September, 2012. Sunday. At
an odd time (regarding the day of the week) I and two friends of mine decide to
go to Istanbul for several days. We choose these strange days – from Sunday to
Wednesday, because my fellow travelers are going back to the States after a
week. And I, if you ask most of my friends I am "ailyak" (which
according to the dictionary is an idle person, one at a loose end), so I don't
have a problem with the odd time of the week. We load up in my car, the space
ship or the shark, according to the point of view, and we are off to our destination
– Istanbul, the only city situated on two continents, that is if the Arabs
don't plan to build something similar one day, in which case, it should be read
as the first/original city situated on two continents.
We approach the city,
moreover we are entering into the city, since it is quite large, and start
looking at the navigation for our exit. Something like a premature ejaculation
occurs, since we shoot ourselves from the highway too early. Quite unpleasant.
Back and forth, going twice around an unknown neighborhood, we make it back to
the highway. I won't explain this with any physical function of the body, and
frankly, I don't want to think which one it could be. We find the proper exit
and this time we fire ourselves out of the highway at the right spot. We check
out some hotels and choose one with free parking and wifi. We are in the
Topkapi neighborhood, it's not the famous palace, but still is in the
boundaries of the ancient Constantinople/Istanbul, as we are close to the
defense stone walls. We freshen up, pay for the first night with almost all of
our local money and go out.
After we don't have luck with
the first couple of banks/currency exchange places being closed, the first
unpleasant conclusions start to form in our heads – it is Sunday afternoon and
we have just a couple of Turkish liras, Houston we (gonna) have a problem. We
find a bank with money exchanging ATM, but it doesn't work, or it doesn't like our
dollars. We ask a guy if he speaks English and on his positive answer, ask him
if he knows a working exchange bureau somewhere around. He starts blinking
rapidly his eyes, in which case I know that I have to lower the level of
English – "Bank, somewhere to change money? I'm still getting the
incomprehensible look. Final level of simplification – "Dollars, Turkish
lira, aaa? We see that he understands what we are asking, but despite his
willingness to help us, we won't get any info. We continue looking and soon
find another closed bank with an exchanging ATM, but it also doesn't like our
dollars. Finally, we get some directions about a working bureau, but it's not
close. We decide to use the public transport, but it turns out that we don't
even have enough money for three tickets. Let's not forget, that we are already
hungry. I don’t understand why we gave all of our local money at the hotel,
when we could have used dollars instead. The only time when things could be
more unworkable is if it was some religious holiday like Bayram.
We walk and wonder at
ourselves, we continue to walk and continue to wonder. In a side street kids
are flying, but there are no money exchanges. People have their shoes polished
and we don't have money for a döner kebab and each of us would gladly eat a
döner. With some more directions from the locals we find a working money
exchange and give our unwanted dollars. Having local money we go and exchange
them for döners and airyans (drink made of yogurt) at the closest döner place.
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The street with the flying kids |
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Shine bright like a diamond |
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Fruits and vegetables |
Not worrying any more for our
future, we head out at a slower pace with half closed eyes. Now we have to
sightsee. As I told my friends that I will plan our trip, the others are relying
on me. Not that I prepared over extensively – I uploaded a guide book on my
phone and that's all. During the first half an hour I am a little bit worried,
because I'm not sure where we are, nor I know where we have to go. We pass by
some Historical old bazaar and a large mosque, but I can't find their twins on
the map on my phone. I try not to show that I haven't got a clue where we are
and what we are going to do, and lead confidently my friends … to some street
ahead.
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The historical old bazaar |
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The mosque |
Luckily, we reach Beyazit
Sq., next to which is situated the Istanbul University. I know where this one is
located on the map and the confidence in my traveling abilities starts to
return little by little. Reassured, my photographic inspiration comes back as
well, and my left eye and my right index finger start doing their job – to look
and to push (the button).
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Dumpster full of smiling M&M's |
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At the Beyazit Sq. |
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Colorful
Among the crowd made of locals and tourists, a guy pops out of nowhere and immediately draws my attention.
