Maya's thoughts and adventures

The only city in the world, which spreads on two continents, the city in which the East and the West meet in a majestic and perfect manner, the city with 12-13 million people, of all religions and nationalities, the city built on 7 hills, whose shores are bathed by 2 seas, the city where there is something on each corner that leaves you with a gaping mouth, the city that is so old and yet, so alive and young- Byzantium, Constantinople and or Istanbul, however you chose to call it, the impression it will leave on you is the same. However, the goal of my journey was not to visit as many museums as possible, climb the highest peek, meet as many people as possible or party the night away. Having been told that Istanbul is a food paradise, I set out with an intention to try as many Turkish dishes and desserts and to determine the origin of the same. My journey was marked by a fusion of ingredients, spices, flavours, aromas, colours which is why I will always remember Istanbul as the tastiest place in the world. Nevertheless, different people, various places, numerous dramatic and comic situations were always connected to the food tasting part, so, they are an integral and inseparable part of my memories. And so, despite the delicious food, Istanbul would have never been the same without them.

Istanbul, 14th September, day 1 – I arrived at Atatürk Airport in Istanbul, at around 5 p.m.. When I entered the airport building I saw a lot of people, waiting in 3 long lines: Turkish citizens, Citizens requiring visa and Citizens not requiring visa. Relying on the article I read in the papers that when Turkish PM visited Belgrade he signed an agreement with Serbian President about a mutual visa abolition, I happily headed for the queue “Not requiring visa” and was pleased to see it was the shortest one. I even pitied those unlucky who had to queue to get the visa and felt extremely contented to be Serbian. It was my turn to approach the counter, where a middle-age Turkish customs officer was stamping seals in passports, probably counting down the minutes until the end of his shift. I gave him the widest possible grin and wishing to impress him I said “Merhaba” which means “Good-day”. He looked at me, frowned and took my passport, mumbling something like “Me’ba”, not even looking at me. Then he started leafing through my passport and asked:” Visum?”. Relaxed, as I’ve never been in my life, still grinning and with an attitude of a teacher who corrects a slightly imbecile student, I told him I was Serbian and that we didn’t need visas, as it had been agreed between their PM and our President. He gave me my passport back and pointing at the longest line said:” Go get visum, them come back!”. I felt so embarrassed and humiliated that I stormed off to the notorious line and, jumping the queue (pretending it’s the most natural thing in the world) I cursed all Serbian and Turkish politicians. Luckily, I did not queue long, since the visa costs 10€ and it’s just a sticker in your passport, so when it was done, I went back to my “friendly” custom officer, jumping the queue again, as if I was a VIP celebrity. He recognized me, took my passport, smiled at me and asked:” Eeee..how old you are?”. I said I was 27. Then, he shook his head in disbelief and concluded:” So, you 27 and you still believe in what politicians say? Tut, tut, tut!”. Well, who says you cannot learn anything important from a customs officer?
Getting out of the airport I was looking around in order to find a Havaş bus, which, I had found out, takes you directly to Taksim Square, where I had to meet my host. Since I am very scatty and sometimes don’t see thing in front of my very eyes, I approached the first person I saw, a tall Turkish police officer, carrying a machine gun in his hands and, flashing him with my best smile, I blinked, innocently asked for the Havaş buses. To my surprised, he smiled back and pointed 15 meters to my right, where a huge, white bus, with a sign Havash was parked. I thanked him and then rushed to the bus, trailing my 24kg suitcase behind, sweating profoundly, only to find out the bus leaves in 15 min. I got on and since it was already half-full, I spotted an empty seat at the very back of the bus. A man, in his 40s, had already been sitting there and putting on my most polite British accent I asked him if the seat was taken. No, he said, it wasn’t, so I slumped into the seat, in not such a noble manner, fanning myself maniacally with a guide book. When the bus set off, I asked the man when it would reach Taksim Square and exchanging a few more sentences, we spontaneously sparked up a conversation. To my surprise, judging by my accent, he was sure I was from England! I explained I was from Serbia, to which he smiled in a way that said:” Serbia, huh…!”. So, since he did not look like a Turk, I asked him where he was from and he replied “Belgium”, which explained the wry smile. However, it was enough for me to lighten up and tell him I have a really great friend, who loves Belgrade so much he even lived there for a short time and how I had even been thinking to go to Belgium on vacation, but changed my mind when I found out the weather was not so nice. He agreed with me and confirmed it by blowing his nose loudly, excusing himself, explaining he lived in Istanbul but that he was just coming back from Brussels, where he had caught cold. Thank God I chose Turkey over Belgium. He asked me what I did, I explained I worked at the Embassy of Myanmar, to which me smiled again and said he worked for Belgian Embassy in Istanbul. What a coincidence! On each trip I’ve made this year, I met people from Embassies: Thai, Slovenia, Sweden and now Belgian! As usual, I asked him if he had ever been to Belgrade and he said he hadn’t and even wondered if it had a sea cost! Oh, dear, another badly-informed Western European, who is totally confused with the entire ex-Yugoslavia thing. However, I ignored this and suggested him to visit as soon as possible, offering to take care of everything, wanting to reassure him of his most probable view on Serbia, as a country full of blood-thirsty war criminals! When he heard my Lady Gaga ring tone, he mentioned his daughter loved her and so I told him to come to Belgrade with his family, promising they would love it. We finally reached Taksim Square, after 1h of driving through heavily congested streets and making sure I would be all right, that is, that my host will wait for me, he gave me his business card, if case he decides to visit my city. I thanked him, assuring him he need not wait with me and promised I would mail him.

When I got off the bus, I had a feeling I was in a totally different world – people were rushing past me, cars sounding their horns like mad, different music coming from different directions, flashy lights all around. My host Anıl, arrived in a minute and I already felt more relaxed. As a true gentleman (as all Turkish men, in fact), he offered to trail my suitcase and we made our way, through a very busy street to his place. We crossed the street, narrowly avoiding the speeding cars and turned to a little street, where I was finally able to hear my own thoughts and Anıl, since the noise died down. What surprised me a lot were bags with garbage in front of buildings, but Anıl explained that a garbage truck would pick them up later, after 10pm. The street led downhill, only to end with a flight of insanely steep flight of stairs leading down. Bearing in mind my stairs-phobia, I wondered how I would make it down with my massive suitcase if Anıl weren’t there. We crossed another street and then the road started going uphill, there was another steep flight of broken stairs, which Anıl climbed with easiness that surprised me, carrying my luggage, and then trailed the suitcase up the steepest street I’ve ever seen. I was 2 meters behind him, panting, wiping my forehead with a handkerchief. We finally got to his building and, thank God, his flat was on the 1st floor. It’s a very strange feeling, but as soon as I crossed the doorstep, I already felt at home. Then, Anıl introduced me to his room mates: a long-haired, shy and smiley Iranian, Mehdi, who just moved to the city along with his 10-or-so drums, hoping to form a rock band, a beautiful and friendly German girl, Anne, a polyglot who was attending a summer course on Turkish language in Istanbul and a big-eyed-long-eyelashed and dear Palestinian, Younis, who worked there and was always ready to offer me Ness café and a helping hand, not missing a chance to talk about his Serbian girlfriend(s) from Dubai. All in all, an extremely friendly and easy-going gang that welcomed me to their lovely flat and told me to feel at home.
After having a quick shower, Anıl, Anne and I went to the center again since I was starving and was craving for a Döner kebab. However, they took me to a small restaurant just near the main pedestrian zone, Istiklal Street, where they serve home-cooked Turkish dishes. I was so hungry I didn’t even ask what it was and just pointed to three different meals that looked the best. And, oh, boy, did it taste good!

My first dinner in Istanbul

When I finished, we headed down Istiklal Street, to Galata Tower, a favourite place of young artists, jugglers and people who would rather sit on a bench, away from the crowd. On the way there, a show window caught my eye – a shop window filled with most delightful Turkish sweets and like the homeless child from an old cartoon, I stood there, frozen, my mouth watering, not knowing what I would try first.

Saliva oozing desserts
In the end, a Turkish delight, that I forgot the name off, prevailed and it was so tasty and crunchy and sweet I cannot describe.

