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.

The Sinan Qua Non of Architecture

It seems a bit silly to come all the way to Istanbul and not see the most-visited site, so that's how we started our penultimate day in Istanbul.  We walked over to the Hagia Sofia just as it opened, to appreciate the building that we have admired so many times on our daily strolls.  

The outside of the building is an interesting mix of colors and construction materials, which was quickly explained as we started to read about its history.  This massive structure is actually the third building to sit on this site.  The original was built by Constatitius, but it kept getting burned down in riots.  It seems that the bigger the building, the bigger the riots that it attracted.  After two riots, they apparently learned their lesson and built it entirely out of stone.  About a thousand years later, when the Ottoman empire took over, the Hagia Sofia was converted to a mosque and some repairs were made by the one and only Sinan the architect (of Suleiman Mosque fame) that have enabled it to stand to this day.  The Hagia Sofia remained a mosque until the 1920s, when the one and only Ataturk declared it a museum. Given that there is a major mosque atop each of the seven hills in the city and many others nestled within the side streets, I think that the local residents had sufficient other options.

The Hagia is, like other mosques we visited, a beautiful open space with a giant dome in the middle surrounded by a series of smaller domes.  When the Ottomans seized the city, the Byzantine mosaics were covered over with paint to remove all the depictions of people, angels, and seraphim and enormous discs with Islamic verses were posted at the corners.  Since the Hagia Sofia was converted into a museum, though, quite a few of these mosaics have been uncovered.  They're beautiful, and often the design is similar to that which was painted over it (albeit without the human figures).  The mosaics also include possibly the best medieval depictions of Christian figures I have ever seen.  Take a look at Jesus.  He actually looks like a real, expressive human being.

One of the other parts of the Hagia Sofia that I appreciated was how many types of marble had been incorporated to create a beautiful pattern of colors and textures on the walls.

Marble was brought from hundreds of miles away, from all the surrounding kingdoms in the empire, to construct this enormous church.  They have records of where each color and pattern of marble originated, making this church a testament not only to 4th century architectural mastery but also the increasingly global world two millenia ago.

Other highlights included the omphalion where eastern Roman emperors were crowned, handmade sets of portable stairs that were used to reach the high spaces, the 56.6 m high and 32.6 m wide megadome, and this giant Hellenistic marble jar that was used to distribute sherbet on festival days.  I can totally get behind these quantities of sherbet.

As we walked to our next destination, we fended off eager salesmen of bosphorus cruises.  One of the funnier ones shouted, "It is very romantic!  Like the Titanic.... But without the sinking!"  The heckling definitely gets old, but at least they're funny about it.

Our next stop was the archaeology museum, which consists of three buildings on a single property.  Sadly, about half of the main building was closed for renovation, but we were still able to appreciate the dozens of sculptures arranged in their garden, the numerous sarcophagi (they apparently have an excellent collection), and the thousands of artifacts recovered from nearby archeological sites.  

While Josh and I have been very disappointed at the lack of information available on individual pieces at all of the museums (usually, just a name such as "clay bowl fragment" is offered), this museum did have a wonderful, concise history of the early epics, the depictions of the Trojan War, and how that information has been passed down written at the beginning of the first exhibit.  I was blown away by the influence of Homer.  His history of the Trojan War has been used as justification for the Crusades, a rationale for making Troy a tax-free province, an impetus for rulers to trace their lineage back to Trojan leadership... apparently when the Byzantines were casting about for a capital, they considered Troy before settling on what became Constantinople.  Pretty incredible.  The other striking thing about that exhibit, as we were wandering around looking at Paleolithic art, was how early on people tried to make things beautiful.  They were hunter-gatherers in a period of subsistance living, yet they painted beautiful designs on their pots and bowls.  I guess functionality fails to please without a little bit of beauty.

Our final stop for the day was the Blue Mosque.  We had heard from several friends that this mosque was "overrated" and "overdecorated", but we both loved it.  True, every inch of it is decorated with patterns, colors, and tiles, but it is gorgeous.  The blues are so calming and the interwoven colors and textures of the decorations are seamless.  And look at those windows.

And thus ended another great day.

Spotted #1: We had spotted quite a few dogs with tags in their ears and were curious what that meant.  We learned that dogs are tagged after being vaccinated.  This is how the city of Istanbul is dealing with its enormous stray cat/dog problem.

