Istanbul!!
The most colourful city of Asian, Arabic and European styles, colours, language, life
Loud, as they seem to yell on top of eachother
Always smelling like fresh fish cooked on the side of the bay
And freshly baked bread
mmmmm
the food is so good.
From Marhaba to Merhaba!
I was welcomed to Istanbul - the colourful Constantinople - to discover no body spoke english. I slept at the airport for a few hours before David came - a few people would interrupt me in Turkish.
I soon learnt that even after saying 'sorry, I don't speak turkish' the Turkish people aren't bothered - they still continue to speak Turkish to you and suppose you know what they're on about.
I found David easily (once his flight arrived) and we began our three bus journey through the city. Rockily maneavering through and away into the outer suburbs. The houses grew and shrunk - stripey purples reds and whites - and we wondered where our directions were taking us.
I found a contact to stay with on couch surfing, see, and we were following his directions to his home.
Once we found his house, in a little family orientated suburb of the Asian side (there's the asian side and the European side) we were stuck out the front for an hour discussing with the neighbours - who spoke zero english, naturally. They explained that Emre wouldnt be home until 6 but we could stash our bags at their house.
So we began to hike around the suburbs (I still felt a bit ill but I found some pills in my bag from a previous food poisnoning and they helped a lot). We found a tiny little Ottoman mosque which was simply delightful - blues and white floral tiling, and became friends with some bus drivers who would keep driving past and helping us - dropping us off places they supposed we needed (I'm still not sure) or passing us onto other bus drivers with notes written in Turkish.
Finally we got home, eager to speak to a local (Emre) in english and learn about this strange country.
Emre was really great. And answered all questions.
Day 2
We made it to the European side of the river - caught a ferry! - and Bam. This is where the english speakers find work. This is where the tourists lie. First stop - AyaSofia - Absolutely beautifull. Thanks Taita for insisting I go. Then the blue mosque; also breath taking. The art work and skill, one. The history, another. Next we wandered into a museum based on Turkish and Islamic art.
So glad we found that one because I now understand the history of the Ottoman -
The original Turkish are in fact from Asia.
The next day we wandered through the loud and claustrauphobic with details and movement everywhere
The spice market and the grand bazaar.
God, I hate shopping. Everything was so beautiful - it all glistened and seem to hover around me and fat salesmen were all so greedy and the long corridor of little trinkets and stalls never ever ended.
Finally we got out and sat in a mosque for prayer time
I forget it's name, but it was soothing.
That night Emre took us out to Taksim for pre drinks a bar which played live turkish folk music before going to a crazy club where everyone drunk this weird concoction of 15 different alchohols probably mixed with red bull - you bought and drunk it by the bottle - called 'rapist drink'. Don't worry mum, got home happy and somehow woke up happier.
So the young Istanbulians get really very drunk. Though they're conservative at the same time, often.
That's all for now!
Better get some sleep
The most colourful city of Asian, Arabic and European styles, colours, language, life
Loud, as they seem to yell on top of eachother
Always smelling like fresh fish cooked on the side of the bay
And freshly baked bread
mmmmm
the food is so good.
 |
| The Blue mosque (wasnt so blue inside) |
From Marhaba to Merhaba!
I was welcomed to Istanbul - the colourful Constantinople - to discover no body spoke english. I slept at the airport for a few hours before David came - a few people would interrupt me in Turkish.
I soon learnt that even after saying 'sorry, I don't speak turkish' the Turkish people aren't bothered - they still continue to speak Turkish to you and suppose you know what they're on about.
I found David easily (once his flight arrived) and we began our three bus journey through the city. Rockily maneavering through and away into the outer suburbs. The houses grew and shrunk - stripey purples reds and whites - and we wondered where our directions were taking us.
I found a contact to stay with on couch surfing, see, and we were following his directions to his home.
Once we found his house, in a little family orientated suburb of the Asian side (there's the asian side and the European side) we were stuck out the front for an hour discussing with the neighbours - who spoke zero english, naturally. They explained that Emre wouldnt be home until 6 but we could stash our bags at their house.
So we began to hike around the suburbs (I still felt a bit ill but I found some pills in my bag from a previous food poisnoning and they helped a lot). We found a tiny little Ottoman mosque which was simply delightful - blues and white floral tiling, and became friends with some bus drivers who would keep driving past and helping us - dropping us off places they supposed we needed (I'm still not sure) or passing us onto other bus drivers with notes written in Turkish.
Finally we got home, eager to speak to a local (Emre) in english and learn about this strange country.
Emre was really great. And answered all questions.
Day 2
We made it to the European side of the river - caught a ferry! - and Bam. This is where the english speakers find work. This is where the tourists lie. First stop - AyaSofia - Absolutely beautifull. Thanks Taita for insisting I go. Then the blue mosque; also breath taking. The art work and skill, one. The history, another. Next we wandered into a museum based on Turkish and Islamic art.
So glad we found that one because I now understand the history of the Ottoman -
The original Turkish are in fact from Asia.
The next day we wandered through the loud and claustrauphobic with details and movement everywhere
The spice market and the grand bazaar.
God, I hate shopping. Everything was so beautiful - it all glistened and seem to hover around me and fat salesmen were all so greedy and the long corridor of little trinkets and stalls never ever ended.
Finally we got out and sat in a mosque for prayer time
I forget it's name, but it was soothing.
That night Emre took us out to Taksim for pre drinks a bar which played live turkish folk music before going to a crazy club where everyone drunk this weird concoction of 15 different alchohols probably mixed with red bull - you bought and drunk it by the bottle - called 'rapist drink'. Don't worry mum, got home happy and somehow woke up happier.
So the young Istanbulians get really very drunk. Though they're conservative at the same time, often.
 |
| grand bazaar! ahh |
 |
| spice market!! ahh! |
Better get some sleep
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