Travel Journal V

Our planeride to Istanbul was blessedly short, not quite lasting an hour after takeoff. From there, an extraordinarily bumpy bus ride brought us to the terminal. Lacking a window seat on the plane (it was taken by the very smelly Turk in a business suit) this was my first chance to really catch a glimpse of Istanbul.

Not to dog on the place, but for a traveler unfamiliar with large cities, it instantly feels crowded and stuffed. Istanbul has more than 12 million residents, and that number swells during tourist season. The cab ride to Carl’s office took substantially longer than the plane ride, and traffic on the highways is at such a standstill that vendors can walk along the road peddling drinks. This congestion continues through the night and into the wee hours of the morning; Istanbul never sleeps. Also, and this was a problem in Ankara as well, the air quality is oppressively poor. Turkey lacks the emissions regulation common in the US, so the smog can get pretty bad. It’s not so awful as to ruin your day, but at its worst it can irritate your eyes and it smells pretty foul.

Despite, or perhaps because of all these things, however, Istanbul feels like a living, breathing creature for all this activity. The enormous crowds, constant traffic, and ever visible evidence of industry lend the city a vibrant quality. It hustles and bustles with millions of human beings, whose combined activity, more than anything else, make Istanbul what it is.

We took a cab down to Taksim square, and walked through a gigantic version of the alleyway bazaar I described from Ankara. This was an evening in an entertainment district, however, so most of the open shops were restaurants and clubs, or street vendors peddling souvenirs and local cuisine.

The main event of the evening, without a doubt, was dinner. Carl and his coworkers took me to my first real Turkish restaurant. The city compensates for its massive population by building upwards, so actually getting to the restaurant involved climbing several flights of stairs to reach the small landing where we ate. A small Turkish band played us some dinner music, and we tucked into a massive assortment of appetizers. The band would play loudly right in your ear until tipped, but otherwise provided good background music; one player had a specially extended clarinet to reach people at the far end of the table.

The food included a kind of very sour yogurt, melon salsa, bread, a block of hummus (with a texture like tofu), pickled peppers, various cheeses, seaweed salid with garlic, and dulma, which is basically rice and spices wrapped in grape leaves. It was very similar to greek food, but apparently you don't want to say that to a Turk. We also had a rather stiff liquor called Raki, which, when mixed with water, had an appearance and flavor that was indistinguishable from Absinthe. Later that evening, I had some excellent muscles and kokaroch, which is basically intestines and heart and miscellaneous leftover body parts processed into a kind of mush. The latter wasn't exactly delicious, but it was pretty cheap. The muscles were also served fried in a sandwhich in garlic sauce, but I preferred the straight.

As you walk around Taksim, various peddlers will sell little festive objects, like helicopters with LEDs, glowing demon horn hats, and light-up halos. Near the end of our walk, we encountered a man with a small makeshift table,atop which sat a rabbit with two babies. The gentleman informed us that this was a fortune telling rabbit, and for three lira he would read all our fortunes. We gave it a try, and the man held a small board with a series of papers on it, and the rabbit would pick a piece of paper off the board, and drop it down for us to pick up. According to this clairvoyant carrot-muncher, I have been hesitating on moving forward in my life and I need to take the next step. Smart bunny. It also seemed to be telling Carl that, while googletranslate is an impressive bit of technology, it can only be trusted so far.

Shortly after this display, Some police came driving up the road. The man hastily crammed the rabbit back into a shelf under the table, folded it up, and took off down the street at a verifiable sprint. We think that perhaps the rabbit was hot.

We walked around for a bit more, took some pictures, and then caught a cab ride home.

Next time on Ben's Travel log: bazaars, mosques, and Turkish gunshops.