Turkish sweets with pistachios

Elbowing our way through the crowd, which was even more difficult for me, since I was devouring my cookie, we finally reached the Galata fortress, where young people sat on the street, benches, pavements, a mixture of languages and laughter could be heard and I was again sad to realize there is no place like this in Belgrade. We stayed there some time, chatting about various things, when I realized my host Anıl was yawning, since he was exhausted after working for almost 10 hours. To be honest, the tiredness began casting over me, too, so we headed home – Anıl in the middle, Anne and me holding him under each arm.

Anne and Anıl
Although I though I would not fall asleep easily, since I always have troubles sleeping in a new bed, my eyes closed as soon as my head touched the pillow and I slept like a baby all night long, dreaming of all those lovely sweets I had seen.

Istanbul, 15th September, day 2 – Although I was on vacation, since my life-motto is “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”, I decided to get up really early and thus have a whole day ahead. Sunrays that entered my room woke me up without the alarm clock, so it was not too hard to get out of bed. I said “Guten Morgen” to Anna, who was just getting ready to go to school, while all the other had already gone to work. I had a quick shower and when I entered my room, I found an Istanbul city map on my bed, left by Anna, with a note stuck on it, wishing me a nice day! When someone you’ve just met does something like this, it makes your day.
At 9:30am I left the house and I had to walk to Taksim Square, where I would meet Rainer, a German that offered to show me Istanbul. The sun was still high, there weren’t almost any clouds on the pale blue sky and I joyfully made my way to the square. As I had mentioned before the path from Anıl’s place to the square is very steep, not to mention you have to climb 105 steps! I even though I would go jogging once in a while to keep fit, but I realized that going up these steep streets and climbing the steps would be an equally efficient exercise!

105 steps

At 10am sharp, I arrived to Taksim Square, where Rainer had been waiting for me in front of The Independence Monument, showing, naturally, Atatürk, the founder of Turkish Republic. I have never seen so much admiration and respect towards any leader as the Turks have for Atatürk – his portrait could be seen everywhere – on photos adorning the walls of Istanbul public institutions and ferries, on post cards, flags, badges, magnets, bags – even on cases for mobile phones! Introducing my self to Rainer, he asked me what I would like to see and since my plan was not to have any plans at all, I told him he could take me anywhere and so we made our way towards The Dolmabahçe Palace, where Atatürk died at 9:05 on 10th November 1938 and where all clocks are still stopped at this time. Walking there, I remembered I had not had anything for breakfast and so I bought a simit, circular bread with sesame seeds, which is sold by street vendors who have a simit trolley. It is very cheap, around 0.75€ and very tasty. Later on, I found out another delicacy sold at simit trolleys, called çatal, which is even more tasteful than a regular simit.

Simit street vendor

Çatal

Having arrived to the Bosphorous, Rainer suggested walking along the sea to The Dolmabahçe Palace and then taking a ferry which would take us to the Asian side. I delightfully agreed, since it would be my first time on the Asian continent, although it looks nothing like Asia we all have in mind. I had difficulties following Rainer, who walks very fast, trying hard not to choke on my simit, at the same time, looking inquisitively around and taking photos! We passed next to The Dolmabahçe Palace, an impressive mansion, turned into a museum nowadays, guarded by soldiers, who are so still, that I thought they were wax figures!

The entrance to the Dolmabahçe Palace

After a 20min walk, me lagging behind Rainer, we arrived to the Beşiktaş port, where we embarked a ferry taking us to the Asian side. This is where I first tried traditional Turkish tea, or çay, which is a drink, drank more than coffee or water in Turkey and to which I’ve become addicted. What I liked most about it are little glasses it is served in that I naturally had to buy. I think that in my entire life I’ve never drank more tea that since I visited Istanbul.

The first çay on a ferry

The view from the ferry is absolutely magnificent – one could see almost all the mosques on the European side of the city with their tall, pointy minarets tearing the sky.

The Blue Mosque and The Hagia Sophia

After a 25min ferry ride, we arrived to Kadiköy port on the Asian side on the city and I was excited to make my first steps on the Asian continent. However, I was surprised to see that the Asian side looks more like a Greek town on the coast, with terraced buildings, narrow streets and abundance of little shops selling spices, vegetables, fruits, seeds, fish and all sorts of delicacies. As we were walking along, the sweet scent of spices captivated all my senses, so I didn’t even pay attention to hoards of people pushing their way through the crowd. I wanted to stop in front on every store, taste each fruit, smell every sack with spices. To me, this was heaven on Earth.

My first steps on Asian continent

Green market

Olives

After walking past all that mouth-watering food, my stomach started complaining and rumbling, so we walked until the port again, where I finally got a chance to try a real Turkish Döner, sold by street vendors. I could not help but noticing that it was almost the same as the delicious Greek Gyros – the only difference was that Gyros is usually made of pork, while Döner is made of chicken. Nevertheless, it was equally tasty and I ate it quickly, since I was really hungry.
We embarked a ferry again, heading for the Eminönü port, the main port on the European part of the city, very close to Sultan Ahmet area and Topkapi palace. One of the mosques that I definitely passed by most is The Yeni Mosque (New Mosque). It’s situated right next to the Galata Bridge along the sea side and it will probably stay the first mosque that crosses my mind when I remember Istanbul.

The Yeni Mosque and the Eminönü port, with the view on The Süleymaniye Mosque on the right

We passed the Yeni Mosque and this is when my sweet-tooth alarm went off – seeing the famous Dondurma ice-creams, I could not resist. The things which make this ice-cream so unique are texture and resistance to melting, as well as salep, flour made from the root of the Early Purple Orchid. Moreover, the ice-cream vendors will make a huge show out of making it, stretching it like a bubble gum with spatulas - but the peak of the show is serving it – they’ll stick the spatula on the ice-cream, offering you the cone, but when you grasp it they’ll pull out the ice-cream stuck on the spatula, leaving you with an empty cone in your hand! Or, they will flip the cone up-side-down, and when you automatically jerk to get the ice-cream, you’ll see it’s still stuck on the cone. When you experience this show the first time, it looks interesting, but then, every next time, you’ll be exasperated with it and all you’ll want is your ice-cream. I chose 2 flavours – chocolate and pistachios and, after a small show, I finally sat on the sidewalk, happily licking my ice-cream, amazed by the fact it is not melting.

Dondurma ice-cream

Finishing the ice-cream, we decided to avoid the main, touristy streets and thus took the narrow ones on our way to The Blue Mosque. Being gourmets, and a bit tired, Rainer and I agreed it was coffee-time, so we chose a small, local restaurant, consisting of 3 tables on the sidewalk, where we ordered Turkish coffee. I have to mention here, that this kind of coffee is really popular in Serbia and 80% of people drink it every day, as it is cheap and easily obtained. However, in Istanbul, I was surprised to find out it is usually more expensive than an espresso or Nescafe, for example, possibly because it is one of tourist attractions. Anyhow, my first Turkish coffee in Istanbul had an excellent aroma and taste.

Rainer and I sharing a moment over Turkish coffee

After a short break, we continued our stroll and promptly arrived in front of the Blue Mosque (The Sultan Ahmed Mosque). 6 tall minarets make this mosque unique and there is a very amusing story behind it (although I’m not sure it’s true). Sultan Ahmet I, who ordered the construction of this mosque wanted to make it the most striking one in the Muslim world and he ordered it to be built of gold , in Turkish “altın”. However, the architect, Mimar Sedefkar Mehmet Ağa, misheard him and, instead of the word “altın”, he understood “altı”, which means six. So, wanting to satisfy his Sultan, the architect built six minarets and when Sultan Ahmet was called to see this new world-wonder he was probably shocked and puzzled, but, eventually, the misunderstanding was solved. And, so the 6 minarets remained until the present day. When I stood in front of it, I felt awe. It is so massive and so impressive, it literally leaves you gaping. It emits calmness and peacefulness and it has a similar effect on me, as when I stand if front of St. Sava’s Temple in Belgrade. We sat there, on the steps, for some time and I did not want to leave. I think I could sit there and stare at the domes, the portals, the arches and the minarets for hours. It is definitely the most beautiful mosque I’ve ever seen and I visited it few more times during my stay in Istanbul. If I ever go back, and I’m quite sure I will, it is the first place I’ll visit.

