İstanbul
Blue Mosque
August 4, 2005
Elizabeth and I took a bus to the airport in Krakow, ate, then flew via Berlin to
Istanbul. There was a Burger King in the Berlin airport, which I found extremely
satisfying after nearly a year long hiatus of good fast food. Also in Berlin we
met a couple of Elizabeth’s friends at the airport, also going to Istanbul.
We arrived in Istanbul early on the 4th (2am) and our pre-arranged ride failed to
show up so we had no way to the hostel. We shared a cab with Elizabeth’s friends
so it only cost 9 Euros a person.
Sultanahmet was beautiful on the way in and the view of Aya Sofia from my bed was
incredible.
Aya Sofia
Aya Sofia
We soon discovered that the entire hostel was employed by illegal immigrants including
many from Peru, a sad statement on the conditions there.
I was awoken today by the call to prayer from the Aya Sofia at about 5:00am. It
was incredible, but I was only half awake and didn’t fully appreciate it. After
breakfast I began to realize how hot it was going to be so I started drinking water,
a theme I’m sure will last for the rest of the trip. Breakfast was a “Turkish Breakfast”
consisting of a hard boiled egg, tomato slices, cucumber slices, bread and some
jam, butter, and cheese spread.
I got to the Blue Mosque at 8:45, fifteen minutes before it opened, but there were
already numerous cruise tour groups there and so they opened early and I got in
line. I took off my shoes before entering and the interior was remarkable. The floors
were covered with carpets and the far walls contained windows of stained glass.
The huge dome is supported by four enormous pillars and the interior is painted
with blues, dark reds, and golds on an off-white background. There was a nice courtyard
out front, but I left less than completely satisfied.
I headed across the park to Aya Sofia, but after taking money out I realized the
line was long and I preferred to get to Topkapi Palace when it opened so I ran over
there. After standing in line and listening to some French man incessantly complain
I finally got my ticket, entered and rushed to the bathroom on the far end of the
palace. I then rushed back to the Harem entrance to get a ticket for that. My tour
time was for 11:00 so I strolled around the palace until then. It was a beautiful
setting and the entire place had a very eastern feel to it.
I made it to the harem for the tour, which was very impressive. The place was well
worth the time and money, although no room seemed to stand out more than any other,
although the final balcony was enclosed by various gorgeous buildings.
Once the tour finished I rushed over to Aya Sofia and was quite impressed. In contradiction
to the Blue Mosque, the floors were marble and the building resembled a church disguised
as a mosque. Here the dome was unsupported and the paintings were a combination
of Christian covered in Islamic calligraphy. This building was so historic and truly
brought the history of the city to life showing not only its long history, but the
changing people.
As I exited I met one of these people, Yasir, a guy about my age who was trying
to sell me postcards. I said no, and then he asked if I wanted to see his parents’
carpet shop. I passed, but he was nice and he confirmed my theory that Turkish people
are extremely nice, but most of the time they are trying to sell you something.
Or perhaps they are just really nice because they realize they have nothing to loose,
even if you don’t buy something from them, they have still met a new person.
After picking Elizabeth up at the hostel we headed to the grand Bazaar, grabbing
a kebab on the way. Around the corner from the Bazaar stands Beyazit Square, which
is bordered by a great mosque, Beyazit Cami (meaning mosque) adorned by a giant
Turkish flag on one side, the entrance to Istanbul University on another and the
Grand Bazaar on a third side.
The Grand Bazaar was great, however I was hesitant to really talk to the salesmen
or bargain, plus I’m not sure what, if anything I want yet anyway. We spent a lot
of time here getting lost and browsing. We didn’t buy anything though, knowing we’ll
return in a couple weeks, so we headed over to the spice market, via the Roman aqueducts.
The Roman aqueduct is still very mighty and powerful, dominating the huge semis
that pass under it along with the surrounding landscape and buildings. We soon found
the spice market, which felt more real than the Grand Bazaar. Everyone let me try
their food and more people than I would have liked forced Turkish Delights upon
me, a treat that was only enjoyed the first time. We found our Iranian saffron,
but again we decided to wait until we return.
For lunch I grabbed a lahmacun, a pizza type thing covered with lamb meat and spices
and Elizabeth got “cheese pasta.” Both were great and the view out the window was
overlooking the Golden Horn over to Beyoglu.
