Where No Tourist Has Gone Before

Today was a day that I made my mother proud and failed.  

Josh and I had an extra, free day in Istanbul and had planned to head out of the city to Rumeli Castle.  Rumeli Castle is a fortress on the European side of the Bosphorus.  It was built by Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II between 1451 and 1452 just before he conquered Constantinople.  Along with the fortress just across the water on the Asian side, it allowed him to conquer Constantinople.  The fortification used to be called the "Straight Cutter" (in reference to the Bosphorus Strait, which was "cut off" to prevent reinforcements or supplies from aiding the city), but its name in Turkish can also mean the "Throat Cutter", a reference to the imminent pillaging of Constantinople.  How Sultan Mehmed II managed to build a giant fortification with obvious malicious intent without causing severe panic among and preemptive action by the Byzantines is beyond me.  But it provides beautiful ruins to explore.  Or it would if we could ever get there.

We had searched online for the best way to get there and found three possibilities: (1) hire a taxi, (2) take a tram and then a bus along the coast, or (3) take a ferry most of the way and then hope to catch it back at exactly the right moment.  We decided to take the tram and then bus, because they run quite often and we were less likely to get stranded.  Everything worked perfectly: we got off the tram and right onto the correct bus.  We chatted with our bus driver and he said he would show us when to get off.  Forty-five minutes into what should have been a 30-minute ride, we realized that our bus driver had either forgotten or had no idea which stop was correct.  We asked again and he said to get off at the next stop... but when we disembarked and started talking to locals, we realized that Rumeli Castle was certainly not within walking distances.  Though we eventually figured out how to get to the castle, we also realized that most of the day was already gone and we would rather just wander the city.  Plus, the bus ride out along the coastline had been so incredibly beautiful that it was worth all the trouble.  We passed that "Versailles of Turkey" again, as well as wonderful historical pictures displayed along gates, seafront parks, quiet harbors filled with boats, and promenades filled with hundreds of strolling school children on fieldtrips.  

Seeing another part of Istanbul (if this suburban, hour-outside-the-downtown part can be called Istanbul) was also a great experience.  The same sort of alleyway markets were everywhere, the doner pitas were even cheaper, and there was a steady hum of everyday life.  It was nice to see which parts of our Istanbul experience had been colored by tourism and which were somewhat authentic.  

We boarded our bus home, sitting by the window for the best views, and ended up chatting with an older American gentleman who, in his semi-retirement, is returning to his liberal arts roots and teaching a course comparing Turkish and American historical themes.  He thought we were local students because he couldn't believe any tourists would have made it that far out of the main city.  He had originally lived in Turkey to write his PhD dissertation, had wandered through Europe as an academic, had a life as a Wall Street businessman, returned to Turkey to start its first investment bank, lived in various countries raising children and helping manage businesses, and eventually returned to the US to live on a small farm in Charlottesville, VA.  What a life, right?  His children have definitely been influenced by their international upbringing, marrying expats from around the globe (and having Romanian dance troupes at their weddings).  Plus, he has a group of friends that is tight-knit despite being scattered far and wide, providing him homes-away-from-home wherever he goes.  In his long emails to his family, he calls himself the Bard of Byzantium, though I think Bard of the Bosphorus has a better ring.  Anyway, fascinating guy.  The bus ride flew by and we learned a lot about his experiences living abroad in various countries.  Perhaps my retirement will be that exciting?  I guess I better actually get a job first.

After we made our way back, we wandered the streets of the "new city" once more.  This time, given the 60-degree heat and sparkling sunlight, the city had come alive.  Istiklal Avenue was overflowing not only with tourists but from the strangest variety of street musicians I had ever seen in one place.  Clarinetists played just down the block from a man on bongo drums.  The two biggest draws were a group with dreadlocks (we think the dreadlocks were more of a hit than their music) and pairs of men dressed in stereotypical Native American dress.  

We have no idea if these men were actually Native Americans (seems unlikely), but there were an awful lot of them on the street. It was a great day just to walk around and see what caught our eye.

Reflections on the trip and questions for the universe:

(1) Why does the stack of meat at the doner stands always taper at the bottom?

(2) All cities should use scaffolding covers that show what the renovated building will look like.

(3) How does Istanbul have Popeyes delivery men and Baltimore does not?

(4) Definitely get an Istanbulkart (Istanbul Card).  You can share it among up to 5 people and it pays for itself within about 3 trips.  Plus, sometimes the token machines hate you and reject a random sampling of your coins the first 5 times, making you miss the tram.

Bye bye, Istanbul.  It's been real.

Spotted: These little minibuses fill the gaps in public transportation, taking passengers to a variety of destinations.  They actually predate public transportation and used to be one of the few options (besides taking your own car) if you wanted to get around.  After the government invested in public transportation infrastructure, they were pushed out of the cities, but they still seem to thrive on the outskirts of the city in the residential areas.