The Blue Mosque (The Sultan Ahmet Mosque)

On the other side on the Blue Mosque rises another landmark of the city – the Hagia Sophia Mosque. It was built in the Byzantine times, as a small orthodox church, but was converted into a mosque when the Ottomans conquered Istanbul. I have to mention here, that in 1453, the Ottomans found the church in a state of ruin and then turned it into a majestic mosque. However, Hagia Sophia was declared a national monument by Atatürk and turned into a museum in 1934. Most people who visit Istanbul are most amazed by Hagia Sophia, but, my personal preference is unquestionably the Blue Mosque, simply because it left a more powerful impression on me.

The Hagia Sophia Mosque with simit sellers in front

After a whole-day walk under the sun, exhausted and since I had to meet another person in the evening, Rainer and me parted and I made my way to Anıl’s place. Running downhill and climbing uphill to get to his flat left me breathless and totally wet, but it I must have burnt a lot of calories and then did not feel guilty for eating all that food. I spent less than 45min at Anıl’s place getting ready and then walked all the way to Taksim again, to meet a local guy, Uğur, who will later on become my second host in Istanbul, due to the unplanned change of plans. I first heard of Uğur, from a Finish girl whom I hosted in Belgrade and she told me he was one of the most wonderful hosts she had ever had and later, when I contacted him, to ask him to meet me for a coffee/ meal, he told me he was just hosting Cherie, an Australian girl whom I randomly met in Florence and Vienna! So, all the stars aligned and said that he was definitely a right person to meet there. Due to heavily congested traffic, Uğur was a bit late and since he had told me not to eat anything for dinner, I almost died of starvation until he showed up. We met in front of a Starbucks store at Taksim Square (I have to mention that I’ve never seen so many Starbucks cafes as in Istanbul), which will later become our regular meeting point. Uğur is one of those people you like at the first sight – he smiles a lot, his warm, brown eyes glowing, he is smart and friendly, sweet and outgoing, a perfect gentleman. He apologized for keeping me waiting, rushed me in a taxi and told me he was taking me for the best restaurant in the city. “I hope you’re hungry”, he said. “Hungry? I was starving!” I thought. Soon, we arrived to a small street, close to Atatürk Boulevard, to a tiny local restaurant, where all the waiters knew him – being a regular customer, we got a special service and the helpful and polite waiters brought us some salads, for which I later found out were only a starter.

Salads

Then, when the waiters started clearing out the table, I found out, the main dish was only to arrive and I was already full! However, when I saw the main dish, I could not resist! (I’ve never been able to resist tasty food and I’ll never be able to resist it!)

Turkish kebab, with grilled paprika, rice and tomatoes

Oh, dear, how I love food! How I love pistachios that Turks put everywhere! How I love the unusual flavours, such as grilled onion in pomegranate syrup! It is said that no matter how delicious your meal is, it is nothing without a pleasurable company – this is totally true. Uğur and I talked about music, travels, food, sports, I spoke about Belgrade, trying to persuade him to visit, I told him about my amazement with Istanbul and how happy I was for having chosen it as my vacation destination. Then, it was time for çay and one of the best Turkish delicacy I’ve ever tried – künefee. A mouth-watering, warm dessert, filled with white cheese which stretches when you take it on a fork and soaked into sugary topping, the mixture of sugar, cheese and pistachios, melting in your mouth. Close your eyes and the mixture of flavours will tickle your tongue, wake up all your senses and take you to heaven! It was as if Uğur had read my mind, finding out exactly what I liked and ordered it for me! When only one piece left in the place, Uğur gave it to me and although I felt embarrassed for eating this much, like a greedy pig, I accepted it, deciding I will feel the shame some other time!

Künefee

After the abundant dinner, I told Uğur to tell the waiters I loved them all and that I’d definitely come back again. Unfortunately, I did not have time for that – but I know where I’ll have lunch/ dinner when I visit Istanbul again. Just to prove how important a customer Uğur was, the waiters called a cab for us and when Uğur opened the door for me, I really felt like a princess, despite having eaten like an elephant just a few moments before!

Uğur and I after the fantastic dinner, with the outstanding waiters on the poster in the back (notice how my cheeks are glowing!)

We returned to Taksim Square again, where Anıl had been waiting for me. I thanked Uğur for a splendid time and we agreed to meet again. Being “handed over” to my dear host, I told him to take me to see something magnificent and he knew just the right place – The Bosphorous Bridge.
The Bosphorous Bridge is one of the two bridges in Istanbul that connect two continents. 1.500 meters long, it is marvelously illuminated by lamps that change colour – green, blue, red, purple. It is located next to the Ortaköy Mosque and when I first saw it left me positively breathless.

The Ortaköy Mosque and The Bosphorous bridge glowing red

Under the bridge, there were a lot of people of all ages, nationalities, religions – elderly
Western European couples taking pictures, young Muslim girls in long cotton coats and head scarves, cheerfully chattering, eating Kumpir (will be mentioned later), middle-aged couples walking hand in hand, enjoying a romantic moment, Anıl and me, discussing philosophy and life. Again, the tiredness started dawning upon us and we made our way home, blissfully yawning. It was a perfect ending of a perfect day, but the best was still to come.

Istanbul, 16th September, day 3 – Despite being very tired when the alarm clock went off, I made myself get up early again, since I did not want to miss a thing.
One thing that I was really dying to try was Turkish Börek, called Burek in Serbia and commonly praised as our national dish. It’s really difficult to distinguish from what is whose, when you bear in mind that the Ottomans ruled the Balkans for 500 years. There have been so many disputes which dish belongs to which nation- I find it quite unnecessary – why don’t we simply call them Balkan food? Anyway, I made my way to the shop where I had my first Turkish pistachios desert, since I saw some Börek there. I ordered a piece of hot, fresh Börek and a glass of Ayran, some sort of Turkish yoghurt. (Having already mentioned the disputes about what belongs to who, I’ll take this example: in Greece and Turkey, yoghurt is solid and has to be eaten with a spoon, while in Serbia yoghurt comes in a bottle and is liquidy, can be drank from a glass, while there is a dairy product we call, literally, sour milk, which resembles Greek and Turkish yoghurt. Again, what it called Ayran in Turkey irresistibly resembles Serbian yoghurt – so, how can we tell which on is the “first/original” one?). Anyway, my breakfast was strong and oily and not even I, a famous gourmand, could eat everything. However, the glass of Ayran made it slip down my stomach more easily, so I did not feel as if I had eaten an ox.

Börek and Ayran

After such strong breakfast, I needed a walk, so instead of taking a tram, I decided to walk all the way to Topkapi Palace. The path took me through the main pedestrian zone Istiklal Street (Independence St.), then following the map, I came to the Galata bridge. Since I was alone I could not make any photos of myself, so walking across the bridge, I saw a chubby man, with a professional camera around his neck and thinking he might be the right person, I gave him my friend’s camera and politely asked him to take a photo of me. He agreed, I stood with my arm on the banister, telling him to capture the Yeni Mosque behind me. He pressed the button and just as he wanted to give me the camera back, he accidentally dropped it, the cam fell down, bounced from the bridge, hit the banister, bounced back (thank God!), but the case holding batteries opened and the batteries fell out! The man was terrified, he approached fast, apologizing, swearing it was an accident. I put the batteries back and turned the camera on, so I told him it was all right, that I knew it was an accident and, wishing him a pleasant day, I headed to the Yeni Mosque. Only then did I see that a little piece of plastic, holding the batteries’ door had been broken and that the batteries could fall out any time! I wanted to start crying, screaming, since the camera was not mine, but I knew it would not change anything. I put the camera in my bag and swore I would never borrow anything again. Luckily, the camera on my phone proved to be good enough, so, by the end of my trip I did not use the broken camera at all.
Calming down a bit after the shock in front of the Yeni Mosque, I continued my way to Topkapi Palace, following the tram tracks. The sun was high up on the horizon and I had been stressed enough, so by the time I finally reached the Palace, I was a little annoyed and despaired. I entered the huge, shady garden of the Palace and sat next to a lovely little fountain and this was the only sad moment in Istanbul, since I felt a bit lonely and annoyed that my friend’s camera was broken. However, it’s no use crying over spilt milk, so I went on with my stroll, knowing a wonderful balcony, with the view to the Bosphorous was ahead, as an award and a consolation. I walked for 15 minutes and then arrived to the end of the park, which was raised a bit, there was a small restaurant, tables just next to the fence and the view was soothing and relaxing, so, for a moment, I forgot about my troubles.

