Storms on the Black Sea

« Return to Turkey

The “seven-hour” bus back to Istanbul was crawling in thick traffic, and I looked at my watch to see the ten-hour mark approaching. Kids travel free if they sit on laps, and there seemed to be a lot of kids restlessly fed up with Lap Class. After finishing my book, listening to music and working out a circus of animal forms to create with my hands, I was eagerly looking forward to Istanbul. It had been over three weeks since I left, and now I knew where to stay, what to do, where to eat. It’s a different trip arriving in a city and knowing something for a change. I felt the same confidence in Rio and Lima. That being said, the shuttle from the bus station to Sultanahmet didn’t materialize so I had to hit the Metro and tram and make my own way. Didn’t phase me, and with the Hat of Harassment firmly in my bag, nobody was bothering me either. It doesn’t take too long to figure things out wherever you are, it’s just a pity that I seem to leave just as soon as I do. It was already 10pm by the time I strolled into Sultanahmet, with the Hagia Sofia and Blue Mosque spectacularly lit up like rocket ships. I chanced upon a Whirling Dervish, spinning like a top on a restaurant stage. A mystical order of Islam, Whirling Dervishes spin to enter a trance and get closer to God, and restaurants have been quick to capitalize on this unusual spectacle to attract customers. Standing outside the low fence with the other peasant tourists, I was getting dizzy so moved on.

I took these last few days in Istanbul to visit some of stuff I missed, such as Galata Tower and the Grand Bazaar. Although it was built in the 5th century, you reach the top of the Galata Tower in a modern elevator, paying top dollar for the view. “They charge for everything!” says Wil, an exasperated traveller from Canada. They charge because they know people will pay, especially cruise ship passengers. Anyway, it’s hard to let it bother you when you stare out over Istanbul, as majestic a city as you can imagine.

Later I went to the enormous Grand Bazaar, where hundreds of stores are lined up selling pretty much the same thing - carpets, textiles, souvenirs, jewelry and pipes. I bought myself a good luck charm but was disappointed when the guy didn’t want to haggle. On the streets outside were a large number of gun shops, with rifles and automatics displayed in the window. It reminded me of Paraguay, except nobody was touching me. I loved the guys selling the knock-off yellow Livestrong wristbands, the Lance Armstrong cancer charity project. It says so much about human beings that we would buy cheap knock-off wristbands so that it only looks like we gave to charity, when in fact we saved a buck and bought it at the market. I’ve seen every knock off you can imagine on this trip ≠ from clothes and sunglasses to appliances and ammunition - charity wristbands are a new one.

And thus ends the Turkish leg of Modern Gonzo. It’s a country I would come back to, preferably with a car and a bigger budget. The people are warm, the food was great, the landscapes diverse and beautiful, and, on the eve of further EU negotiations, it feels like the country is at a critical juncture in its history. “It’s inspiring to see a secular Muslim state work so well,” says Khalid, a young Saudi traveller who now lives in Beirut. Inspiration and contrasts in the land where west meets east. East I go then, off to Dubai.

Bauhaus Hostel
Istanbul, Turkey

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