We took our time eating and once we finished headed out to the small square in front
of the Yeni Cami. The atmosphere here was unlike that of Sultanahmet, it felt more
real, more local. Around this area and across the street along the Galata Bridge
there were a number of women completely covered, only there eyes showing. It was
not a large percentage of the women, but enough to notice and stop.
Before crossing the bridge there was a small market in the underground cross walk
selling everyday goods, not the souvenirs that are sold in the Grand Bazaar. Here
I heard Turkish, not English, the women were covered, and I was the blond minority,
not of the foreign majority that is witnessed throughout much of Sultanahmet.
We crossed the bridge to Beyoglu and hiked up the large hill to Galata Tower. The
view was great and a man outside insisted on sharing his peanuts with me. They were
good and his generosity struck me as odd, an act that simply doesn’t occur in places
like the US or my current home, Poland.
We had almost driven ourselves into the ground at this point so returned to Sultanahmet
to check out the Basilica Cistern before returning. The Cistern was closed however,
so I (Elizabeth headed back) walked the Hippodrome and returned to the hostel.
Elizabeth said that she talked to her friends and so we went to a restaurant/hotel
called Seven Hills to join them for the best view of the city at night. The rest
of Maraih’s friends had arrived and so about eight went to the rooftop and looked
out over the Bosporus, Golden Horn, Sea of Marmara, Aya Sofia, and Blue Mosque.
A truly incredible view that sadly to say put the view from the Galata Tower to
shame.
The view was paid for through the seven lira beers. Maraih and friends walked us
to our hostel, from where we caught a shuttle to the Atatürk airport for our 4:10am
flight to Yerevan. The last shuttle was at 10:00pm so we had time to relax at the
airport before our flight check-in opened.
The check-in was chaos, which consisted of dozens of Russians pushing numerous boxes
of un-Godly size to the check-in counter. Surely it was a smuggling hub, but how
could they get away with it if they brought so much, surely they would be checked.
As I stood in line I asked myself why I was returning to the former Soviet Union
as I was pushed from every angle and my legs were battered by the over-loaded cart
of goods. The half hour in line consisted of the loud noise of packing tape covering
every inch of the packages and Elizabeth talking to a “lost” Argentine. This Argentine
had a daughter with her. The girl’s father was Armenian and so she was to go to
Armenia to meet the family and learn if there was any future with this man. She
only spoke Spanish so the going got tough especially since her flight was one long
continuous day beginning in Argentina to Brazil, Switzerland, Istanbul, and finally
to Yerevan.
Once past passport control we checked out the enormous duty free shops and tried
to stay awake. For the second time, we passed through security control before entering
the plane, a necessary step given the Turkish/Armenian relations.
Library in the harem
August 20, 2005
After arriving in Istanbul by overnight bus, I took a servis to Taksim Square, a
stop I missed by only a couple kilometers, giving me an opportunity I wouldn’t otherwise
have. I started my walk back into town past Dolmabahçe Palace, the location of Atatürk’s
death and former home to the later sultans. I did eventually make it to Taksim Square,
an unimpressive square, lined with unimpressive buildings.
A walk down Istiklal was quiet in the morning, although the shop owners were setting
up tables outside as the bakeries and cafes were opening. At one point a guy came
up to talk to me. I’m not sure of his motivation, but he said that he works as a
receptionist at a hotel nearby and wanted to know who I was, why I was here, and
where I was staying. He seemed alright and we talked for about five minutes before
he found a new tourist to talk to.
I crossed the Galata Bridge, which was lined with fishermen at the time. As a large
ship came to pass, it struck its horn and the fishermen lifted their lines until
the ship passed. I made it back to the hostel without a problem or map and checked
in. After waiting about an hour for Elizabeth to wake, shower and eat we were off,
first to an old hamam and then to the Basilica Cistern.
The baths of Lady Hürrem were less than impressive as were the carpets that now
fill the building. We then headed to the Basilica Cistern, far and away one of the
highlights of the city. This underground cistern is lined with pillars and the enormity
of the place is truly remarkable, particularly given the fact that the structure
was built in the 500’s. The water was shallow and had rather large fish swimming
around it, as the pillars were mildly lit giving the place a dark and eerie atmosphere.
