2010 Trip: Istanbul Day 1
3rd May 2010
Arriving at Istanbul at 2:20am was not something I was expecting to enjoy; I was expecting a deep and overriding desire to fall asleep where I stood, long waits for things to even open, and after four flights, for my luggage to have been delayed somewhere. But for the most part, everything went smoothly, customs only took ten minutes!
I caught a 4am bus into town (all the pretty lights!) and wandered without a map in the direction of Simon’s abode. This involved being accosted by a couple of prostitutes who seemed very determined to take me somewhere for sex and eventually finding the right place. Happily I set about texting Simon to let me in, eventually after issues with roaming we made contact and I managed to drag him out of bed far too early in the morning! (Sorry, Simon!
We chatted and breakfasted until he had to go to work and with Simon’s instruction, I set out on the metro to the other side of town for a jaunt across uncovered territory. I have been to Istanbul before, almost exactly five years ago. This involved a metro, funicular (cable-car), and tram. The public transport system could best be described as chaotic, though fairly comprehensive. There are trams, ferries, metro lines, buses, and various other A to B devices.
Simon lives in Sisli, an inner city suburb to the north-east of the old Byzantine city. I was headed to its western border, where a great Byzantine fortification to defend the city against it’s Ottoman neighbors once stood. But in 1453, the combined force of the now strong Ottoman empire crushed the city, employing 10m long canons (with 80cm canon balls) and a huge force of men to push back the defenders. The 1453 Panorama Museum shows this event in life size detail in a massive dome-shaped panorama. The museum itself is constantly infiltrated with orchestrated modern day armies of school children, swarming and flooding the place. As an obvious English speaker, I suddenly became an instant celebrity. Suddenly, kids swarmed me, asking me my name and shaking my hand. Eventually, their harried teachers decided that this wasn’t becoming behaviour and apologetically gathered their charges.
While just outside the museum, I also had the pleasure of chatting with two Turkish soldiers. In fairly broken English, they told me about conscription in Turkey and the different amounts of time that are required (6 or 15 months) for service. Both of them were not particularly enamoured of the whole business and luckily (for them) had only a week to go. They had ambitious plans to continue their studies (which they had been dragged out of) overseas.
Following these revealing encounters, I set out to walk from the centre of the wall, to the Golden Horn (river) to the north. There were very few tourists around, even despite the magnificent remains of the ancient walls. The walls that provided the 6km of landward defence against marauding armies. They consisted for 4 levels of fortification. Firstly a deep moat that now no longer exists, second a 2m high wall, thirdly (only a few meters behind) a 8m high wall with 10m tall towers. Finally behind it a 12 meter high wall with 14m towers every 40 or so meters. A behemoth! A surprising amount still exists, considering it was crushed by the over-powered Ottoman forces.
It is not in a particularly wealthy district, for the most part, and the homeless shelter between the medium and large walls. I saw three Turkish individuals urinating on the wall in a heroically unintended and ironic gesture. Istanbul is no Geneva. It is not a clean city, stray dogs and cats (especially cats) can be found nonchalantly wandering around most streets. Rubbish assaults the senses.
On the way, I stopped at an old church, commonly known as Chora. It used to be part of an old monastery that was abandoned during the invasion in 1453. It has a fantastic set of frescoes and mosaics. I particularly enjoyed watching the tourists either follow like sheep or rush from room to room with little attention paid.
Once the Golden Horn was reached, I headed west along the river to Eyup. In this rather conservative neighbourhood, I briefly visited the Eyup Sultan Camii, an important pilgrimage mosque. The tomb of Eyup Ensari, the prophet’s standard bearer, being the main attraction. On the hill above, paths zigzag among grave-areas tessellated into areas for each family. I caught a gondola to the top, snacked and admired the stunning view, before wandering back down.
I then walked all the way back to Eminonu and was very tired at the end of it. Later that evening, I met up with Paula and Bree and we came back to Simon’s and chatted before I fell asleep exhausted.