When in Rome do as the Byzantines Do: Part 1, Istanbul

Ello Mates, so where did we leave off? Ohh yeah, I was destitute, hungry, and deaf sitting in the Zurich International Airport. After I left Switzerland, everything seemed to get better.

Friday 22 March 2013

7:22 AM

Antique Hostel Room #3

Wow was it ever great to wake up in a real bed, I thought to myself as the annoying buzz of my phone persisted. The sky was overcast, but I didn’t mind. I was in Istanbul. Today I was indomitable! Grabbing a change of clothes, I took a quick shower, and then went up to the rooftop terrace where breakfast was being served. Picky people are hungry people. When you’re travelling especially, I feel it is important to avoid being hungry.

So I filled my plate up with a number of things that I normally wouldn’t associate with breakfast. Unfortunately bacon is strictly off the menu in Turkey. Incidentally, these were also things I wouldn’t normally choose to eat, such as a pasta salad thing, and some particularly pungent cheese. I forced myself to eat them anyway, and I have to confess it wasn’t my cup of tea. Speaking of tea, they didn’t have tea, but they did have coffee which I thought was really quite good, although a number of other people seemed less than impressed. As my father would say, there’s no accounting for taste.

Alright so I had a big day ahead of me, a big city, a lot to see, and a decent idea of where I wanted to start. The tricky bit was I had to do something with my stuff, because I wasn’t spending this night in the hostel, but rather on the night bus to Selçuk. I had partially come prepared for this, because I had brought all of my things in a large travel backpack and a shoulder bag. I could lug my stuff around with me all day if I had to, but I honestly wasn’t very keen on the idea. Luckily my hostel had the answer. Since they deal with travellers in this situation they have a luggage room which I was allowed to leave my large travel backpack in, while I explored the city. I decided it would be safer for me to carry my laptop and passport on me in my shoulder bag (which was locked). In hindsight, I really just created more work for myself, but I felt better about it so that’s all that counts.

So I left the hostel, and headed to Sultenahamet square. It was close to 10:00 in the morning, and the square was buzzing with tourists and random Turkish Salesmen. I went to the nearest cash point, and pulled 350TL, which I felt confident, would be more than enough spending money for my time here.

Note: 350TL (Turkish lira) is somewhere in the ballpark of $200, which incidentally is the maximum my debit card can pull per day. As for the currency goes, there is a money symbol for the Turkish Lira which resembles a backwards J with two diagonal slashes going through the main stem bit. This symbol was devised in 2012 by the Turkish government, and because it is so new, it is not available on my laptop, and I imagine a good number of your laptops. It is still very common to see the lira represented as TL, and so if you were confused, you shouldn’t be now.

Anyway, so where to first? Sultenahamet Square poses an immediate dilemma to any first-time visitor to Istanbul. On one side of the square is the magnificent Sultan Ahmed Mosque, better known as the Blue Mosque, and on the other side of the square is the Hagia Sofia, known by the locals as the Aya Sofia.

Being a fan of the Byzantine Empire, there really wasn’t much of a choice. So I walked towards the Aya Sofia, following a smaller street that seemed to run along one side of it. It wasn’t long before I saw an entrance with a guard and a sign that said free entry. Free is my favourite price, and so I walked in. This however, was not the entrance to the Hagia Sofia. Instead this was a series of small domed buildings that were square on the outside and octagonal on the inside. Before I entered each building I was required to remove my shoes. This is not a religious requirement, but rather to help keep the floors clean.

I’ll never forget walking on the green felt carpet into a large domed room that smelt heavily of incense. Directly in front of me were at least thirty strange pentagonal sarcophagi of varying sizes, all of which were covered with the same green felt as the carpet. You couldn’t walk amongst the sarcophagi, because they were fenced off by a wooden fence that circled them. However one could walk around the perimeter of the room, allowing the best possible view of the real reason why tourists would be interested in this room, the ceiling. Wow…   double wow. The ceilings were covered with 16^th century Islamic patterns and designs. Yep, I was in Turkey alright. This was worth sleeping on a bench in the Zurich airport for.

I continued on examining each of the little cemeteries. For some reason, I felt the need to completely tie and untie my shoes before and after visiting each one. Looking back, I’m not really sure why. Either way, there were I think six buildings all together. The number of sarcophagi ranged from almost fifty to about five, but the real treat for me was seeing a new beautifully decorated ceiling every time. Wow, simply wow.

These buildings are in a courtyard that is directly adjacent to the Aya Sofia, but there is no way to get in from here, so I decided to exit the courtyard and continue along the side street I had begun on. There were several small tables set up, each filled with a wide assortment of very touristy, very overpriced, souvenirs. This is where I learned lesson 1 of proper procedure for the Turkish market place.

Looking is free, but don’t look too closely.