The view on the Asian side from Topkapi Palace garden

Moreover, I order a cup of Turkish coffee and although it was a bit pricey (3€) I managed to relax a little bit. I sat there and next to me there was a young couple, I presume Turkish, drinking tea. The woman was sitting with her back turned to me, so I did not see her face, but she was wearing a long coat and a headscarf, while the man was normally dressed. Although I did not understand what they were talking about, I realized they were very much in love, by the look in the man’s eyes, by the girl’s cheerful laughter and by the way they made toasts every time they took more tea from the teapot. I wondered – what is the difference in the behaviour between the girls wearing headscarves and the ones who don’t? Do they do the same things when they are in love? How far do they go? I did not know I would find out the answer a bit later, when, while I was going back, I passed the side of the park with a lot of benches, screened by panels. Then, at each bench I saw a couple- a girl with headscarf and a guy, kissing, whispering something to each other; a boy lying on the bench, his head on a girl’s lap, she is running her fingers through his hair; a boy holding his girlfriend in his hands, kissing her cheek. I was a bit embarrassed, as if I had been disturbing their harmony, so I hurried pass them.
Feeling much better, I remembered I had not visited the Spice Bazaar, although it was the first thing on my list. It is a large building, situated close to the Yeni Mosque and there are always crowds of people around it. Immediately upon entering, the mixed scents of curry, paprika, pepper, teas and spices I cannot even name overpowered me. It is the most colorful place I’ve ever seen in my life and I was ecstatic. However, an important thing slipped my mind – Turks are excellent merchants and they will do everything to make you buy their goods, even if you want to bargain. If you even glance at their stand, they’ll start shouting “Buyrun, buyrun!” (“Here you are! Welcome”), or “Hello, Lady, come, try our spices”. Although I adore shopping, especially for spices and herbs, I could not cope with this aggressive manner. I prefer looking around on my own, without being chased by the seller, whom I turn to only if I cannot find the thing I want. So, after 5 minutes of being shouted at, called and dragged, I though of a brilliant idea – I pretended I was dumb-mute! When I approached a stand and when noisy and overly-enthusiastic merchants approached me, I would simply smile, in an apologetic way, and pointing to my ear, I would shake my hand, mouthing “I cannot hear you”. They were puzzled at first, they would halt a little, keep their breath and then, feeling sorry for me, backed away, pointing at their goods, telling me to keep looking. At one place I must have caused so much pity that the wide-eyed boy working there gave me free halvas and Turkish delight, as if it would compensate for my lack of hearing. At other places, they would insist to find out where I am from, shouting louder when I explained I couldn’t hear. I would simply mouth “Serbia” and then make a movement with my arms as if I was playing basketball and to my amazement, they would all shout:” Oh, Serbia, Serbia, nice, nice!!!” I had to constantly remind myself not to turn automatically when they called me and I think I was pretty good. Surprisingly for me, I left the Bazaar without buying anything, simply because everything was very expensive and I was not in the position to bargain, since I was, of course, dumb-mute.

Sweets and spices at Spice Bazaar

Walking pass all that wonderful sweets and smells reminded me it was already lunch time, so while I was walking on the Galata Bridge, I discovered a lot of small restaurants situated in the bridge itself, offering all sorts of seafood. A sign “Balik Ekmek, 4TL” caught my eye, so I sat down at the only empty table and ordered that famous Turkish dish. It is a fish filet with tomatoes, cabbage and lettuce in a bread roll and it was absolutely delicious.
On my way back to Anıl’s place, I climbed up the extremely steep street leading to the Galata Tower and then walked through the Istiklal Street again, in search for an after-lunch dessert. Soon I arrived to a promising sweet shop, with various halvas, Turkish delights and baklavas in the window and it was enough for me to get in. I’ve heard a lot about the famous Turkish baklavas, so I ordered a portion of 4-5 pieces of different baklavas and sat on a pavement in Istiklal Street to taste them. And they were right – Turkish baklavas are really unique!

Baklavas at Köska sweet shop

Halvas at Köska sweet shop

When I finally arrived at Anıl’s place, Mehdi was there and he offered me some Iranian food. And, how could I resist? I’ve never tried anything Iranian in my life and although I could still taste the sugar and pistachios from the baklavas on my teeth, I said why not. The dish Mehdi prepared was some sort of tomatoes puree with chicken and various vegetables, and as a side dish there was some sort of rice – or at least Mehdi said it was rice, although it seemed more like wheat to me, but anyway, it was delicious and spicy.
When Anıl came back from work, he was really tired, so he, Mehdi and I just took a quick walk back to Istiklal Street again and came back quickly. I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open, but Mehdi made me watch some hilarious “South Park” episodes and so, as another night in Istanbul was falling, we were sitting on a couch, eating ice-creams, watching the cartoon and laughing our heads off.

Istanbul, 17th September, day 4 – Waking up early again, I found Rainer’s text, telling me he would meet his friend Ting-Chung over a breakfast at the Taksim Square and asking me to join. I accepted and we met in front of Starbucks where we decided to have a cup of coffee. I am aware that Starbucks is the last place one should go when in Turkey, however, since we do not have it in Belgrade, I could not resist. Talking over the first morning coffee, I found out that Ting-Chung was born in China, lived in Singapore, had Belgian citizenship and now lived and worked in Istanbul! I always found it strange to hear a typical Asian person talking without the unique Asian accent and especially to see him speaking fluent Turkish, with no foreign accent at all! Then, I found out that, due to some unexpected and unplanned obstacles, I could not go to Bodrum, as I had intended. However, I was not sad as much as I thought I would be. There were so many more places in the city I wanted to go to, so many people to meet, so many food to taste, so many walks to take. The only problem was that I did not want to impose myself at Anıl’s place any longer, so I had to find another host. But, I decided to deal with that later. Rainer and Ting-Chung suggested going for a walk and stopping at, as Ting-Chung said, the best baklavas place in the entire Istanbul. We walked through Istiklal St., then took the tunnel, i.e. a one-stop metro line which takes you all the way down to Galata bridge and then, strolling beside the Karaköy sea port, came to, truly the best sweet shop I’ve ever seen in my life- Karaköy Güllüoğlu. The entire place had the air of aristocracy, the beautiful crystal chandeliers, dark-golden wallpapers, the sweet and polite waiters. But, oh my God, the baklavas…

Baklavas at Karaköy Güllüoğlu

More baklavas

Kadayf

I felt as a child in a toy shop, full of the most wonderful toy shops in the world and I did not know where to look or what to choose. Every single thing looked mouthwatering and scrumptious and had it not been for Ting-Chung to choose for me, I would have definitely left the shop, since such abundance always messes my mind! So, the three of us sat down to eat our desserts and here is how it looked.

Kadayf with kaymak, a glass of çay and baklava mix

I find it really difficult to describe the taste, without getting hungry – the sweet smell of the baklavas tickles your nostrils, arousing the appetite. Sweet, but not excessively sugary, crunchy, but not dry, the pistachio or walnuts filling giving them a delicate taste. The filo pastry is not bland, it is slightly sweet and the pistachio sprinkled on the top intensifies the flavour. When you put them in your mouth, they crisp and melt at the same time and closing your eyes, you surrender to the flavour which sedates you and clears away all the troubles in the world. If there is paradise, I wish it were like this!
I tried some of Ting-Chung’s Kadayf –it’s sweeter than baklavas, covered with sugary syrup but the kaymak (slightly sour dairy product) soothes the sugar rush, so the sweet and sours flavours combine, making Kadayf palatable and inspiring. A glass of non-sweetened çay serves as an antidote for sugar-fever and helps the digestion. I need not mention that I returned to this place a few more times, but each time felt like a completely new moment and each time baklavas tasted differently, opening entirely new taste horizons.

Ting-Chung, Rainer and I over baklavas

After the magical and invigorating dessert, we headed slowly towards the Süleymaniye Mosque complex. It is located on a hill rising above the Galata Bridge and it was a pretty difficult walk, bearing in mind all the baklavas in our stomachs. However, we managed to get to the top, panting, our tongues hanging out. It was Friday, around 1pm, so we could not enter the mosque, since it was prayer time – around 100 men were listening to the sermon, kneeling on rugs in the garden of The Süleymaniye Mosque. On our way up, we passed next to a nargile café, Café Şehr-i Istanbul, and we decided to visit it. It is on a rooftop, from which there is a surreal view on the Golden Horn and the Bosphorous. I even tried apple nargile there, but I have to say I was not overly impressed as people usually are.