Spotted #2: It has been interesting to note that at almost all major sites and museums, two dating systems are used: the Christian and Islamic calendars.  I realized how much I take the Christian calendar (i.e. BC and AD) for granted.  Occasionally, only the Christian calendar date is used, but the majority of the sites provide both.

Spotted #3: You can buy a Topkapi Dagger replica at the Hagia Sofia.  It's 10,000TL (about $4,000).  Palace not included.

(Also, how great is Josh's expression in that photo?)

The 99.999999%

Today, I learned that childbearing used to be a race with the grand prize of having a pretty fantastic amount of power over other people's lives... and it prevented you from getting kicked out of your house.  At least, that's how things were at Topkapi Palace among the wives and "favorites" of the sultan.  The woman who produced the first heir eventually became the Sultan Mother, and for at least two centuries of Ottoman history, these women held far more power than the sultans themselves.  This is attributed to (and potentially caused) the laziness and dimwittedness of many of the sultans during this era, but it's still pretty interesting that the Sultan Mother did everything but wage war.

As you may have guessed, we explored the Topkapi Palace today, seeing how the 0.000001% lived and feeling very much like the 99.999999%.  Why no, I don't have 1,000-piece sets of china from Sevres given to me as gifts.  I also don't own an 86-carat diamond (known as the Spoonmaker's Diamond for its fabled discovery story), the supposed sword of David (as in, biblical David), or a giant to-scale replica of the Dome of the Rock made entirely out of mother-of-pearl.  Sadly, I was not allowed to take pictures of any of these things, but you'll have to take my word for it that all gems were enormous; there were a whole lot of relics that pretty much covered the Who's Who of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam; and the things that sultans had bedazzled bordered on the absurd.

The Topkapi Palace is an enormous complex that began as a single, fairly modest palace (as palaces go), since the ruler at the time felt that decadence would be against his religious beliefs.  Each successive sultan added a room or a building for the next 400 years or so, resulting in a sprawl of bulidings in every architectural style, often constructed to celebrate a particular military victory or house a particular ceremony (i.e. the Circumcision Room, which I hope wasn't used more often than was necessary).  As you enter the complex, you first reach the First Courtyard.  This open space is deceptive; it used to be crowded with wooden buildings until they all burned down.  It still houses the Hagia Irene (Irene Church), which we did not explore, but is mostly just a beautiful and quiet place to walk.  Next, you buy tickets to enter the complex proper, which consists of the Second and Third Courtyards and their buildings.  

Once in the second courtyard, Topkapi Palace is your oyster.

Since we got there early and beat the crowds, we went to all the most popular places first to avoid inevitable lines.  We started with the harem.  Whenever you hear about this harem, guides are quick to point out that real life deviated from fantasy (when does it not?).  The sultan only slept with his wives and a very small, select group of the concubines.  The rest were sort of just... there and apparently were often released after a few years.  There was apparently a very strict structure in the harem, which was ruled by the Sultan Mother.  In fact, she basically got to pick which people her son slept with and married.  The harem was guarded by eunuchs and is a beautifully tiled labyrinth.  

It holds small mosques, long corridors, small squares, sleeping quarters, rows of faucets for ablutions, and then the lavish quarters of the Sultan Mother.  I'm pretty sure that this is from the Sultan Mother's quarters, but I have literally thought about the beauty of these windows since I was here four years ago, and they were equally stunning now.

  

Obviously, the photo does not do them justice, but they are the most perfect shade of aquamarine.  The harem also connects into the living quarters, privy, and ceremonial rooms of the sultan himself.  Imagine celebrating in this kind of style:

Anyway, the beautiful tiling of the harem is definitely one of my favorite parts of Topkapi Palace.  Next, we stopped by the treasury and the relic rooms, which I mentioned at the beginning of my post.  The wealth of the elite several hundred years ago was absurd.  I can't even imagine what birthdays were like. Did they celebrate birthdays?  Anyway, the sheer number of precious stones they crammed onto things was impressive.  You could notice how jewelry has improved over the years, though, particularly the ability to cut stones so that they reflect the light.

Next, we roamed the other rooms that were gradually added to the palace, like this one:

We also stopped by the various fountains, looked at an incredible number of decorative spoons, and pondered whether the bowls lined with rubies were just for show - I mean, what if one came loose and you chomped down on it?

