and it indeed was. I felt that I knew every corner of Sultanahmet now. I was not sorry to be leaving, but I just wanted to be sure that I had not missed some experience, as it might be a long time before I visit again, if at all. Who knows what Turkey will be like by then, perhaps it might even be in the EU.
I took my cherries to the sound and light show. It was a bit disappointing because of the poor sound, but I received a printed copy of the script. I had a nightcap of a glass of wine opposite the 4 Seasons Hotel. I noted that the area was starting to get lousy with tourists, especially USAns. Time to get out.
After the Grand Bazaar it was time to buy presents for home. I saw jam in a shop on Divan Yolu. (This avenue whose name means Road to the Imperial Council, i.e. Topkapı, starting from the Sultanahmet district and running past the Grand Bazaar, was the first part of a road to Rome, some 1600 km away.) However I wanted to see if the prices were any better at Mısır Çarşisi (Spice Bazaar) first. They weren't but I got dainty lokum (Turkish Delight) in that district, Eminönü, from one of many specialty stores. Then I went back to Divan Yolu for a couple of jars of jam. While there I took a peek at the hamam (Turkish bath) that I would visit that evening.
I took my loot back to the hostel and grabbed a bottom bunk that was available. There were a couple of new arrivals, a young Brit couple.
This is one of the more modern Istanbul street cars. They were quite advanced; residents can pay their fare with a contactless stored value token system.
After an afternoon siesta I went for a Turkish bath. I was assigned a small changing room where I could store my belongings and put on a towel. I first worked up a sweat in the warm room, then progressed to the hot room. After a splash with cold water, a masseur approached me. We haggled a bit and agreed on the price of a rub down, which was not included in the admission but paid directly to the masseur later, somewhat surreptitiously, a bakşiş. It was a somewhat passive experience for me, I just laid back on the stone and got pounded and scrubbed. I didn't believe it possible that a rub down could scrape off so much dead skin. I felt like a new man, recently moulted, upon emerging. The photo is of the "foyer" of the hamam.
After that I went for a walk in the district of Kumkapı. This traditionally housed a large number of Armenians. These days it has many good fish restaurants.
But they were obviously out of my price range. I was invisible to the spruikers and waiters; I didn't appear to be someone who would eat there.
Never mind, there were lots of good places on Divan Yolu for a late meal. A charming old waiter at the Karadeniz enticed me into trying their doner meal. It was quite good, although the baklava at the end of the meal was a bit too sweet for my taste.
When I got back to the dorm, the Brits were discreetly making out like rabbits in their corner.
In the morning, the drawbacks of hostel accommodation were apparent: the sink was blocked, and there was no toilet paper. At least there had been no snorers in the dorm. I decided that I would reserve a nice room at the Hotel Poem for my last night to leave in style.
I couldn't face another Turkish breakfast so I had french toast instead.
Here are some more market pictures. Lots of those tasty eggplants and peppers.
The prices are probably in thousands of TL so of the order of one to a few dollars per kilo.
I went to the Grand Bazaar also known as the Covered Bazaar as most of it is indoors. This is the Beyazit Gate. There were lots of tourists there, especially French, even that early in the morning.
Metalwork and utensils.
Beautiful porcelain.
One of the wider and less crowded passages.
There were lots of jewelry and clothing, and of course souvenirs, but nothing of interest to me.
Sahaflar Çarşısı (Old Book Bazaar) which was nearby, was of more interest to me. I wasn't looking for antiquarian books but for Nasreddīn Hodja stories translated into English. Nasreddin is a well-known character not just in Middle Eastern and Central Asian folk humour but far beyond. He is witty but sometimes also the butt of a joke. Here's a short one: One morning, his neighbour asked Hodja, "Last night we heard noises coming from your house. It sounded like something falling down the stairs. What happened?" Hodja replied: "My wife threw my robe down the stairs." "Come on, Hodja! A robe doesn't make that much noise." "But I was wearing it," Hodja said.
I'll continue the rest of the day in the next post to spread out the pictures.
It really wasn't my first day in Istanbul, just the first of my last 3 days. I had allocated 6 days total to Istanbul, half at each end.
I had started getting up early again to accustom myself to the impending timezone jump. That morning I managed 0500. It was noisy outside when I opened the balcony door, mostly sea birds crying. There was even one that sounded like a dog waffing. The sun was out though there were clouds. I went to the hotel terrace and sat for a half hour watching the jetty. I saw lone commuters hurrying to catch the 0600 ferry, and saw one ferry leave for Heybeliada, the second largest island of the group. Then I went for breakfast.
This clock tower is just outside the hotel and one of the first points of reference after disembarking from the ferry.
I left my bag with reception and walked to the monastery of Ayios Nikolaos. It's a reminder that more Greeks lived here in the past. It showed no sign of current use. There were flies everywhere due to the horse shit. They even followed me down the hill.
Büyükada has many stately mansions due to rich people setting up holiday homes here.
I had a walk through the island's markets. Many shops had advertisements in Hebrew, perhaps due to Israeli visitors, and perhaps history as Jews have been in Turkey for centuries. There is even a synagogue on the island.
This is the island's central "taxi" rank.
The trip back to Sirkeci was breezy. Istanbul was crowded and noisy as always. I checked in at the youth hostel, then went for a walk in the markets. I like looking at the colour of produce.
A stall selling flours and pulses. A tourist like me taking pictures always got curious looks from the subjects, especially as my eyelid was still swollen.
This is the Orient Hostel, another hostel in the same neighbourhood of Sultanahmet, where I had decided I would catch a shuttle to the airport on departure day.
In the evening after dinner, I caught a ferry to Üsküdar, on the Asian shore. It was a cool place, in both senses. The lights of the European shore were magical to watch. On regaining the European shore, I found a cafe serving Turkish coffee but it was disappointing. If you like it, then you like coffee with the flavour boiled out of it and sludge at the bottom of the cup.
