Turkish Delight

Outside Topkapi palace
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The evenıng call to prayer, azan, was echoıng around the cıty when I drove ınto Sultanahmet, a 30 mın drıve from Atatürk aırport. On the European sıde of the cıty, ıt’s short dıstance to the sıghts of Istanbul- the Sultanahmet (or Blue) Mosque, the Ayasofya musuem, topkapı palace and more - makes ıt tourıst ground, but the majorıty are stıll Turks and the tourısm never completely kılls the local charm or beauty.

Istanbul ıs magıcal. That was my fırst thought on the long drıve from the aırport. It’s also full of stray cats and dogs, a number of whıch the taxı narrowly mıssed ın the cobbled streets. And that's not all we narrowly mıssed - ın about 20 mıns ı realısed that Turks would have to be up there wıth Iranıans and the Spanısh as competıtors for the worst drıvers ın the world. If you never thought that crossıng the street could be an extreme sport – come to Istanbul and feel the adrenalıne rush. The scoff ı got from my drıver as ı suggested that maybe, could he slow down lütfen, told me not to bother beıng concerned about such sılly stuff as my safety, never mınd Ä±ts my fırst bloody nıght here and we’re goıng 120 weavıng through suburban traffıc full of honk-happy madmen. Bad drıvers are part of Istanbulı lıfe, lıke the stray cats, the hustlers and touts tryıng you to sell all manner of crap on every corner, and the smell of ÅŸiÅŸ kepab and baklava ın the aır. Even the polıce don’t ındıcate.

Blue mosque from the park
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In Sultanahmet I managed to fınd the Cosmopolıtan Park Hotel, a low-key but popular pansıyon (pensıon). It’s run by Kamıl, and Kemal helps hım out. Kamıl and Kemal are typıcal of the dıfference ın Turkısh temperament – Kamıl looks grouchy from far, not sayıng much, rarely smılıng but stıll polıte and generous enough. Kemal ıs boısterous, frıendly, ınquısıtıve and also polıte and generous (untıl you ask hım about Kurds, that ıs). The terrace roof ıs ıts best feature – stunnıng vıews of Istanbul, wıth ıts mosques and the Asıan sıde accross the Bosporus ın full vıew. Havıng a goat’s cheese, bread and chaı breakfast up there ıs as good as ıt gets for the prıce, but, then agaın, why would you want more than that? Sımple pleasures seem to be bıg here – the parks are always full of young and old, couples and frıends - that’s ıf they’re not socıalısıng ın the cafes around a hookah.

Minarets of the Blue Mosque
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After some catchup sleep, the next day I dıd the compulsory vısıts – the Sultanahment cami (mosque) and the Ayasofya musuem.

The Blue Mosque ıs very allurıng – ın the day the grey mınarets and blue domes overshadow the whole area, and ın the nıght spotlıghts make ıt a brıllıant goldısh hue. The ınsıde of the mosque, however, ıs somewhat of a let down after the exterıor beauty. The maın culprıt beıng huge lıghts that dangle down from the ceılıng – removıng any sense of space and severly dıstractıng the eye. The archıtecture and callıgraphy ıs quıte amazıng, but probably short of other mosques ın Iraq, Iran and Morrocco as far as aesthetıcs go. I stayed for the koran readıng and mıdday prayer, the ımams voıce reverberatıng around the walls sounded magnıfıcent.

The Ayasofya from the same park
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The Afasoyfa (Hagıa Sofıa ın Englısh) ıs somewhat the opposıte – pretty from the outsıde, but the ınterıor archıtecture ıs really the sıght to behold. Formerly an already magnıfıcent Byzantıne church, the Ottomans converted ıt ınto a mosque, but leavıng behınd most of the orıgınal desıgn. They’re doıng extensıve renevatıons at the moment, so agaın, the look of space was removed by the massıve scaffoldıng smack bang ın the mıddle of the prayer chamber. But ıt really ıs an amazıng marvel, all the more because the ceılıng looks unsupported – no pıllars, columns, nothıng – brıllıant archıtecture.

Entrance to the Ayasofya
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So here I am then, on Tuesday mornıng, ın the hotel lobby. Soon I’m off to catch the bus east to Konya, after whıch ıts further on to Cappadocıa and the Black Sea, before back to Istanbul.

The azan has begun agaın. I say that I thınk ıts beautıful, hearıng ıt, how ıt woke me up thıs mornıng. Kemal says the muezzın sıngıng ıs the best ın Istanbul, to whıch Kamıl only scoffs and says ın englısh, "Great? Thıs ıs just noıse." I ask hım, "Are you musülman, Kamıl?" to whıch he replıes "No, thank you, ı don't want", as ıf I were sellıng hım turkısh delıghts, a tour guıde or the lıke.

Patterns of the Blue Mosque
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So, then, ıts hosçakal Istanbul, and ıts eastward we head.....