As we left the palace, the midday call to prayer was just beginning.  We realized that it was done as a sort of conversation between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia - the call would alternate between the two buildings' spires.  We wandered back toward the main square by the Blue Mosque to check out the Hippodrome and a few other ancient structures, or at least what is left of them.  The hippodrome was built by the Roman Emperor Septimius Severus toward the end of the 2nd century and then extended by Constantine the Great.  It could seat between thirty and sixty thousand people, depending on which archaeologist you ask, and was the main attraction in Roman and Byzantine times.  It hosted chariot races, gladiator fights, musicians, dancers, and other public celebrations.  Successful chariot drivers were fabulously wealthy, could have anything they wanted, and were supported by clubs that quarrelled endlessly and jockeyed for position.  As Josh put it, chariot drivers were the NBA players of their day.  Today, only a small portion of the Hippodrome exists, and it is encased in glass at the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Art.  The rest was hauled away to build private homes, of which remain small patches of ruins.  

 

(This path used to be the Hippodrome track)

The other ancient structures were the obelisk and the serpent column.  The obelisk is from 1490 BC and was hauled here from Egypt.  The official posting offers the best description ever: "In the 4th century AD, an unknown Roman emperor who wanted to accomplish something impressive that would create excitement among his people had the colossal obelisk brought to Istanbul."  Ouch.  Way to forget his name and gloss over his accomplishments.  I mean, the thing is 25.6 meters tall.  That's like moving one of the moai from Easter Island, or one of those giant stones from Stonehenge.

The serpent column was also stolen; it was originally at the Temple of Apollo in Delphi and was brought here in 324 by Constantine to stand in the middle of the Hippodrome.  Three intertwined serpents held a giant gold cauldron on their heads, but sadly the heads (and cauldron?) disappeared around 1700.

Since we were in the mood for historic art, we stopped by the Turkish and Islamic Art Museum.  We saw art from a variety of early Islamic nations, including a large number of beautiful illuminated manuscripts (a personal favorite).  The museum also holds the Damascus Documents, which represent one of the first written copies of the Qur'an.  There were a variety of other media, like sculpted wood, pottery, lamps, etc, all decorated with Arabic writing (presumably verses of the Qur'an).  Some were incredibly beautiful, especially the painted lamps.  There were a few pieces of art depicting people as well as some small sculptures of animals - I guess they didn't get the memo that such art is discouraged.  The exhibits also contained Keys to the Kabba, a sort of key-to-the-city to the holiest place in Mecca.  However, the majority was decorated in the typical Islamic style.  It did get a little bit repetitive, to be honest, but was still beautiful.  Near the end, there was a series of beautiful carpets and some beautiful furniture, all more modern than the previous exhibits.  It was a nice overview of art across the nearby regions.  My personal favorite from the entire museum was this astrolabe:

An astrolabe is a very ancient astronomical computer for solving problems relating to time and the position of the sun and stars in the sky.  The celestial sphere is projected onto the plane of the equator.  It also looks awesome.  Doesn't it just beg to be taken on an adventure?

Exhausted from a long day on our feet, we headed back to the hotel.  But there was one last surprise waiting for us.  A farmer's market!  I'm not sure how often this happens, but definitely take a look at the end of Gelinik Street on Wednesdays if you're ever in the city.  Gorgeous produce - including the freshest, happiest-looking eggplants I have ever seen - was lined up along the tables.  We gleefully picked out some produce and happily muched the whole way home.

Chocklava

If you need to exchange cash in Istanbul, there are many places to do it. However, the fairness of these exchanges varies dramatically based on where you are in the city.  The airport exchange is relatively fair, but they charge a large commission on top of everything (4%).  The exchanges near Sultanahmet are incredibly unfair (20 lira cent (?) spread between buy and sell prices), while those dotted around the city vary.  From our (limited) experience, some of the exchanges at the Grand Bazaar seem to have the best rates.  We found one offering $1 to 2.60TL, and when we went this morning, they actually gave us a higher price than the one listed outside their shop.  Anyway, next time I come this will definitely be where I exchange money.

Going to the bazaar when it opened (9 am) was such a pleasant experience.  We had expected to be in and out but found ourselves slowing down and amiring wares.  Why?  Because all of the shop owners were enjoying their breakfasts, sipping the tea that was brought directly to them by a small army of wandering waiters (unlike in the US, these waiters will walk several blocks throughout the city delivering food and tea around mealtimes) and catching up.  

Not a single person shouted "where you from?", tried to maneuver us into their shop, or even seemed to notice our presence.  It was oddly magical.  Josh and I turned to comment on this at the same time, and just then the first vendor finished his food, stood up, and said "Please, miss, mister, come into my shop.  I have beautiful scarves."  The magic was gone, and with a laugh we made our way back outside.

