Istanbul Six

We grabbed the ferry to the Princes’ Islands. Walked two hours admiring the Victorian style-houses, the all-other-style houses, the palm trees mixed with the evergreens, the flowers and cats.

The streets were peaceful, thanks to no automobiles. Horse-drawn carriages and bikes and foot power are the ways to get around.

We ate Italian gelato and, because we missed the 18:15 return ferry, a delicious dinner until the 20:00 ferry whisked us off back to the big city.

Istanbul is like a string of diamonds from the water at night.

Istanbul Five

The rain encouraged us to take a day off sightseeing. We found a café and sipped coffee and read for a couple of hours instead. This is a holiday after all.

In walking through the backstreets of Beyoglu, we were encouraged to shop. It’s as if in Istanbul, one of the vital aspects to survival, along with breathing, drinking water and eating, is shopping.

I’d been encouraged from home to try the little fried fish called “Barbun” (but probably not spelled like that) while here. As we walked, a man at a fish shop called out “barbun!” as he threw little breaded fishes into a vat of hot oil in front of him. We jumped all over that, and I can wholeheartedly encourage anyone (who eats fish) to try it while here.

The rain continued through the evening, but we dined at 360, a restaurant with a 360 degree view of the city. Swanky and delicious.

Istanbul Four

Topkapi Palace in the rain:

Private Turkish Hammam bath and massage:

And a dinner of freshly caught, personally chosen fish at the fish market:

All good. :)

Istanbul Three

The platform to the Bosphorus ferry is bustling. There are people everywhere and many of them are not standing still. They are wearing everything from jeans and brand running shoes and headscarves and skirts and most of them are carrying a mobile phone. Some are meeting lovers and friends, others are dragging crying children. Some are completely at home, others gawk around big-eyed at the strangeness.

Two women are sitting at stools snacking on fish sandwiches served from a gold-plated boat along the harbour for lunch. They have heard that they are famous in Istanbul. A ferry beside them is alternating between bellowing out thumping music and rapid-fire announcements in Turkish, the only words of which the two women can make out are “Bosphorus tour”. When they finish their sandwiches they board the boat, and spend the next hour and a half (well, actually, just over an hour, according to one of them), ferrying between Europe and Asia on the Bosphorus.

The evening takes them to a small event in Dede Efendi, Sultanahmet, to a Whirling Dervishes show. They meet up with friends also in town and after the show, eat at a local fish restaurant that has simple décor, an ober who goes out of his way to help them (they are now five), from unlocking the door two apartments over and showing the way up to the second floor bathroom, to selecting the perfect menu without bothering to ask choices other than for drinks, to shuffling everyone under the awning when a flash thunder and lightening and rain spell hit.

This narrator is sounding more and more like a travel guide. But the restaurant was featured, coincidentally, in the Guardian UK's paper today (its the first one called "Ahirikapi Balikçisi"). None of the diners knew that until well into the meal. Also, the narrator would like to note that the picture above of the whirling dervishes was meant to be a video of the spinning dervishes and the music but couldn't upload it due to technical difficulties

Istanbul Two

Dear loved ones,

Day two in Istanbul, like day one, got off to a slow start. We have an apartment here in town, and it is dark and cool and very conducive to sleep. I won’t tell you how late we’ve sleeping in but trust me when I say it’s embarrassing.

We took the tram to the very busy, very colourful Grand Bazaar. According to all the literature, it is the world's largest covered bazaar with 64 streets and over 2000 shops. Mom bought some tea paraphernalia and pillow covers. It is usually the sellers’ jobs to charm the customers but I think mom was the one doing the charming; she loves the personal touch, and one of them served us a cup of apple tea after agreeing on the price. Maybe that’s the trick of it, but it was a pleasant way to make it through the throngs of people and goods for sale regardless.

Once we’d had about enough of the crowds, we found our way to a restaurant recommended by two of mom’s newly acquired Istanbul contacts, which turned out to have a lovely view over the Bosphorus and good mezes and wine. The restaurant bordered the spice market part of the Grand Bazaar, where we ended the day loading up on tea and spices and cheese and olives. Some we’ll bring back home, some we’ll finish here.

Love, Biber and Cay

Istanbul One

Thanks to a classic combination of busyness and laziness, I tend to ignore my blog. I usually remember that I even have a blog whenever I’m travelling. I guess that makes me a hit-and-miss blogger. Though I’d like to get more regular at it, the fact that I’m slack doesn’t keep me awake at night.

Not yet anyway. As I continue to swirl deeper and thicker into writing, I am sure I’ll feel the tug of blogging more responsibly.

For now, though, my mom and I are in Istanbul, Turkey for a week’s holiday, and so I remembered the blog and decided to post at the end of each day a little postcard to our loved ones. Today was our first day, and we spent it wandering around Beyoglu and area. We walked along the water, drank a Turkish coffee, had a beer across from Galata Tower overlooking the city, strolled up the Istiklal shopping street and had a mezes dinner.

Our approximate route:

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