The view from the rooftop café

At 3 pm I had to meet my friend’s friend whom I had never seen in my life – a Turkish girl, Kardelen, whom I hosted in Belgrade lives in London now, so she asked her best friend, a beautiful and friendly girl Ecem to show me around. We met at Taksim Square and she took me to an amazing and luxurious place, called Aş (Love) near Ortaköy, situated tight next to the sea. This was my first visit to a really posh place in Istanbul and I loved it. Ecem and I hit it off right away and talked as if we had known each other for a long time. She is blond, with green eyes and I must admit I look more Turkish than her. We also discovered we were both born on nearly the same day (different year, though) and we both shared the passion for shiny, glimmery things. She told me she would really like to visit the Balkans and I suggested Belgrade to be the top of her list, of course. It was with her that I heard a Turkish singer, called Tarkan for the first time, whose songs are already on my iPOD.

In the evening, Anil, Anna and I decided to go for a beer somewhere near Taksim Square. We were supposed to meet Uğur again, who said he would be glad to host me from Saturday on. Walking towards the Istiklal St. Uğur texted me, told me he was finally leaving work (it was almost 9:30pm!) and then surprised me, telling me it was his birthday that evening. It was definitely a cause for a celebration, but, although it was his birthday, I got to choose the place we would go to, so I suggested one of the narrow alleys parallel to the Istiklal St. with a lot of beer houses, crammed next to each other, each with their own either live or radio music and each trying to outloud the neighbouring one. Fervent waiters, whose job is to make you stay at their place, river of people pushing through, small tables and ever smaller stools, mixture of Turkish, rock, pop music contribute to the lively and vibrant atmosphere. I chose a place playing Turkish music, simple because it was the only place with 1 available table. We crammed together at a dwarf-size table and ordered the famous Turkish Efes Beer and some snacks. For an hour or so, we had to shout, since the music was too loud, so talking here is quite impossible. It is funny to look at excited or confused tourists passing by, waiters balancing trays with lots of beer jugs, girls trying to do the belly-dance, but despite it was very chaotic, it was pleasurable and fun and I hope Uğur enjoyed his birthday at least a little bit.

Uğur’s birthday party

A bit later, two other people joined us and we all went to a popular club, at the top floor of a building, which was crowdie and various music was played: American, Turkish, Spanish and to my shock – even Balkan. So, while all others were happily dancing to the sounds of a Bosnian song, not understanding the lyrics, I stood there laughing, since the song said:” Due to money crises, I cannot afford cigarettes, I cannot even afford ganja, although I really feel like some”. We danced and had so much fun, overlooking Istanbul buildings, rooftops and a huge yellow moon, which looked so close to the Earth one could almost grab it. I don’t know how long we stayed there, but the streets were still swarming with people when we left the club. I was amazed to see so many both young and old out at this time of the night. I told myself that if Belgrade never sleeps, then Istanbul never even takes a nap. It’s a city so full of positive vibes and energy, one has to experience it to be able to understand.
This time, I switched off my alarm clock – it was Saturday after all and I had to recharge me batteries. I don’t know what time I went to bed, but I feel asleep as soon as I turned the light off.

Istanbul, 18th September, day 5 – Although we all went to bed quite late, strangely enough, I was the last one to wake up. I did not have any obligations, I had 5 more days ahead in Istanbul, yet, I could not wait to leave the house and start another adventure. Walking along Istiklal St. (eating my simit with cheese and tomatoes) I felt so attracted to this city, so enchanted by it, I felt I had to have the book “Istanbul” by Orhan Pamuk right away. I entered a book shop and bought the book in English and started reading it right away, almost bumping into people and lamp posts. I walked to Eminönü ferry port, my nose stuck in the book and got on a ferry to Kadiköy port on the Asian side, where I was to meet Rainer. While on the ferry, I did not know whether to gaze at the stunning Istanbul scenery, read my new book, spark up a conversation with the first person next to me, or drink tea. In the end, I did a little bit of everything, so the time passed very quickly. Rainer waited for me and we headed through the busy market streets on our way to a tea-garden with the view to the sea. The streets were swarming of people, the scents of spices, fruit, tea, fish, etheric oils and soaps mixing in the air. It was a market day, so it seemed the vendors were even more aggressive and louder than usual, so I wanted to escape the crowd as soon as possible. We passed next to a little waffle restaurant and Rainer suggested having sweets for lunch – and, of course, I agreed. What amazed me most was the abundance of creams, nuts, fruit, jams and spices one could add to the waffle – with such an array of delicacies, one finds it hard to choose. I decided not to think too much and just picked first things I saw – chocolate cream, pistachios cream, almonds, strawberries, etc. And, it was really worth going all the way to the Asian side for this waffle – the name of the place is Kemal Usta – “usta” means Master, Expert and the waffles were really a piece of art.

Scrumptious waffles at Kemal Usta

After the huge meal, we went to a really beautiful tea-garden. We sat in a quite corner in the shade, huge pine trees above us, ordered very good tea, I lifted my legs on an empty chair and talking about movies, languages and history and enjoying the splendid view, we allowed our stomachs digest the waffles. It is amazing how little things in life are usually the best – nothing so important or grand happened that day, but my mind was perfectly at ease, I was relaxed and satisfied as I had not been in a long time. Rainer was a perfect companion at that moment – full of knowledge on various issues, with a subtle sense of humour and a fine taste for food; although our spirits are quite different, we got on really well and met almost every day of my trip.

After getting back to the European side of the city, I experienced one of those rushes and urge to read my book, sitting alone, having a cup of coffee. Although the place I chose was partly a book store and partly a restaurant/ café, it was not a good choice. The music was too loud, the lighting was poor, far too many people, speaking far too loudly were passing by, so I could not really concentrate. I finished the coffee and made my way back to Anıl’s place, buying a piece of halva, one of my favourite orient desserts. I packed my suitcase and then agreed to meet Uğur, Anne and Anıl at Taksim Square, so I made my last walk up the 105 steps, up the steepest streets I’ve ever seen in my life and across Cumhuriyet Street all the way to the square. However, I had Younis as my companion, who spoke about his wild life in Dubai and clashes with Russian mafia, so it seemed we reached the spot in no time. Uğur, Anne and Anıl had been waiting for us in front of Starbucks and we decided to take a walk along Istiklal St. and go in front of the Galata Tower. I think Anıl suggested it and it was a perfect choice! We did not know there was a phenomenal fire performance going on there, so it was a big surprise. A gang of youths, boys and girls, were doing all sorts of crazy things including dancing with batons on fire, juggling with 3-4 fire sticks, spinning a fire pole on shoulders, eating fire and throwing fire like dragons! With each move, a single “Wow” could be heard from the audience and Anne and I had to cover our eyes, since we though they would catch on fire any moment. The drum music and coulourful costumes contributed the performance and it was a thrilling spectacle. We sat in the crowd, among at least 100 people, listened to various world languages, our faces beaming, our cheeks rosy from the heat. Once again, I realized that I could have a great time without pretentious clubs and loud music all night long.

Fire pois

Anne, Uğur, me and Anıl enjoying the performance

After the performance, we walked back to Taksim Sq. again (my 4th time during the day), where we waited for a pirate taxi to take us back to Uğur’s place. Since he lives far from the centre, a regular taxi is too expensive, so anyone who has a car can work as a “pirate driver”. And, God, the young driver was a real pirate – he drove 70km/h through tiny, narrow streets, turning with such ferocity it made my stomach churn, stepped on brakes so suddenly that I jerked forward although my belt was on, I really though we would crash. I am not a coward when it comes to driving fast, but this guy should be banned from driving! Never in my life have I been so lucky to get out of the car alive. Finally safe at Uğur’s place, I had a chance to meet his crazily-sweet room mate, Urün. He is funny and witty, a little shy, but good-hearted, like all Turks I’ve had a chance to meet. We chatted a bit, surfed the Internet and went to bed soon, since we were all exhausted. Again, I did not set my alarm and, although I wanted to read a bit, I think I fell asleep immediately.