Today's agenda involved a lot of walking, starting in the heart of Sultanahmet, crossing the Galata Bridge, and exploring the new city on the other side of the Golden Horn.  Our first stop was the Rüstempasa Mosque (Rüstempasa Camii).  Built in 1560, it was designed by Mimar Sinan (just like the Suleiman Mosque) and has semi-domes surrounding a main dome.  It is one of the most embellished mosques of the Ottomans.  The mosque was destroyed by the cumulative effect of earthquakes and fires, but it was repaired in the mid-1990s and is now offers a brief respite from the noise of the city.  Unlike the Suleiman mosque, though, the Rüstempasa Mosque is rather hard to find.  It's very close to the waterfront and the spice market, yet its entrance is an inconspicuous doorway off a side alley.  We realized that we had walked by it a half dozen times already, never noticing the humble placard nailed to the arched doorway.

It was certainly beautiful, and we were grateful to have the recommendation to stop by from a friend who had previously visited Istanbul.  Hurray for crowdsourcing your travel itinerary!

Next, we walked the Galata bridge toward the new city, curious to see whether the "modern Istanbul" was all it was cracked up to be.  We passed even more fishermen, creating a sea of undulating fishing rods as they tensed and slackened their lines.  If you look closely, you may notice an L-shaped piece of wood with a triangle cut out of each end.  Every fisherman had one of these, as well as a bungee cord to hold it in place, as a fishing pole rest (for when they'd grown tired of waving their poles about, I guess).

On the other side of the bridge, we huffed up some hills, narrowly escaping the reckless drivers of Istanbul, until we reached the Galata Tower.  This 205-foot-tall stone tower was bulit by the Genoese in the mid-14th century (alright, I guess this district isn't entirely new) and has been used as a fire tower, barracks, dungeon, and launch pad for human-powered flight.  

Hezarfen Ahmet Celebi, a 17th-century aviation pioneer, was so inspired by Leonardo da Vinci's work that he built his own set of artificial wings and hand-glinded several miles from the top of the tower to the Asian side of Istanbul, all the way across the Bosphorus.  Now, of course, the tower is merely a tourist attraction, known for its views of the city.  We had planned to go up to the top, but the price had doubled (cheap student tourist alert!) and so we wandered on, content with the gorgeous views that the city has already provided.

Several blocks from the tower, the modern Istanbul gets going.  The heartbeat of this younger, more hip part of the city is Istiklal Caddesi, or Independence Avenue.  Modern seemed to mean "full of international brands", so we saw quite a few familiar names, from Krispy Kreme and Shake Shack to Gap.  Modern also seemed to mean "full of graffiti", some of which was rather disturbing if painstakingly painted (though I didn't photograph those).  And, often, there was graffiti-style art in English decorating the shops.

We wandered all the way to Taksim Square, at the far end of Istiklal Avenue.  The square is supposed to be the center of this "new city" portion of Istanbul, but the only people there seemed to be tourists.  At least around tourists we got a break (to some degree) from all the smoking.  People will sell you cigarettes - or loose tobacco for hand-rolling - at every corner.

On the way home, we stopped for dinner and I decided to try an Istanbul special: a "Fish bread" (or fish sandwich) straight off of a fishing boat.  You can't really see the boat behind the restaurant facade, but there is a boat rocking just off the pier with a giant load of freshly caught fish and an equally giant grill.  Stuff a fish fillet, some lettuce, and a few onions into some bread and you're good to go.  On the little casks-turned-tables, there are also sport-top water bottles filled with lemon juice for some added flavor.

To finish the day, we went on a brief pilgrimage.  Perhaps not a traditional one, but it was one that I had planned to do for a long time.

And so we journeyed to Karaköy Güllüoglu, home of the best baklava in all of Istanbul.  My research turned up reviews such as this one: "Oh my God!  We just love it... I & my friends eat in the shop.  We got some for home.  I got six kilos for my friends in UAE!  It is the best in the world.  Once in a lifetime."

Six kilos... SIX KILOS??? That's 1/4 of your entire weight limit for a checked bag.  And since this is made fresh and without preservatives, it doesn't last very long.  Other reviews were similarly glowing, discussing how this was (1) worth completely reversing all progress on your current diet, (2) spending absurd amounts of money to try one of every type of baklava (uncertain how they did this; there are about 30 types), and (3) how the chocolate baklava (what I like to call chocklava) would blow your mind with its dessert mash-up goodness.  How could a baklava-lover like me not go?  I mean, I once bought so many orders of baklava at a restaurant that they started giving me a free one with every purchase. (It was a great afternoon.)  Therefore, we found ourselves at the counter of Karaköy Güllüoglu.