In the back of the cistern were two large medusa heads used as supports for the
pillars, one up-side-down and the other sideways. The place was incredible and every
detail from the pillars to the water, walls, and intricately stone-carved ceilings
were great.
Next on the list was the Grand Bazaar to go shopping. As much as I despise shopping
its great fun in the Grand Bazaar so long as you follow the rules of bargaining
and aren’t an idiot. Before entering the dragon’s den, however we energized ourselves
with a kebab from the shop in the Bazaar, according to Elizabeth the best in the
world… a statement I very, very strongly disagree with, but excellent none-the-less.
Elizabeth went to town, buying calligraphy for 80 lira, actually a pretty good job
bargaining from the beginning, but still more money than I’d pay. She also bought
silver earrings. I negotiated some bowls, but didn’t get good prices and left, then
worked on negotiating a carpet just for fun. I got the salesman down from 700 to
220 in less than two minutes. The secret is to be uninterested and knowledgeable
about the carpet's value. I told the salesman I didn't want the carpet
and that it wasn't worth more than 200 lira, at which point the price dropped
from 700 to 220. I felt good about my new bargaining skills, but decided to only
negotiate on goods I was actually willing to buy since this man seemed less than
thrilled to see I wasn’t going to buy it.
We soon left the Bazaar and entered the best part of the city, Tahtakale and the
surrounding area between the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar. The area was full
of locals and I didn’t see a tourist for dozens of minutes. The streets were filled
from edge to edge; occasionally a truck or cart would come through as the people
very slowly moved out of the way. Both sides of the street were covered with vendors
selling clothes and food beside money exchanges. Shopping were Turks, many of whom
were veiled women and a good number of fully covered women. This was a place for
the women and children, occasionally seeing a man sell something or simply relaxing
on the street’s side watching the time pass as the rest of the world rushed by.
Overcome with hunger once again we stopped at a kebab stand. The man insisted that
we eat at the plastic table placed in the middle of the mess that was the street
and so we did. At first I wanted to escape the hectic place, but I soon realized
that it was the rush and chaotic state that were not only memorizing and hypnotic,
but oddly soothing and relaxing. Time seemed to stand still and mattered not, but
the street was consumed with a wholly different feeling.
We found ourselves in the spice market and after a quick walk through headed back
to the hostel. Before relaxing though, we went out to get a calligraphy necklace
that Elizabeth wanted. I went to the next shop and found some pillow cases. I demanded
one with the evil eye and then said I wouldn’t pay more than $5 per case. They said
no so I left, it worked like a charm and they agreed. I bought three and soon found
Elizabeth had also successfully bargained.
At the hostel we met a German guy who was hitch hiking across Europe and seemed
quite absent minded, but extremely fun and easy going. He also told us of a guy
from Frankfurt who had no passport and continued to sneak across border after border
by simply pretending like he has shown some sort of papers. Thus far he has made
it through the Balkans and is currently in Bulgaria.
We decided to head to the water and so bought some dried corn, excellent and peanuts
for the walk and the time we spent on the water, simply watching the boats pass.
Some locals were drinking and some Russians were posing in front of the water.
Soon after, we headed to the Hippodrome to sit and watch the people as they passed.
After the people rushed to wash themselves before the call to prayers we heard the
sounds coming from both sides of us, the Blue mosque nearly in front of us and Aya
Sofia to our left. The city seemed to go silent, the prayers’ volume overcoming
that of the bustle of the city. The sounds fell over the Hippodrome and dominated
the conversation.
Elizabeth decided after the call to prayers to head back up to Seven Hills, the
balcony overlooking everything. On the way we stopped to watch a dervish spin, for
what seemed like forever. It was extremely impressive and mesmerizing that someone
can do that without getting so dizzy that he falls over.
Elizabeth got calamari; I watched her eat since I wasn't hungry. The balcony
was covered with worthless Englishmen discussing how cheap it was here and talked
about their egos in overly blown posh accents. After returning to the nearby hostel
we went to sleep.
Beyazit Camii
Looking down
Galata Bridge
August 21, 2005
Everyone was awoken early by Marcin and Marisia, a Polish couple who proved more
irritating than anyone. They spoke at full volume as the rest of the people attempted
to sleep. They woke everyone up while they packed, a process which took about three
hours.