Istanbul, 19th September, day 6 – For the first time in my life, I didn’t actually hear the alarm! I was either too tired, or it was due to the earplugs, but I woke up by myself, an hour after the alarm went off with “Paradise City” .Nevertheless, my two room mates were still in bed, but awake, so we started making plans for the day. They were going flat-hunting in the center and I was to meet Anne, Anıl and Mehdi to see a performance with whirling dervishes. The whirling dervish dance originated in Konya, Turkey, inspired by the songs and teachings of the poet Mevlana Rumi, who lived from 1207-1273. Rumi was a Sufi, a branch of Islam that started in the 8th century. Sufis assert that through their religion they are brought closer to the heart of all modes of belief. It was quite an experience, since the performance was not a cheap touristy attraction – the dance took part at a special institution called Yanikapi Mevlevihane, where the dervishes mediate on a regular basis. Although most movements were slow and the music monotonous, it was not at all boring – you could feel their energy and passion and I somehow felt inspired and peaceful when it was over. The entire place actually radiates positive energy and peace and I realized there was really something spiritual, mystic and divine to it.

Whirling dervishes’ performance

Having left the Mevlevihane, Anne decided to join me for my walk around a very conservative and traditional part of the city called Fatih. It was strange because suddenly, all the hustle and bustle of Istanbul main streets was gone, to give way to shabbier houses, mosques at every corner and a lot of women in headscarves. We walked to the central area, close to Fatih Mosque and then meandered through narrow market streets – what really surprised me was that vendors were not at all imposing and loud and prices were reasonable. We could peacefully look at various sacks with nuts, teas, spices, cheese, desserts, fruit and vegetables, without being pursuit by annoying vendors. We shared a bag of nuts, talking about cultural diversities and differences, the Balkan area, Germany, Turkey – observing how Turkish men are quite different to what we are used to and that they are still conservative from our point of view. Still absorbed in the conversation we proceeded towards the sea-side, passing through crooked alleys, being carefully inspected by a group of teenage boys. It was clear how this part was different despite being in the very heart of the city. We reached the sea and then walked next to the Golden Horn, pass the people picnicking on large, colourful rugs, then walked across the Atatürk Bridge, just in time when the sun was setting down. Istanbul skyline seemed even more magnificent in the dusk –fading sun rays illuminate the impressive domes of the mosques, turning them into gold which is a splendid contrast to the violet sky. The glimmering Bosphorous dazzles you and the fresh, cool wind plays with your hair. Two white sky-scrapers, rising about the old, gray houses at the outskirts of the city fit the scenery perfectly, giving this old city a modern outfit and spirit. Istanbul united the old and the new, the East and the West in such a harmonious way and sublime way – it would not be the same without one of its faces, this mixture of the two opposites is what makes it so surreal. Crossing the bridge and running across the street in a typical Turkish manner, we somehow ended up in an area, full of small auto mechanic shops, so silent and deserted it was almost creepy. It seemed the place itself it dead, since there was no one there apart from us two and again it felt like the time had stopped and all the people had vanished. However, we quickly reached the shore again and then passed through a fish market, packed with vendors offering still alive fish and crabs. We reached the Karaköy port and, naturally, I suggested going to the baklavas place. Anne agreed, so we were soon sitting, eating the most delicious dessert in the world, mmmm-ing with each mouthful, enjoying it with every atom of the body. I had a kadayf this time, with the delightful kaymak. I forgot about the diets, calories counting, resolutions I will not eat after 6pm – at that particular moment I was in a food-heaven with Anne and I did not want to go back to reality. Despite my constant obsession with diets and training, I would never, ever have deprived myself of this moment. I would never give up this feeling I had when I tasted the baklavas – I’ve reconciled with the fact that I’ll never be as thin as I would like, but then again, I’d rather be chubby and happy, then thin and miserable, because I cannot eat delicious food.
After our baklavas-moment, Anne went home to study, while I made my way across the Galata Bridge, towards the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia. I simply had to see them again; I had to feel that awe and to soak in the tranquility they emit. I arrived in front of the Blue Mosque, which seemed even grander and more dramatic. I sat on a bench and started at, as enchanted. It woke up the little piece in my soul, which always craves for new travels, new discoveries, new horizons. It made me realize that such moments give me so much energy, so much passion – these moments are my opium, my driving force, my basic necessity. I realized nothing in this world can compare with that. Nothing can make me so perfectly and utterly satisfied like this craving for the beauties of the world, nothing can inspire me so much – comparing to the moments like this, everything else seems so shallow, so small, so meaningless, so boring. I was sitting on the bench, amid lots of people and I was not at all lonely. I had Istanbul as my companion. The soul of this city is my soul-mate. I felt its power, its eons of history, I could hear the melodies of Constantinople and Istanbul merged in a perfect harmony; it materialized in front of me and I could embrace it; this city touched the bottom of my soul, filling it with its scents and sounds and engraved its name on my heart. I think this moment over-powered me so much I fell in some kind of a trance and I realized that for a moment, I had been disconnected with the reality. I got up and walked back to the Hagia Sophia, to be over-seized once again. This centuries-old edifice bears the entire history of the city in it – it has been transformed so many times, it has witnessed several falls and rises and still stands there, proudly defying the old-ages. To me, the Hagia Sophia represents the reconciliation between the people, religions – a proof that we are all the same and that we can live in a harmonious unity regardless of who we call God. I made my way back, taking the same road, whose bends and corners I’ve already known by heart, meandered through the port area, next to my dear Yeni Mosque, across the good old Galata Bridge, zigzagged through rivers of people in Istiklal St., all the way to Taksim Square and Starbucks. Having to wait for Uğur to come pick me up, I ordered a cup of tasteless tea at Starbucks and opened a huge city map. I marked the path I’d crossed that day and realized I had walked quite a lot. I was tired, but over the moon happy. Uğur arrived promptly so I quickly packed my maps and books and, taking a mini-bus, I told him about my impressions from that day. I think my eyes were sparkling and my face was glowing while I was giving him the details of my walks, as I was showing him the magnets I had bought, as I was going on and on about how much I like it. I realized, also, that I only get this excited when I fall in love. And, that night, I’ve fallen in love with Istanbul.

Istanbul, 20th September, day 7 – It was Monday and I really wanted to wake up early, since I could feel the time rushing past me. I took the bus and again witnessed the unlimited kindness and helpfulness of the Turkish – since I was gazing through the window in order to get off at the right stop, folding and unfolding my huge map at the same time, two-middle aged men suddenly started telling me the names of each stop, since they couldn’t speak any English. To them, I must have seemed like a lost child and they wanted to do everything to help me. I got off at Aksaray, then took a mini-bus to Eyüp area, to a little hill rising at the very end of the Golden Horn. All across the slope of the little hill, there is a grave yard, with white tomb stones, above which a cableway takes people up and down the steep side. I took the cableway, and I have to admit it was a little bit scary – you are lifted high above the ground, the view spreads even to the Galata Tower, you’re lifted higher and higher, a cemetery under you, the tombstones closer the higher you get.

The view from the cableway

Cemetery right below you

Thankfully, the ride lasted only 2 minutes and I was happy to feel the ground under my feet. To my surprise there was a small café right on the top and I immediately decided to sit there and have a glass of tea. A loud group of Spanish and Greek tourists arrived shortly after me; however, the view and the tea switched me to a Zen -mode, so nothing could distract me.

The view from Pierre Lotin on the Golden Horn

Having finished the second cup of tea, to which I had become addicted by then, I decided walk all the way to the Galata Tower. From here, it didn’t seem so far, if one crosses the bridge right away and then walk next to the sea all the way to the center. However, it wasn’t as I had planned, since there are only a few areas in Istanbul, where you can walk next to the sea. The Sun was high up in the zenith and the road took me through a very busy and polluted street, next to suspicious little shops and parts of the city. It then turned sharply to the right and up the hill, next to tall walls of some military objects, with “No trespassing!!!” signs. There was no shade and the sun became extremely fierce. There wasn’t even a single place where you could rest and for a moment I felt exasperated and annoyed. However, I kept on walking and suddenly came to a large cemetery and the road was leading right through it. Luckily, it was a main road, so I did not actually have to walk beside tombstones. At one point, the road was leading to the sea again, however, I could not walk beside it, because of more military and navy objects in whose property I did not want to trespass. I walked on and luckily, the area became busier, there were people walking by, teenagers coming out of school, busses rushing next to me. I finally reached the Atatürk Bridge, but since it is a part of a highway, crossing it and hopping across the banisters was not a safe or an easy task – it took me 15 minutes and I could not see any traffic lights or underpasses. However, I was next to the sea again and that cheered me up. Remembering the little restaurant I saw when I was walking through the same area with Anne the previous day, I decided to have a rest there and eat something healthy. I ordered a fish, whose name I did not know and I must admit it was not as delicious as I though it would be. But, I was to meet Rainer, right after that, over baklavas, so I didn’t care. I was so embarrassed by being unable to skip this delicacy, so I could not admit it to Rainer that I had been to the baklava place the previous day. Nevertheless, my body was craving for them and after all, hadn’t I been walking for 2,5 hours before that? After saying good-bye to Rainer, I remembered that I had not seen the Grand Bazaar yet. I strolled through the crooked little streets, with shops full of clothes, pottery, glass, jewelry, haberdasheries and toys, looking inquisitively at all that colours and shapes, running away as soon as a seller spotted me. And then I reach the Grand Bazaar – at that moment, I felt it was a gate to heaven – however, a little later I realized it was a gate to hell!

