September 6-9, 2008

What I remember most about Istanbul were the countless domes and minarets of mosques. As we drove through the city they seemed to sprout up from every direction, each one larger and more impressive than the last. We kept looking for the most famous, the Hagia Sophia, finally thinking we’d spotted it only to be met with yet another glorious dome.

We flew into Sabiha Gökçen Airport, which unbeknownst to us is situated in the Asian part of Turkey and is over an hour outside of Istanbul. As our transport relentlessly chugged along I began to seriously wonder if we’d gotten on the wrong bus and were instead heading deep into Asia Minor. That would have been an interesting adventure, but at last we reached the city . . . only to be rather dismayed by the rough areas our bus passed through.

Our hostel, however, was located in a beautiful part of town very close to the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, and Topkapi Palace. Of course it was lovely because it was the touristy area; is it very bad that sometimes I prefer the glossy surface presented to foreigners instead of stark realism? I love traveling but not at the expense of safety or all comfort.

I think in Istanbul we got a good mix of both realism and tourism. For one, no matter what area of the city you’re in Turkish men call out and come on to women incessantly. It very much reminded me of my visit to Mexico four years before, though with more actual attempts at conversation and less whistling. Amusingly, and to our continual bafflement, the question Megan and I received most frequently was “Are you twins? No? Sisters?” We may have essentially the same haircut but otherwise we look nothing alike. And yet we heard this from multiple different men every day. After about the 8th time it just became hilarious.

Our trip in September also coincided with the month of Ramadan, which gave the whole visit a unique spin. During the day the neighborhood was fairly quiet except for tourists, but the instant darkness fell masses of Turkish families appeared to socialize and picnic on the grounds between the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. And the first two nights we were startled awake about 4 a.m. by a man wandering the streets banging a drum. The first time as I fuzzily tried to comprehend what was happening – “Wait, there’s a guy down there? And he’s really banging a drum??” I figured it had to be a drunk reveler. But after the second time, we realized he was acting as a town crier: drumming the townspeople awake an hour before sunrise so they would have time to eat. Wild! Talk about a literal wake-up call that one is in a predominantly Muslim country.

Our hostel offered free breakfast every morning, fabulous Turkish breakfasts of olives, feta cheese, hard-boiled eggs, fresh bread with jam, watermelon, and sweet coffee. They served it on the roof overlooking the Straits of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn, the inlet that further divides Istanbul. I loved sitting on that dazzlingly sunny terrace, savoring watermelon and feta along with the incredible view.

With all the major landmarks within easy walking distance of course we spent most of our time sight-seeing. The Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque were just as breathtaking as could be expected. They’re so huge and so very ancient, far, far older than any famous structure I’d ever seen before. Walking through them brought back vivid memories of my Roman History professor raving about his many trips to Istanbul and what incredible pieces of history the mosques are. When I was dutifully taking notes in Lecture Hall C I little imagined that I would be traversing the same ground as my professor only three years later.

I think Megan and I are agreed that our favorite bit of exploration was the Basilica Cistern. You walk down, down, down stone steps that become ever more polished and slippery, into the dank, humid air of a huge cavern supported by dozens of stone pillars. Nearly the only sources of illumination were the lamps shining up through the water at the base of each pillar; it was a dark, shadowy, secretive place, with dim echoes and watery reflections shimmering off the walls. Two special pillars each had a massive carved head of Medusa at the base, green with centuries of algae.

Topkapi Palace didn’t disappoint, either. The grounds and outbuildings are lovely but the real gem is the old Harem Quarters. The rich detail present throughout the entire complex of twisting halls and salons and courtyards – gold filigree, tiled mosaics, wood inlay, stained glass, swirling Arabic script – was gorgeous beyond belief. There was just so much to see. I took photo after photo but I don’t think I came close to capturing the beautiful essence of the place.

During the evenings we enjoyed eating outdoors at the many lovely little restaurants around the decorative streets, and afterward repairing to the bright cushions and carpets of a café that offered crisp mint shisha. On our last night I sprang for raki, essentially the official drink of Turkey. I was unaware that raki is flavored with anise. I couldn’t get past the first sip of the cloudy pale-blue beverage. It was like drinking liquefied black licorice; the taste was absolutely overpowering. I have no idea how Turkish men and women happily gulp it down – but I am very much impressed.