After waking and getting ready we headed down to eat. After this we got money and
returned to the hostel to find our Polish friends still packing. The plan was to
go to the baths, but now that we were awake, this was simply too good of entertainment
to leave, so we watched them take six bags each out of the hostel and onto their
two bikes. There was so much crap on those bikes they couldn’t actually get on them
to ride away, so they walked the bikes, like walking a donkey, whose back is full
of supplies.
After getting reservations for the night bus to the airport we headed out. Cağaloğlu
Hamam is mentioned in the book “1,000 Things to See and Do Before You Die,” so we
went. A bath house is not my type of thing, but I'm here. After deciding what
option I wanted and paying I was assigned to a room in the entrance area. Here I
took everything off and put on a towel. After getting a pair of wooden slippers
I was led to the hot room. Here I sat and sweat as another guy was getting bathed
by a large man, both in towels. The room was hot and I wished I drank more water,
but it didn’t really compare to the heat in the Russian banya so I just dealt with
it and enjoyed the architecture of the room.
The ceiling has small windows letting in enough light to bring a warm glow to the
white marble room. There are fountains everywhere with sinks beneath them. In the
middle of the room is a large elevated marble slab rising from the ground like an
altar.
After the man finished bathing, he left only me and the other man in the room. After
about 15 minutes another man entered the room and asked to see my key. Once he noticed
I was the next victim he ordered me on the elevated marble slab. Here he cracked,
or attempted to crack every bone in my bone. He also gave me one of the worst messages
imaginable. He was careful to avoid any privacy issues and then proceeded to push
my shoulder into the marble, unfortunately the marble proved stronger than my shoulder
and I was left with more of a painful rather than relieved feeling once finished.
Then, apparently I paid for a scrub down and shampoo, which was quite unwelcomed.
It’s extremely odd being bathed by another man, especially one who is rather large,
about 50, with a hairy chest, mustache and approaches you in a towel. The bath was
rather simple; I got washed and scrubbed, followed by being dowsed with more water
than I appreciated. I had a hard time taking breathes between buckets of water,
but it was soon over and I was quite glad. Instead of feeling refreshed and anew,
I simply felt glad he was leaving.
Before I could leave however I headed to the hot room for about ten minutes. Here
I met an Iranian American. He told me about how he tests the guys at the bazaar
by saying he’s either American or Iranian and the starting prices are vastly different.
He was nice enough, but I was dying of heat and sweat, a sweat that now ran smoothly
down my skin, allowing me to see the sweet streams instead of simply sweat beads.
I met the only other person in the place, a Spaniard and then after turning down
any tea or other refreshment, I headed out to the other room. Here my Turkish rub-down
guy demanded I take off my towel, at which point he gave me a new one, along with
a larger softer towel over my shoulders and another on my head; I would have looked
like a women hadn’t everyone looked the same as me. After sitting for a bit, I retired
to my private room, where I relaxed until I stopped sweating. After changing I headed
out.
On the way to the hostel I stopped and got a kebab for a negotiated price; I was
really getting into this haggling thing. I then stopped to look at the tea set again
and haggled some more. I gave him a price and upon his refusal I walked away. He
didn’t stop me so I assume that was truly the low price.
Upon Elizabeth’s return we went to find the kebab place we had found the day before,
kebab by weight. It was excellent; we both got the largest kebabs, 150 grams of
meat. This is how a kebab should be, meat, meat, tomatoes, lettuce, and more meat.
They cost 5 lira each so they threw in some free juice, which was badly needed after
the hamam. On the way back to the hostel I bought the tea set.
After relaxing for much of the rest of the day we headed out to eat. I had two types
of baklava, the simple plain type and a chocolate one, which was too much and again
made me feel sick to my stomach. The owner of the place was very kind and made Elizabeth
a salad, although they don’t sell them. In front of this place an older woman was
making thin bread, like lavash, quite a sight.
After a quick walk around town for food and my stomach screaming no, we returned
to the hostel to find our German friend. He taught us to play backgammon, but truly
it was just him playing himself. After an hour of this our bus came.
We found ourselves stuck with a nice Spanish girl and an awful Englishman, with
an accent more posh than that of the Queen. He annoyed the both of us, and the sight
of the airport was a great relief. Checking in was no problem, although there were
a lot of flights for 2:00am and the lines for both check in and passport control
became outrageous, but time was on our side.
Basilica Cistern
Basilica Cistern