They have an entire separate wall (the one shown) just for take-out orders; the other two walls are for people who choose to eat in.  We loaded up a half-kilo box sampler with "normal" (unsure of the real name), chocklava, some dumpling-shaped ones, and a pistachio one that basically has no pastry (just extra nuts).

I will admit, this baklava didn't change my life.  But it is delicious, very fresh, and uses only honey instead of dabbling in other sweeteners.  While I enjoyed trying a variety of flavors, I like the traditional baklava best.  The chocklava was not my favorite (although Josh loved it) and the pistachio one lost the balance of flavors that has inspired my love.  Definitely worth a visit.  Apparently you're supposed to follow your baklava with a sip of limonata when you eat in the restaurant, but since we took ours to go we didn't get to experience this important ritual.  

Also, possibly the most important art we have seen:

Spotted #1: Counterfeit money.  Among the many things sold on the street, counterfeit money has been the most surprising.  Or, at least, that's what it looks like.  We haven't stopped to engage these street vendors, who have rubber-banded stacks of paper that looks like various currencies.  We have seen enough to notice that the bills look slightly off.  The 5TL signs on top of a stack have put us off from the notion that perhaps they are just money exchangers... as does the fact that they will often leave their booths unattended.   The money doesn't look convincing enough to use, so we're slightly baffled as to why anyone would buy it (not that we have witnessed any transactions).

Spotted #2: Really endearing typos.  These pop up all over the city and can be found on every menu, pamplet, and sign if you look closely enough.  Our favorite was a restaurant that had carefully blacked out the typos on each pamphlet with a marker, but when you looked under a light you could read that they had accidentally described their shop as (blacked out parts in brackets) "A nostalgic [views], service the most [un]professional".

Bay Area

Day two began with a blustery run along the coastline and a revelation: Istanbul (especially in March) is a lot like San Francisco.  It has winding little streets that run seemingly vertically up hills, an overcast sky and a whole lot of wind, a bay (here, the Golden Horn), a suspension bridge merely lacking the International Orange finish, and a melting pot feel where east meets west.  That said, it's a whole lot more affordable here, to the point where human labor is the norm.  It took us all day but we realized that these flattened backpack-looking things we had seen tipped against the sidewalk walls in the morning were actually bases upon which giant loads could be strapped for transport to restaurants and shops far from the waterfront. (You can see the base of the backpack peeking out beneath the teal pillow-looking thing)

Men hinge over at a 90 degree angle, their backs to the opened back doors of a truck, and giant sacks, boxes, and pallets of cheap goods are strapped to their backs.  When we learned later in the day that 10-20% of Turkey's residents are unemployed, this cheap labor made a bit more sense.  It still had the uncomfortable taste of the miserable Chinese porters, though.  At least these guys didn't have to climb a mountain?

Our morning was spent as a sort of Intro to Istanbul Tourism.  We began at the Grand Bazaar, because why not?  It has a little bit of everything.  Since neither of us has a strong desire to purchase any shirts, shoes, jackets, scarves, tea sets, jewelry, or bowls, we made few friends.  Still, it was fun poking around.  Our favorite discovery was actually outside of the Grand Bazaar, at a small little stand.  It looked like a stapler but....

It was a tiny handheld sewing machine!  I was very tempted to get one so that I could sew additional pockets into my white coat.

Next, we went to the Suleiman Mosque.

The interesting part about this mosque is that it is one of the simplest in the city, and yet it is considered the most magnificent and beautiful.  Sadly, most tourists only hear about and explore the Blue Mosque, which is much more ornate (although I still like it).  The Suleiman Mosque has a faint blue color, simple but elegant tiling on the inside, a domes-supporting-dome structure borrowed from the Hagia Sofia (more on that in a future post), and elegant gardens.  It was designed by Mimar Sinan (architect for 3 sultans in a row!), was completed in 1557, and set the standard for mosque construction around the world.  Walking the grounds felt like entering an oasis from the non-stop conversations with the seemingly bred-for-extroversion Turks.  It also brought us a gorgeous view of the city.

