Friday, April 13, 2012

Istanbul, not Constantinople (part 1)

My dear darling readers, you have been so patient and I have been so lazy. I apologize for keeping you waiting and now I will set down the story of Istanbul.

Friday, 30/3:
+ We arrived in the evening and took a taxi (taksi) to our hostel, the Taksim Lounge in Taksim Square, pretty much the other side of the city from the airport.

+ Taksim Lounge looks kind of sketchy on the outside (it's a faded, cracked pale blue hidden in a corner a couple streets off the main roads), but it is a wonderful, magical place. Headed by a man named Engin, it's only been open 4 months and is a bit of a family affair, with Engin pretty much living on site and his brother taking the night role, except for when we got there. (He was studying for an exam.) Engin is amazing, a force of nature. He survives on three hours of sleep, is always helpful and will get you whatever you need, he keeps us fed and full of Turkish tea or coffee. He deserves the great reviews he got online. And the people I met there were fascinating: Jen and Lucy, two friends from British Columbia and Australia respectively, who were traveling during hols; James, an English guy, who seemed to be best friends with them even though they'd only just met; Stephen, an Australian man who was basically working his way around the world. He'd spent the past two months doing China and Southeast Asia, was in Turkey for a week or so, then off to Eastern Europe and finally ending in the UK.

+ We asked Engin where the best, cheapest Turkish food was and he gave us directions to a delicious place. Not a seven-course meal with cushions and tea and bellydancers (like the Moroccan place we went to in DC a few years ago), but a restaurant where Turkish people actually eat. The term authentic is usually used for restaurants like the one in DC, to give the appearance of confirmation, that this is how it usually goes down in such a place. Not really. Most of the places we found in Istanbul, even if they were nicer, were sort of buffet style (buffet behind glass, anyway; you pointed at what you wanted), and wonderfully cheap. About 10 liras would get you heaping platefuls of delicious food. I was expecting it to be spicier, but that's me.

Saturday, 31/3:

+ I had hoped to go on a guided tour of the city, Byzantine and Ottoman Relics, but that didn't happen. So we had decided to do a big tour of Sultanahmet (Old City, the area with all the big pieces), but we didn't move fast enough to do everything I wanted. This upset me a little at the time, but traveling is a learning experience and I still had a good day.

+ We made it over the bridge to the Spice Bazaar first. It's smaller than the Grand Bazaar, but we still spent hours and hours in it. It's exactly what it sounds like, a looong enclosed hallway with stalls crammed up against each other selling spices and tea and Turkish Delight (which is delicious, omg). I'll let you in on a little secret: I bought a bunch of Turkish tea for my daddy and I and to be split amongst the aunts. So there, I was hoping to keep it a surprise, but you guys have been patient with me.

+ After the Spice Bazaar, we found our way through the crowded streets (when I say crowded, I don't mean Saratoga when the track is open; I mean, there is nowhere to move because of the crush of people and stalls.), stopping occasionally to look at this or that. Lucy and Jen told me to find the pomegranate guy, which I didn't understand until we found one. You know orange juicers? Where you put the orange in and squeeze and squish, goes the orange and out comes your orange juice? Well, he did that (the other girls had a combination orange-pomegranate juice, but I just wanted the pomegranate) and it was so cool to watch. One 5 lira glass of pomegranate juice took 4 pomegranates. (And that is probably the most times I've ever had to spell pomegranate in one go.)

+ And then the Grand Bazaar, which is one of the two things I most wanted to do in the city. Ohmygoodness, it was pretty! And absolutely massive. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, other than a giant place full of people selling things and pretty painting on the ceiling. And it was just that, but so much more. You know how we have the Mall of America, that temple of material consumption? I feel like this is the Turkish version, but with such much more history behind it. It has the history of hundreds of years of this tradition; this is how so many people make their living. And the cultural tradition of haggling!

+ Three things that happened at the Grand Bazaar: I was given a picture for free; I haggled a 10 lira bracelet of the eye down to 5 lira and haven't taken it off since; we were given free tea.

The first one probably requires the most explanation. Wandering through the stalls, the girls were stuck on the jewelry. I was looking for a simple talisman bracelet, just a sturdy string with the eye on it that I could wear around and not feel too much like a tourist, so I passed by stall after stall after a cursory glance while they poured over the silver and shiny. I just so happened to pass a stall selling prints of calligraphy, old maps, old paintings. Beautiful. I said as much to the guy who was selling and I often get very enthusiastic about things I like, so I could tell I was grinning and looking around in wonder. He asked where I was from (almost every seller that we conversed with asked that) and I said the States and he said I was a lot sweeter than most of the Americans. "They come in like this" (he posed with a frown and crossed his arms over his chest), "but you are not. You're much sweeter." Which was a very nice thing to say, even if it might have been a flattery technique to get me to buy. He then said, "May I give you a gift?" To which I obviously replied, "Sure!" He handed me a small print, about letter size. Calligraphy, or whatever the equivalent is in drawing; it was a ink drawing of a dervish in the middle of whirling. Probably the best free thing I've ever received.

+ After the Bazaars, we ate and then needed to go. Unfortunately, the public bathrooms were squatting toilets. I don't know if you've ever experienced that, but it is awkward.

+ Found Sultanahment, walked around the Blue Mosque, which was stunning! Especially in the late afternoon light.

+ There was another guy Lucy and Jen talked about, the "honey guy" between Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, in Sultanahment Square. Oh goshhhhhh. He wraps warmed and flavored honey around each other into a candy on a stick. SO good.

+ Back to the hostel via a long, long, long way up. So many stairs.

+ The best food I had in Istanbul was that night, at like 9.30. It was a kebab in gyro-like sauce (it's not tzatki, but similar) in a wrap and it was 7 lira and I was so happy. We tried the drinkable yogurt and that was not so good.

+ After chilling at the hostel for a few hours, we went out to a hookah bar with Lucy and Jen. I thought it looked kind of sketchy on the outside, but it was part of a hotel, so it was a very swanky hookah bar. And no, don't worry, we didn't do pot or hasish. What we did was shisha, and we got a mix of apple and mint flavors and it was weird at first, but I got the hang of it after a little while and it was fun.

+ After that, we went to find the "mussels guy." Yes, it was a mussels seller on the street after midnight and yes, I had some (1 lira for two) and yes, I found it delicious. Mostly because I couldn't taste the seafoodness. There was rice and spices and he covered it in lemon juice and it was nummy.

+ We hung out till 2, when I went to take a shower and go to bed. Bri and Eberly went to bed around 3 but Aimee, Lucy and Jen went out to a couple bars and clubs and didn't get back till 6.30 or so.

Next up, Sunday!

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