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My guide book tells me that
we are close to the Grand Bazaar (Kapali Carsi) and I lead our small group
towards it. The people are crowding together, the shopping (alisveris)
intensifies, we are really close.
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Somebody's unfinished lunch |
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Everything is original, my friend |
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Girl dresses, lots of them |
We take on a narrow street,
clogged by people and goods – this should be the Grand Bazaar. However,
something tells me it is not the Bazaar, but we accepted it as the real one. We
make our first purchase, we've broken the bad spell and we should have a great
trip now. While we try to walk though the horn of plenty and all the flies
around (people) we find a small book market. Although there are mainly local
textbooks and books, there are lots of tourists. I find some paintings of
dervishes, those men with long white dresses, that go round a lot, till you
feel dizzy. I give up buying it, since it is strange for me to buy something
from the first shop, figuratively speaking, as if I could find the souvenir or
whatever it is somewhere else at a lower price. In my mind the first one is
always the most expensive. While we continue our walk through the horn of
plenty I notice on our left side a gate with the sign Kapali Carsi, which
confirms that we are at the market, but at the same time something doesn't feel
right, because we are at the end of the street and there are no stores
afterwards. During the next days we will understand that we've been on the
wrong side of the gate.
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The book market |
We go out on one street with
trams passing by, which I find on the map, and get to know even better our
position and our direction. We find another old bazaar, I'm not sure if it is
the 32nd in a row or it's just located on the №32, but these old bazaars are
suspiciously many. We go inside and find the next horn of plenty, this time of
souvenirs. Here, we see for the first time, but not the last, large empty
bottles of water, in which are being collected the caps of plastic bottles.
Till the end of our trip we couldn't solve this Istanbul mystery.
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Corlulu Ali Pasa Medresesi
The 32nd old bazaar.
|
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The blue chair is looking for users |
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In the kitchen |
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Prospective client |
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Lamps, lamps and everything else |
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Bargaining |
We return to the tram street
and head downwards. We visit a small cemetery next to another mosque, which is
full of ailyak cats lying down everywhere. I start thinking about the stray
cats living in the inner court of my apartment block back in Sofia, and that
they should see other parts of the world, and that I should send them to visit
their neighbors from Turkey. One should not stay only at one place its entire
life, it should go and see the wide world and piss/mark at least one foreign
court.
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Cultural clash on the other sidewalk |
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Something that I will have no regret clashing into |
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Corn, maize, "misir" – 1 lira/cob |
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Toward Sultanahmed Sq. |
It is time for a break and we
choose a nice café. Some of us order a Turkish tea, others Turkish coffer and
all of us get small sweet pastries called baklava or baklavichki. We go on the
second floor and find a table next to the street. Suddenly, I manage to pour my
tea onto my lap. And more precisely, my hot tea on my legs, at least I miss
some other limbs of mine.
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The tea man |
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The psychology of the herd |
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Self-portrait on the tram |
Having rested and thoroughly
soaked in tea, we head towards the Blue mosque and Aya Sophia. Just before the
mosque one of us buys a freshly squeezed juice of pomegranate. Then thre three
of us barely manage to drink the small cup of juice, it's that acerbic, your
whole face contorts inwards, as if somebody starts sucking the air from your
body through … some other outlet of the body. We have a look at the Blue mosque
from outside, since we are all inappropriately dressed.
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Mehmet Akif Ersoy Park |
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The Blue mosque |
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Red on black |
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Watermelon on a stick (I'm joking about the stick) |
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A view of Aya Sophia |
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A view of the Blue mosque |
We tell ourselves that we
will visit the two buildings another day and continue walking aimlessly. As the
guide of the group, I am at peace for finding ourselves on the map and now we can
even afford to lose ourselves in the small cobbled streets. With the dusk we
feel that we are pleasantly tired from the first day and head to the tram
station to get back to our hotel and have a rest.
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The blue-yellowish hour 1 |
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The blue-yellowish hour 2 |
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A nocturnal colorful idyll |
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The lamps and the surprised visitor of Café Kybele |
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The keepers of the DHL |
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At the end of the working day |
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