Formerly known as Byzantium, then as Constantinople, and now as Istanbul, the city lies half in Asia and half in Europe. With its roasted chestnut stalls and coffeeshops, Istanbul sometimes feels like Paris. Its narrow streets with patios and trams feel like Amsterdam. But its forest of minarets, shoarma stands and water pipes give it a distinct Middle Eastern feel. Mosques dominate the skyline and the call to prayer twirls out of many minarets, swirling its haunting tunes over the rooftops. Women wear burkas or tight leather pants, hiking boots or high heels. You can buy roasted corn or a Starbucks. Istanbul is a meeting place of east and west. It is the only city in the world that sits on two continents!
Every coin has two sides. So does the city of Istanbul. On one side there are gorgeous, historic mosques, palaces, city walls and towers. The Grand Bazaar is one of my favourite places to saunter around, sip tea, sniff spices. Here you can buy a fez, a hookah or the freshest Turkish Delight in the world.
But Istanbul is also endless traffic jams, modern skyscrapers and overcrowded Metros. I enjoyed buying an Istanbul card which allows you to travel on subways, trams and busses by simply scanning the card. It’s always a fun challenge to figure out how to buy such a card in a foreign city, how to upload money on it and then use it.
The other challenge, of course, is figuring out where you’re going…. But with a subway map and a good sense of direction, I get exactly where I want to be. Besides, many people are very kind and helpful here. One young man wanted to speak English and asked how he could help. Other times people point me in the right direction, smiling and always helpful. We arrived at one of Istanbul’s two airports: Sabiha Gökçen. It is about an hour out of town and in Asia. Our hotel had quoted us 70 euros for airport transportation. I just about choked. But after some internet research (Trip Advisor) I found a hotel shuttle for 10 euros p.p.. They met us upon arrival with a large name sign and brought us to our hotel. It is good to know, when traveling to Istanbul, that the OTHER airport, Atatürk, is 20 minutes away and in Europe. Be sure to double check at which airport you will arrive and depart. In our case we arrived at one but will depart from the other. Tricky. Halfway between the airport and the city we crossed a large bridge over the Bosporus. I spotted a sign along the road saying “Welcome to Europe!”
My book Stepping Stones came out in Turkish.
This time I’m in Turkey to work at a Turkish school where children learn English. I do book talks and writing workshops all day, but have the weekends and evenings to explore. What makes this trip even more fun is that my friend and colleague, children’s book author David Greenberg, is here too. On Sunday, when there’s no school, we take the Metro, a funicular and a tram into the old city. There, we walk around the Grand Bazaar, the Blue Mosque, the Haga Sofia and charming old cobblestone streets of an ancient city that once was called Constantinople. On the conjunction of the Bosporus and the Sea of Marmara, we stroll along ancient city walls, ferry terminals and one of the busiest waterways in the world, watching little tug boats plowing alongside huge freighters.
I used Turkey to show how children there go to school in Schooldays Around TheWorld.
The vendors drink tea all day.
Sultanahmet, or old Istanbul, is the medieval city centre, a mixture of Asia and Europe. And it is full of shops. The best place for shopping: the Grand Bazaar which is more than than just little shops. The enormous, ancient bazaar is all indoors - covered by arched ceilings. Its little alley ways crisscross into a labyrinth where you can get lost for hours. Vendors sip tea from tiny glasses in their doorways. Their displays include sparkling silver, hand painted china, woven rugs, cheap t-shirts, dangling blue eyes made of glass that are supposed to ward off evil. There are water pipes for sale and for rent. You can eat fresh bread or drink fruit juice, Turkish coffee or Turkish delight. The market's stone floors have been worn smooth over the ages, stone steps hollowed out by the millions of feet that have shuffled here. I am thrilled with the hotel Kees and I booked via the internet. It is often a gamble and difficult to judge. Angel’s Home is in the old city Sultanahmet. Its crooked, narrow streets and hills remind me of Mont Martre in Paris but its atmosphere is distinctly Middle Eastern with many cafe’s and patios along the streets, fruit stands, water pipes, and twinkling lights.
The Spice Market
Across town, past the many mosques, minarets and domed roofs of palaces, is the Spice Market - a feast for the eyes and nose. In this labyrinth of alleys, all covered, you can find baskets and mountains of cinnamon, curry, peppers of all color, dried rosebuds and sage. There are many different kinds of tea, cumin and rosemary. You can buy, and smell, dried apricots, dried octopus and dates. After a while: sensory overload. Add to this the fact that the vendors yell and praise their wares. They invite you to come in, try this, buy that! And you have to barter. It's exhausting... but exhilarating.