The entrance to the Grand Bazaar

The name says everything – a vast building, with painted and peeling ceilings and criss-crossing alleys, creating a giant labyrinth, shops selling probably anything you can think of all around, rivers of people looking, bargaining, buying, being ripped off… At first I was exhilarated – I was walking without any particular direction, turning when attracted by something, not knowing where to look first, up, down, left or right. All above me there hung expensive rugs, colourful scarves and pashminas, extraordinary chandeliers, exquisite 18-carat gold jewelry, wonderful leather jackets, skirts and dresses adorned with beads, sequins and pearls, fluorescent wigs; every little part of the place was festooned with something eye-catching and so shiny it simply dizzies you.

Details from Grand Bazaar

Nazar amulets

Completely dazzled and captivated, I walked roamed around, pretending not to hear the cries of the belligerent sellers, who were ready to do anything it takes to persuade you into buying their goods. Suddenly, my mobile phone rang and, still walking on, I started replying the text, not lifting my head. The next moment, I bumped into a man – a tall, thin Turk, in his 20, with a beard and piercing green eyes was standing in front of me, as if he had been waiting for me to collide with him. I apologized, smiled and wanted to go around him when he suddenly blocked my way and asked me where I was from. I gulped, replied his question and then he clutched me for my wrist and dragged me into his little shop, full of scarves, before I even had a chance to resist! He kept on interrogating me, while I was giving him vague answers, my voice trembled and my palms started sweating. He told me to pick a scarf and although there were at least 1000 different ones, I only pretended to be scanning them, while actually I was thinking how to get out of the store immediately. I told him I was quite indecisive and he replied that he knew how to deal with me. Although he was standing behind me, I could feel his x-ray eyes, inspecting every part of my body, while I was sweating even more and my mouth became dry, my legs paralyzed. I felt like a zebra, being scrutinized by a gluttonous lion, ready to pounce and eat me alive any second! Then, he took one scarf and started wrapping it around me – this was the end – I screamed and started unwrapping the damned thing maniacally, shaking him off with my hands and then stormed out of the shop. I remember I was running though a maze of long corridors, all looking exactly the same, next to numerous shops and puzzled vendors, having no idea where I had come from. I was in such a state of panic that when I found exit, I could not locate its position on the map, so I entered the Bazaar again, hopelessly trying to find the entrance I had first taken. After what seemed like an eternal directionless running, I somehow managed to get back to the starting point and then I found a little bench and collapsed onto it – my neck, my head, my back were totally wet, the T-shirt stuck for my body. My hands were shaking and my legs were trembling. To a random passer-by, I must have seemed as if I had been chased by Ali-Baba and 40 bandits! I pulled myself together and then realized I did not remember which way I had come from, but again, a helpful Turk, realizing I was a bit edgy, asked me where I was going, I mumbled “Eminönü” and speaking Turkish he pointed the way: straight, left, right, left, down… Having reached the port, my previous stress and panic seemed pretty funny, but it was an uncontrolled reaction and I could not have helped it. It might have been the culmination of all the annoyance with being chased by sellers and the crowd. I boarded a ferry and, as compensation for the stress, I witnessed a spectacular sunset, which turned the sky into all shades of pink, blue and purple and the rays shimmered on the water. Several seagulls were flying close to me, probably used to being fed by simits. A cool wind blowing in my face was just what I needed and I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the magnificent Istanbul skyline, breathed in the scent of the sea and tea and I felt all the anxiousness fading, my energy rising and I was as good as new. Having arrived to Beşiktaş port, I waited for Uğur, scribbling down the impression from the day in my little notepad. He arrived promptly, along with Urün and his girlfriend, we went to have something to eat. We sat at a little tavern and I let them order whatever they wanted, knowing I would like it. To my surprise, they ordered kebabs, and I was happy to taste them and compare them to their Serbian version. The taste was more or less the same, although they were smaller and with less onion. Nevertheless, as all Turkish food, they were delectable.

Turkish kebabs with chilly pepper

After dinner we had tea (what else!) and then we headed home. I was particularly tired that evening and I could not wait to drift into a wonderful kingdom of dreams.

Istanbul, 21st September, day 8 – I woke up early again, but this time, sunrays were not there to greet me. Instead, a grey sky and heavy clouds almost certainly announced rain, but not even storm could have stopped me from going out. I put on my jacket and headed for Aksaray again, decisive to walk even more than yesterday. From Aksaray stop, where I had a Turkish pastry for breakfast called Aycöregi, I took the Kennedy Ave, which goes next to the sea and then I turned into a little street, with an intention to come to the Küçuk Hagia Sophia Mosque. All of a sudden, it seemed as if I had entered a totally different city, in the 19th century. In narrow, cobbled streets, the usual grey concrete buildings gave way to blue, brown, purple and green wooden houses, with protruding closed balconies and splendidly decorated façades and window frames.

I passed next to a kahvehane, where a group of middle-aged and elderly men were busy sipping tea, playing cards, chess or backgammon. I curiously stopped to examine them better and they also curiously scrutinized me. I walked through these alleys, with Küçuk Hagia Sophia as my destination, but for the first time, I did not look at my map; I zigzagged, led only by my instinct and shortly I was there. I had no intention of entering the mosque, since there were a lot of people inside, but I spotted a garden behind it, with several tables and the çay-time alarm went off. I sat at a small, wooden table, just next to a lawn on which several cats were sleeping. At a little wall behind my chair I saw a kitten which lazily lifted it head when it saw me. I started stroking it and it was obvious it enjoyed it since it started purring. I lifted it and placed it on my lap and the kitten curled up and continued napping. A waiter arrived and I ordered a glass of delicious çay, and opened my “Istanbul” book, still stroking the adorable fur ball on my lap. This might have easily been one of the most beautiful moments of my journey. It wasn’t either too cold or too hot, there was a light breeze and some sunrays protruding from the dark clouds, the sweet scent of hydrangea flowers in the air, birds chirruping, the kitten still purring in my lap - I found a sleepy oasis in the middle of the city that never sleeps and I loved it.

My adorable furry friend

I read a chapter describing the Bosphorous area from the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, about yalıs, buildings built right next to the sea, about the remains of the glorious Ottoman Empire. One sentence caught my eye:” Life cannot be all that bad. Whatever happens, I can always take a walk along the Bosphorous”, said Orhan Pamuk, the best Turkish living novelist. I was not at all sad or disillusioned at that moment, but after the second glass of tea and 20 pages read, I felt an indescribable urge to take a long stroll next to the sea. The kitten rushed like a lightning upon the smell of food that the keeper of the mosque gave them, I paid only 2 TL for the tea and headed towards the Sultan Ahmed area. Yet again, I was amazed by the incomparable beauty of The Blue and The Hagia Sophia mosques and I paused to take some photos and enjoy their majesty one last time.

The view on the Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Mosque)

Walking the path I have taken so many times, I crossed the Galata bridge and shortly arrived to the Karaköy port, then made my way next to the Nusretiye Mosque, all the way straight to Kabataş port, further up next to Beşiktaş port and even further to the Ortaköy Mosque and the Bosphorous Bridge. It was quite a long walk, but it was pleasurable, since the road took me next to former palaces, which are now turned into ostentations hotels and several high schools, in front of which I saw groups of uniformed students, giggling and shouting coming back from school. However, the walk did exhaust me a bit and my stomach was complaining. I was told by several people that Ortaköy was the best place to try another Turkish dish – kumpir. It is a large baked potato, cut in half, served with various salads (mayonnaise salad, cheese salad, etc.), vegetables (sweet corn, olives, pea, cabbage, cuscus, wheat…), butter, cheese, mustard, ketchup, etc. Since it is taken out straight from the oven, the butter which is spread in large amounts melts, thus turning the baked potato into a soft and creamy mashed potato which dissolves in your mouth. Sitting on a bench that overlooks the bridge and the wavy sea, I enjoyed every bite of kumpir, trying hard not to smear myself, since the potato was so unselfishly stuffed with everything I chose.

