What a day!
As a ship tossed by waves and storms, we are thrown from west to east
. And what a sea of difference. As I write these words, the muezzin starts his call for prayer from the minarets of the Hagia Sofia. The minarets of the Sultan Ahmed mosque take over his call.
It's the well known call: there is no god but God... and this muezzin makes it a complete performance. He sings it, with long strophes. He goes dangerously high and long. He manages to even bind an infidel like me (although I am really one "of the book") with his challenging call.
Yes, we are in Istanbul. The sun is bright and the Bosphorus is full of white streaks of the many boats. The mild smell of salt water is in the air.
Last night, close to midnight, our airplane took to the sky. Through complete darkness we crossed old Europe. The places below us are loaded with history. German towns charged with the horrors of the second world war. Check Republic. Suddenly Vienna almost right under us
. Franz Joseph, the double monarchy. And then the former capital of the East Roman empire... Constantinople, now Istanbul.
We sleep on metal chairs in the airport, because it is still 4 in the morning. Then we store our luggage and find the Metro, which brings us into the city.
Frankly, I am a bit surprised at the poor maintenance. I was here 25 years ago, when Dutch (or any other foreigners) were not really found in Turkey. At that time roads were in poor shape. But they still are. A lot of broken concrete, many places torn up.
But as we walk from Taxim square to the Bosphorus the excitement rises. The wonderful temperature, the people in the street.
Along a narrow and steeply descending street we find a tiny restaurant and eat outside on a table the size of a handkerchief. Turkish tea, fresh bread baked with cheese, the smell of morning in the air.
Dozens of yellow taxis tumble downhill, many hopefully glancing in our direction
. But we are in no hurry. When we finally continue, we walk and follow the hill down to the water.
And there - across the water - is Asia! The strait is narrow - no wonder the Russian frustration, of not even being able to bring a submarine out of the Krimea without being detected.
Boats and ferries everywhere. Pleasure yachts crisscrossing and the rumbles of large freighters on the way to the black sea. Seagulls and sunshine. You cannot avoid the feeling of being alive, the vibration that permeates this city of millions at the crossroads of Europe and Asia.
We walk the shoreline and stop for tea overlooking the water. Along the way a helpful security guards lifts up the heavy leather blanket which covers a door and lets us into a beautiful mosque along the shore.
Inside a man is vacuum cleaning the heavy red carpets and relaxed - in our socks - we view Arab inscriptions and decorations. My eyes are caught by two tall standing clocks
. I forgot the maker, but he was from London. How many centuries have they ticked in this carpeted silence?
We enjoy the outside of the Dolmabahçe palace (built by the Ottomans around 1850. Later occupied by our own Kemal Atatürk, who spent his last working years) for the weather is too good to be inside.
Later we take the ferry to Asia, and eat a Turkish hamburger in the sunshine, before returning to Kabatas on the European side.
Then, by walking and metro, we visit the Galata tower. We meet a Lebanese man who also looks for the tower, and together we go to the top, where the beauty of this exotic city undulates over the hills below us.
We take pictures of each other but have to say goodbye, because he has 5 days in Istanbul, but we have only today.
Then we search for the Roman cisterns. I read about them but never saw them, and for years I have wanted to see them. They do not disappoint. Deep underground, like an inundated basilica, with small lights to indicate the columns, we walk over a raised platform as inside a church.
This "church" with a surface area of almost one hectare (2 acres) was the underground water storage for the city. Built by Trajanus (or was it Hadrian?) Large fish swim below us. It's romantic and eery at the same time. Definitey unique. Two of the columns are always wet - weeping for the slaves who died while constructing this cistern. There are also two images of Medusa at the bottom of two columns. One upide down, and one sideways. Not clear why.
When we emerge in the street, the light and bustle are impressive. We walk between the people to the Haya Sofia which I already described above. Magnificent. There are large restaurations ongoing, and there is high scaffolding inside, all the way up to the ceiling.
It remains an experience to walk inside this masterpiece of all churches. If my memory serves me right, the Ottomans, when finally conquering Constantinopel, destroyed much. But when they saw the Haya Sofia, they were so impressed that they did not destroy it, but converted it into a mosque. Some eight large shields with quotations from the Qoran still attach to the walls - even though Attaturk converted it into a museum.
And think about it: Some of the green columns are actually taken from the great temple of Artemis is Ephesus.
I just wrote that, and then checkedd it in Wikipedia. There I read in the Dutch version, that several of the columns are indeed from Ephesus. However, in the english version, I read that it is not true. Can the truthful Wikipedia identify itself?
As we walk back through the busy center of old Istambul, I watch the people, the fountains, the architecture. We find the Grand Bazaar closed, but instead stop for tea - and I have an orange juice. The people try to talk to me, and I regret not knowing a little more Turkish.
In a packed tram we make it back to the airport, where the plane leaves after dark...
Between Europe and Asia
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Istanbul, Turkey
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Comments

2025-02-10
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Jim Currier
2023-08-15
Keep them coming Rob.