Our third stop was the Spice Market.  Josh got to try Turkish Delight for the first time, and we wandered around breathing in the fumes of dried teas and mounded spices.  We also ended up in a sort of market extension off to one side where they sold mainly roosters, plant seeds/bulbs, and (most surprisingly) live leeches.  There are surprises around every corner here, if you bother to look.

We were scheduled to go on an afternoon bosophorus tour, but we had a bit more time before launching, so we walked a bit of the Galata Bridge only to find.... MOON JELLIES!  I'm not sure how visible they are in this picture, but there were hundreds of them just beneath the surface of the water.

After several trips to the National Aquarium, I was well prepared to appreciate the four semicircles on the back of these jellies and identify them.  My favorite moon jellies have always been the pinkie-nail-size ones, but any sighting in the wild was pretty exciting.

At last, we boarded our Bosphorus cruise ship.  We had decided on the 2-hour "Circle Tour" rather than the 6-hour all-day trip.  There is only so much residential skyline one can appreciate, and even a pristine island seen by horse-drawn carriage is anticlimactic in a gray haze.  There were a couple of very beautiful buildings along the way, though, including mosques, mansions, and a gorgeous building that is apparently the "Versailles of Turkey".  We also watched as dozesns of seagulls accompanied the ship, snapping bits of simit (the Turkish sesame seed-covered bagel-ish circles, http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simit) out of the air as a woman in conservative Islamic dress stood on a bench and hurled them out the window, laughing in pure delight.  

The gentle rocking of the ship was the perfect way to relax after a day of aggressive sight-seeing and city-walking.  We had roamed touristy neighborhoods, hiked more authentic-seeming residential streets, and appreciated the fact that literally everything (scales, Barbies, juicers, zippers, six foot tall spoons) is sold on the streets of Istanbul.  But the best part is wandering around and soaking it up for free.

Spotted: Some things are universal.  Like no line for the men's bathroom, and one that's out the door for the women's bathroom.

Note to future travelers here: you have to pay to use the public restrooms (WCs), so keep coins handy!

Istanfull

Today begins the next great adventure!  After a few weekend trips to various American cities, Josh and I are back in Europe.  We're planning to see Istanbul, Athens, and Delphi over the next week and a half.  With five hours in Istanbul (including the airport), under my belt, I have a few observations to offer.  

(1) It's Women's Day! (Apparently.)  We stopped at the tourist information booth at the airport, and I was immediately presented with a bouquet of carnations and had my photograph taken with the whole crew of information-givers (note: several carnations were lost in transit... that's the price of public transportation).  

It's currently unclear "Women's Day" is and how often it takes place, but it was a nice welcome.  Of course, my initial reaction was "how much money are they going to ask for after I take the flowers?", but I figured that was less likely to happen inside an airport at an official tourist information booth.

(2) There are a lot of stray animals here.  In doorways, in alleys, conked out in public spaces, or begging in the middle of busy streets.  Some are really cute.  Others make me wonder when I got my last rabies shot.

(3) There is a place called Batman, Turkey.  Could this be where the Justice League meets?

Since our flight didn't land until 4:30 pm this afternoon, we caught the sunset and the gentle end-of-the-day hustle as we wound our way from the airport into the city on the tram.  Neon signs sizzled on store fronts, pashminas tended by lounging men blanketed the sidewalks, and wind whipped around the massive historic landmarks that loomed over everything.  A hazy call to prayer drifted through the tram windows, yet another reminder that we were far from home. We dropped our belongings off at our lovely little hotel, gently declined the owner's offers to send us to all his friends' restaurants for a "good deal!", and wandered the narrow cobblestone streets.  We found a small shop that seemed authentic (at least by tourist-central-Old-City standards) and had (what else?) our first dinner of kebab.  It was 100% a family-run restaurant, and I loved watching the different generations prepare the evening's bread. (They clearly did not enjoy being photographed quite as much.)

As we waited for our meal, the youngest boy ran out the front and returned minutes later brandishing a bouquet of fresh herbs wrapped in a twist of pink paper.  As we sipped on freshly-squeezed juice and gulped down hot lamb and fresh bread, it really started to feel like our vacation had begun.  Istanbul is full of new adventures, full of men advertising restaurants who want to be your best friend, full of good food, and full of who knows what else?

Admittedly, the city does seem a little bit grittier than last time I was here, but that is likely because I was whisked between tourist attractions on a bus with 80 other people.  I'm excited to walk the small streets, haggle my way to some souvenirs, and learn more about the history of this beautiful city.

Spotted: Selfie sticks.  The unfortunate reality of 2015 travel.