Kumpir

Having finished my lunch, I really wanted to relax and read my book, so I bought an ice-cream and sat on the same bench, engrossed into stories and descriptions of the city. I must have sat there for 2 hours, because I realized by the fact I cannot see well any more, that it was getting dark, but I really did not want to leave. Thus, I took a walk through the little streets, where various jewelry were sold on stalls and could not help but not noticing a huge cat, peacefully napping on top or nazar amulets, leather bags and other odds and ends. I found it very funny and took a photo of it, but an elderly lady started yelling at me in Turkish so loudly that I swiftly ran away.

An unbelievably large cat

I spotted a little, traditional-like café and I went inside. All the chairs and tables were covered with dark red fabric, with embroidered golden patterns and shapes. Everything was made of dark wood, the only odd-one-out being a large plasma TV, playing Turkish pop music. However, I liked the atmosphere and I ordered two çays and absorbed in the book, spent another hour and a half there, when Uğur texted me and told me he would meet me at Taksim Square in an hour. Knowing he had a bad day at work, I wanted to surprise him and cheer him up and I hoped that some baklavas would be the best choice. Hopping on the first bus that passed by, I got off at Kabataş stop and then literally ran, as if I was chased, to Karaköy port to the Güllüoğlu sweet shop, bough a pack of baklavas, then ran back to Kabataş port to take a metro stop to Taksim square. I was a bit late and Uğur was there, looking really under the weather. I took the baklavas out of my bag and held the pack in front of him, apologizing for being late, justifying it with the fact I had to make a detour in order to buy him something to cheer him up. His eyes smiled at me and I could see that he lightened up a bit, although he was also feeling sick. We then walked to the end of Istiklal St., pushing through the crowd, where we met Urün, also coming back from work. We must have seemed very amusing –two exhausted businessmen in suits, carrying laptop cases and a shaggy girl, also tired, in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a pink, sequin elephant, carrying a massive bag and a box of baklavas! We dragged ourselves to the street where a “pirate” cab was waiting for us, luckily not the crazy one from several nights ago, and we made our way home.
Going to bed that evening I realized that I was really lucky since it had not rained at all that day. Actually, I did not even think about it, because I knew that not even a downpour could spoil my lasts days in Istanbul.

Istanbul, 22nd September, day 9 – I woke up with one thing and one question on my mind –how to make the most of my last day in Istanbul? Without any particular plan, I got on the bus heading to Taksim Square and then agreed with Rainer to meet at Beşiktaş port and go to an old fortress close to F.S.M. Bridge. At Taksim, having bought a warm, delicious, mouth-watering çatal, I sat on the pavement, overlooking The Independence Monument and imagined how wonderful it would be to live here! Naturally, I would have to get used to crowds, traffic jams and violent merchants, but I’d be able to enjoy the Bosphorous, the food, the sights and most importantly, I would make more friends with various people living here and that would make up for all the disadvantages. I also realized that due to my inability to resist tasty food, I would probably gain weight. I took that as a strong excuse, but deep in my heart, I knew that I would stay there without thinking it twice if I were offered a chance! As always, I decided to take another long walk to Beşiktaş port and on the way, I had another piece of çatal. I love this path, from Taksim square to the sea, because it goes downhill. You can see the sea from the top, disappearing slowly as you go further down, only to appear again in front of you, spreading across the horizon. I walked on and, in short time, Rainer was there to greet me as usual. What I like about him most, is his German punctuality and organization, which actually hide a warm, humorous, cordial and quite amusing person. We got on a bus and I sat on, as Rainer put it, “superb seats with the view” and riding towards Rumeli Hisari, we were looking at the sparkling Bosphorous in all its grandeur. Unfortunately, when we arrived there and wanted to enter the high tower, we found out it was closed on Wednesdays only! It was a bit exasperating, but not as exasperating as having to pay 5 TL for a bland tea we had at a little café afterwards. We decided to walk back and this was one of the most beautiful walks I took in Istanbul, since the path goes directly by the sea for several kilometers – on the left peaceful water lulls big and small yachts, of the most amusing and witty names, while on the right in the hills, tall pine trees hide away splendid villas. We imagined how it would be like to live in one of those and whether it would be too much traffic jams and noise, but in the end, we concluded we wouldn’t complain at all if one offered us to live there- possibly with a little yacht at service, in order to avoid the jams. We walked all the way to Ortaköy port and then decided to have something to eat. As I was pretty indecisive, Rainer suggested trying a Turkish dish called “Pide”. Despite eating it at a suspicious little restaurant, it was scrumptious and appetizing and ayran gave it a special flavour.

Pide

Although I knew I shouldn’t and although I knew I had had enough, I could not take it and not eat the best dessert in the world one last time – baklavas, of course. In Belgrade, I would never allow myself to eat so much sugar in a week, but, I’m on vacation, I told myself, so, I might as well surrender myself one last time. Off we went to my favourite sweet shop in Istanbul and this time, I enjoyed each bite even more, knowing I would not find a place like this back home.

This is where I said good-bye to Rainer, trying hard to persuade him to visit the Balkans. We shook hands and agreed to meet again somewhere and share the unique moments of walking, talking and eating. Having had such an abundant lunch, I made myself walk the steep streets up to the Galata Tower, where I sat on a bench and enjoyed the tranquility of being on my own. Strangely enough, I really took great pleasure in my solitary walks – not that I avoided other people, but sometimes, me, myself and I are the only company I need. However, I did not have a desire to spend the rest of the day with these 3 and luckily, Uğur finished work on time, so we met at Istiklal St. and then I made him company for lunch, since I could not even look at food any more – well, I could look, but although what he had looked tempting, I could not even force myself to try it.

Uğur’s lunch - Kebab with ayran

I have already become half-Turkish by then – crossing the street wherever I wanted, eating baklavas every day and drinking 10 glasses of tea a day! So, when Anne and Anıl joined us later that evening, we went to one of the back alleys of Istiklal St. to have yet another tea, at one of the many çay places. While we were talking, I realized how much I had become fond of these 3 people for such a short time: of Anıl, who is not so talkative and does not show his feelings so overtly, but I knew he enjoyed the moments we had together as much as I did; of Anna, whose passion for Turkish and Turkey amazed me and reminded me of my own passion for Greek and Greece; of Uğur, who welcomed me in his home unselfishly and who found some time to spend with me each day, despite the chaos at work. I created a picture in my mind of all the places I would take them to, of all the things I would show them if they visited me in Belgrade. It was a very pleasurable evening; I only wished Mehdi and Younis were with us, too.

Anne, me, Uğur and Anıl

We were all tired, especially Uğur who was in his business suit, so I said “See you soon!” to Anne and Anıl, because I truly believe I will see them again someday.
Back at Uğur’s place, we talked and talked until we both dozed off. It was a perfect ending of a perfect day of one of the most inspiring, delicious and fulfilling journeys of my life. I discovered totally new horizons, met wonderful people, made friends, enjoyed delightful food, saw so many majestic and splendid things and completely recharged my batteries for the winter months so come. My mind and soul were so full of impressions of this glorious city, that it took me several days to “come back to normal” in Belgrade. I honestly believe that one piece of me had stayed in Istanbul, luring me to come back again.

I absolutely love everything about this city, even the traffic jams and the crazy merchants! It is unique and unlike any other city I’ve visited so far. It’s chaotic and messy, loud and exuberant, energetic and powerful, dazzling and mesmerizing, it literally enters your under your skin and you cannot shake it off. It grasps your soul and holds it firmly, making it impossible not to have a strong desire to return. There is something so supernatural about it, something unexplainable, something you’ll never forget. There are some magnificent cities I’ve visited, but that I don’t have a strong desire to go back to. However, I’d return to Istanbul any time and I feel its magnets attracting me to it every day. I am quite sure I’ll go back in the future, because it’s impossible to restrain.

Maya's thoughts and adventures

Sunday, November 7, 2010

My Love

Thursday, October 14, 2010

My food pilgrimage to Turkey