We enjoyed Turkish coffee along a tiny alley, seated on cushions where kissing was not allowed! Then we found the old train station and feasted on warm bread with melted cheese. We goggled at so many breads, dripping honey combs, warmly coloured fruit juices. And everywhere are cats. Istanbul is a city where cats reign.
No kissing in public!
The language is fascinating. While I don’t understand a word, I can figure out some of the signs: Taksi. Banki. Müsezi. It almost seems Finnish to me some times…
From our hotel in the old city, Kees and I love to stroll along the Bosporus. One day I decide to be brave and experience a Turkish bath! They advertise everywhere and, since I love Asian massages, I decide to give it a try. The bath people even offer a free ride from and back to your hotel. When the van picked me up, there were already two British ladies on board. I figured correctly that we would get to know each other intimately. The first half hour was spend stuck in traffic in the narrow streets of Sultanahmet, or old Istanbul. Fruit carts, delivery vans and buses were stuck in a solid knot while drivers snoozed, honked or swore in Turkish.
The public bath house, or hamam, built in 1475, was shaped like a mosque with many domes. The marble entry hall had two storey-high wooden change room structures for men. The women's bath was off through another hallway under another marble dome with similar change rooms. The two English ladies and I were ushered into a very small room and told to strip naked. We were each handed a cotton strip of fabric, which I hoped to be the size of a table cloth. It actually was the size of a small table runner. I tried pulling and tugging but it stayed the size of a small table runner… Then we were led into a sauna. A small, very hot sauna with cedar benches and a glowing fire. At first I didn't think I could breathe. But once I relaxed it was fine. I sat until sweat poured freely from my spontaneously gasping pores. 'My' masseuse summoned me. I tried to look dignified, but all sweaty and wrapped only in a handkerchief, this was hard to do. She instantly unwrapped me, spread my cloth like a place mat on a huge marble slab in the centre of the room, and ordered me to lay down on it. I felt like a piece of meat on a butcher block… She proceeded to pour warm water over me, before bringing out the heavy artillery in the shape of a sandpaper glove. It wasn't as bad as I had feared and actually felt quite invigorating.
More warm water was followed by about 6 inches of foam, spread all over me. Soap crawled into my ears and mouth as I was massaged. I flopped around on the marble slab like a slippery bar of soap, trying hard not to slide off and onto the marble floor. Then I was ordered through an arched doorway, up the steps and into another arched dome with a small pool.
"Swim, lady, swim!" my masseuse ordered. I flopped into the water like a slippery trout. Cold! It was icy cold water. But once I decided to endure a Turkish bath, I resigned myself to accept my fate lock, stock and barrel - without complaining. So I swam.
After this I was invited back into the sweat sauna, or to take a nap on the slab of marble. I decided that clothes and tea sounded like the most attractive next step. I felt very clean. And very serene.
Food in Turkey is very important. Even before you get to the country, the clues are there: Turkish Airlines serves a meal with freshly squeezed orange juice, even on a short three hour flight (take note United Airlines!). More than that: when you walk onto the plane there are regular flight attendants but also one dressed like a cook, in white apron and tall white cook’s hat. The airline magazine highlights recipes. A taxi driver told us: “Trust everything on a stick!” (like shish kebabs!)
Each evening I eat at a different, local place: shish kababs, döner (shaved roasted meat), warm thin bread, soft cheese, juicy tomatoes. One night we took another Metro and ventured out to crowded Taksim, a square in a very busy neighbourhood. An endless stream of people walked down the narrow street. Not many beggars to be seen, but some made money by playing music or selling trinkets. Stores included western clothing shops like H&M but also fantastic butcher shops, shops with long strands of something that looked like a skinny sausage but was actually a skin of fruit leather filled with walnuts… And flowers, beautiful flower stalls.
One night was spent over dinner with an old friend and several new ones from the school, in a restaurant called Gazebo. I would have never found it since the entrance was a green pathway, like a little alley next to a house, leading to a most wonderful covered terrace along the banks of the Bosphorus. Not only did we enjoy the great food but the view over the water of bridges and barges, fishes and twinkling lights was amazing. From the European side, we watched the Asian side of this bustling city that straddles two continents. Especially once a full moon cast its path across these fabled waters that connect the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea.
Our favourite BOOKS about Turkey.
Resources:
Airport shuttle: (http://www.istanbulairportshuttle.com/)
Angel’s Home hotel: https://www.angelshomehotel.com/
Restaurant: http://www.gazebo-ist.com/en-index.html
Turkish Bath: http://www.sultanahmethamami.com/
