Istanbul, Turkey

May 2nd

After arriving in Istanbul, we did what we typically do when landing in a new place: find our hostel. This time, however, was more of a shitshow than the place deserved. The directions provided by the hostel were piecemeal at best, and didn't mention that you needed to walk several blocks past the Metro station to find the tram, nor did it give accurate directions from there. After asking many Turkish folks how to get to XYZ street, we were roughly told 'go that way, make a right, then a left, then your next right'. Ohhhh-kaaaay. Street signs in Istanbul = literally nonexistent. The place was a dump, but well-located near the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia, so we busied ourselves enough to avoid it at all costs.

hagia sofia

In an effort to get out from under the skeezy hostel manager's too-friendly-for-my-liking eye, we immediately ditched our (locked) luggage and headed for the Grand Bazaar. Wow. Flea market meets Chinatown? Not even close. The place was massive and packed. They offered things like shoes, girdles, pashminas (to replace my ruined previous one...), lamps, candies, hookahs, knockoff purses and luggage (Summer: I didn't buy any!), ceramics, carpets (of course), food, everything. And you're supposed to haggle. So I tried.



On our way out of the Bazaar, we came across a man selling fruit from a cart. I had no idea what it was, yet he seemed kind and approachable. I peered curiously at the fruit, and he told me the name (in Turkish, of course), which I think was something like Eika (?). He then generously offered me one to sample...it was like a supersupertart green apple. I didn't care much for it, said my thanks yous, and wandered off. Rob then wisely convinced me to live in the now and go back for these shots:

(we did end up buying a little bag of the fruit, and totally chowed down on it...)

Try to find me in this crowd, just outside the Grand Bazaar. I'm in there, really:



Street food rocks, and my inner Anthony Bourdain was kicking in, so we tracked down some roasted corn and a kebab before wandering through the castle grounds:





May 3rd
We'd tried to procure a decent tour of the Asian side of Istanbul (the city sits on both sides of the Bosphorus river, and its the only city to span two continents!), and locked one in for Sunday. Before departure, we hustled over to the Spice Bazaar, which was rumored to smell like a dream come true. It did. Saffron and cinnamon and henna and cumin and curry...swoon.

yup, those are leeches being sold right next to chicks and fertilizer

Next, we hit the Blue Mosque, and even went inside. Since we had to remove our shoes before entering, the place reeked of feet. Ick. It was gorgeous, though. The lamps hang low, since in ancient times, they burned oil, which doesn't put off much light. So, rather than pump up the amount of oil burned, they put the oil closer to the eyeballs. Smart.





Our afternoon tour took us on a bus ride to PierreLotti hill, named after a famous French poet who lived in Istanbul. The cafe situated at the top has an amazing view, and Rob bought a gooey sugary concoction that tasted like melted gummy bears on a stick:



Then, a tour by boat took us up and down the Bosphorus River and along the Golden Horn. Although our "English-speaking guide" told us all about the palaces and bridges, I couldn't understand a word he said. All I caught was that there are two sides, on two continents...cool.

Last stop of the day was a rad underground cistern, used in ancient days to hold the city's water supply. A few of the support columns included parts of sculptures in (I need to look this up...sorry) that were Medusa heads.


May 4th
We woke bright and early for our flight to Athens, then Santorini, and encountered no incidents getting to the airport. I'd been suuuuuper anxious all morning, but couldn't place my feelings. I had an icky spot in the pit of my stomach as we got breakfast. Still, couldn't figure it out. I felt a bit jittery sitting at the gate waiting for our flight. I figured it out when the signage mentioned our delayed plane. I further figured it out when I realized that we would miss our connecting flight to Santorini due to said delay. A two hour trip turned into a twelve hour trip. Great, and screw you too, Olympic Airlines.

Overall opinion: To this moment, I still am completely unsure about how I feel about Istanbul. Some parts and some people were beautiful, genuinely friendly, and happy. Other parts and other people were smug, deceptive, and conniving. Will I miss being hollered at from every direction to sample a menu or buy something? Nope. Will I miss the scent of the Spice Bazaar? Yeah. Will I miss the kind folks who sold us street food? Yes. I just can't get a true feel for the place...