I woke up around 0300 due to the jetlag as I had expected. I read and listened to my FM radio a bit. There was a station playing Latino music, I wondered if it was due to freak radio wave propagation. At 0600 I went up to the terrace to take some pictures of the dawn over the Sea of Marmara. This one is a telephoto shot.
This one gives you an idea of the neighbourhood.
And this is what the Empress Zoe Hotel looks like from the street. There is a dome peeking out from the right edge of the picture. That was a haman, a Turkish bath. I didn't visit that one but I did get the experience in another one elsewhere.
After taking the photos there was still no sign of breakfast. Oh well, it was only 0700 on a Sunday and it was a bit unreasonable of me to expect to be served this early, even if I did feel hungry due to the jet lag. So I went back to bed for a nap.
This hotel had two friendly cats, a plump orange one, and a skinnier gray tabby. For sure a spoiled cat, one with its own cushion.
There were lots of cats in the streets and they were not shy of people so I supposed that they were not maltreated.
The best thing about a Turkish breakfast was the warm fresh bread especially the fragrant simit, a Turkish sesame ring. There would be flavourful fruit preserves, not made in a factory but by some local artisan.
All these were consumed in a serene terrace garden, right in the middle of a metropolis. Nothing quite prepares you for the pleasant surprises of travel, being hit by the sensations of a place in its entirety instead of reading about them piecemeal from books, no matter how well illustrated.
Suitably fortified, I set out to visit Topkapı. You may have noticed that there is no dot on the i. This is an opportune time to explain Turkish orthography. Languages in the Turkic family have a vowel harmony rule. Vowels are divided into two classes, the front vowels: eiöü, and the back vowels: aıou. The rule requires that front and back vowels not appear together in a word. The dotless ı is pronounced er so Topkapı rhymes with supper and not coffee. After you have pronounced Turkish words you will appreciate how vowel harmony reduces oral work and makes the spoken language flow better.
Topkapı Sarayı (palace) to give its full name, was the residence of the Ottoman sultans for about 400 years. In 1856, the residence moved to a European style palace Dolmabahçe along the Bosphorus. When the Ottoman empire was consigned to history books in 1921, Topkapı became a museum. Topkapı means cannon gate by the way.
The grounds are vast. It took us 5 minutes to walk from the outer gate to the inner courtyard.
This is the throne room.
There is a lot of mystique surrounding a sultan's palace, because of the harem, which is just the private portion of the palace. I suppose the idea feeds the polygamous fantasies of European cultures. Personally I wouldn't want be a sultan. A palace is still a cage, even for the master; I'd rather have my freedom.
The is the ablution house.
The best part of the tour was after the official guide left us to our own devices and I found a kiosk serving refreshments, overlooking the Sea of Marmara. I sat in the shade, took in the cool breezes and sipped a beer.
The rest of the day's adventures will be in the next post.
The tankers seemed like toys in the huge bathtub that was the Sea of Marmara. Mottled sunlight streamed through the clouds as the plane went beneath them. Near the airport were flats that wouldn't have been out of place in Mediterranean Europe.
I paid USD20 for a visa on arrival then waited for my backpack to be disgorged. Spoken Turkish is rapid: bla bla bla teşekkürler (... thanks). The Havaş shuttle dropped me at Aksaray. I was propositioned a couple of times regarding accommodation but not hassled. I tried to get an Akbil (an electronic travel pass) but couldn't work out where they were issued. Maybe wasn't worth my trouble anyway so I hopped onto a tram to the Sultanahmet area and paid the casual fare. I got a map from the tourist kiosk outside the Aya Sofya. Incidentally Sofya is not a woman's name, it means wisdom. I had a reservation with the Empress Zoe Hotel. It had a nice breakfast terrace with fresh Turkish bread. And a cat. My room was very comfortable.
After catching my breath, I set out to visit the Aya Sofya. There were lots of touts hanging around. I noticed that some Turks thought that I didn't understand English. This could be useful, I decided. A crowd of schoolchildren on excursion were curious about me. While waiting to enter I took a picture of ancient stones in the grounds. This area is soaked in history. At right you see the Deësis mosaic.
Here the virgin and child are flanked by Justinian I and Constantine I.
This was taken just inside the tour entrance. The light was poor so my long shutter exposure picture suffered from camera shake.
And here we are under the main dome.
After that I found a lunch place and had a köfte kebab with mevsim salatası (salad). Only it wasn't the full mevsim, just lettuce, onion and tomato. This went down well with ayran (yogurt drink).
This is the other major attraction of the area, the Sultan Ahmed mosque, also known as the Blue Mosque after the tiles inside. I didn't enter though, only took this photograph from a park between it and the Aya Sofya.
A couple of signs I saw: Control the traffic monster must refer to the road rage problem of some drivers. A sign on a shop by the side of the Aya Sofya read: Sorry, we are open.
I bought a bottle of cola from a friendly woman at a corner shop and retreated to my room for a siesta.
In the evening I ventured out for a walk, had a simple meal and took this picture of the mosque again, now blue on the outside too, then retired early due to the jet lag.
Each room in the hotel had a poem. Mine was Listening to Istanbul by Orhan Veli Kanik. It was a fitting paean to Istanbul at the tail end of my holiday. It is a special place blessed by geography and climate. I had barely scratched its many layers of history. I would like to revisit it some day.
My flight wasn't until early afternoon so there was no hurry. I sauntered over to the Orient Hostel and joined a shuttle. There were a couple of USAns and 4 Belgians or Dutch students in the van. The students had heavy duffel bags or backpacks. I'll never understand people who don't pack light.