When you look too closely, you draw the attention of whoever is selling their merchandise. Now I want you to pause for a moment, and imagine the opening scene from Aladdin (if you haven’t seen it before, get out from under that rock you obviously live under and go watch it). So there’s the guy who’s got the stand full of, let’s be honest, useless junk. So he comes up to the person and begins to relentlessly offer the merchandise, moving from one item to the next. This is only slightly an exaggeration of the way Turkish salespeople act. The trick I eventually learned to combat this with was to feign interest in a particular item, listen to the price, and then say you’re going to think about it. I would usually repeat “I’ll think about it” a few times and tap on my hat with my right index finger to indicate the potential usage of the grey matter that resided beneath it.

I continued on from these stands until I found one that was selling fresh squeezed juice. Ever since Belize, I’ve been a sucker for fresh squeezed orange juice, so was it worth 5TL, probably not but we all have our weak moments.

This road eventually opened up to another square with a large gate, guarded by two men. When I say guarded, I mean they had assault rifles, which didn’t seem to be all that big of a deal because all sorts of people (all of which appeared to be tourists) were walking in and out of the gate without so much as batting an eye. I would later find out that this was the entrance to Topkapi Palace, but at the time I wasn’t very keen on walking past the very well armed guards, and so I continued left around the Hagia Sofia.

I ended up circling the whole building before arriving back in Sultanahamet square. Needless to say, I’m a bit thick. The entrance was in the Square all along. I examined this entrance noticing two queues. It took me a moment or two to work out what was going on, until I realized that there was one queue to buy tickets and another one to actually get in. Doing some mental math, I calculated that it would take about an hour to get inside. There was too much to see to wait in a queue for an hour, so I decided to go back later.

So I wandered towards the Blue Mosque. I was happy to find out that the Blue Mosque was free. I was less than happy to find out that I could only enter the Mosque at non praying times, which wouldn’t be for another few hours. So I’d go back later.

Darn it…   the two big attractions on the square were a bust. Feeling a bit dejected, I wandered around the Blue Mosque, until a man stopped me outside a Rug shop. He insisted on selling me a fine Turkish rug, and so I went in knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to afford anything in there. I suppose it’s a good business technique on their part, but they roll out rug after beautiful rug to make you really want one, and then they tell you the price. Ouch…   the lowest I could negotiate for a tiny little door mat was $100. I wasn’t paying $100 for a door mat. This annoyed the man, after having rolled out a large number of rugs for me, I could see why. However, in my defence  I never really asked him to do that so I didn’t feel all that bad. I would later learn that Turkish rug salesmen often prey on old couples (who often have a lot of money). Since I am neither old nor wealthy, I’m not sure why they chose me.

Anyway, I made it back to the Square, and decided it was about lunch time. There was a boy selling roast corn on the cob. I thought that was too funny to see in Turkey, and so I bought some. I think it was 1.5TL. It was the worst corn on the cob I’d ever had in my life, but it filled me up. Tourist food, not so good. Another lesson learned.

I found a map of attractions in the city, and amongst those shown was the Grand Bazaar, which was only a short walk from here, and the Egyptian Spice Bazaar, which was a short walk from there. I was going shopping.

The walk down the main street, was rather fun, there were shops everywhere, and people bustling about. It was nice because only about 50% of the people here were tourists. Not that I stuck around to chat with the locals. I was on a mission.

That mission was temporarily postponed when I got to a square with large stone pillar made of reddish stone and held together by metal braces. There were a large number of tourists here, all of whom seemed to be far more interested in the pigeons that clustered around the centre of the square. What they didn’t realize, was that this pillar once had a statue on it. This was old, very old. This once held a monument to Emperor Constantine (the reason the city was called Constantinople for a thousand years). If you haven’t picked up on this yet, I’m really a lot more interested in the Byzantine Empire than I am in the Ottoman Turks. What can I say, I’ve got Roman heritage. In a small way this is tracing roots for me.

Anyway, I left the pillar, and continued on until I found an entrance to the Grand Bazaar. This is an amazing, disorientating labyrinth of literally thousands of shops. It is incredibly easy to get lost, especially on your first visit. The shops more or less are divided very generally by genre. Unfortunately, I walked into the very high end area selling expensive jewellery  designer clothes, and expensive Turkish Leather jackets. I eventually wound up in a less pricey more knickknacky area. It is here that I learned rule 2.

Everything is negotiable. The following mock dialogue is a good example of this.

I like this [insert item here] how much?

40TL, but for you my friend, 35TL

Ehh…    I dunno.

30TL

I’ve only got 25TL on me.

…    Okay. 25TL

There are two things I should mention here.  First, the price was never 40TL, and it was likely not even 35TL. Most likely it was either 30TL or something close to that. Second, I had more than 25TL on me. There is absolutely no reason the salesmen should know that. This is a trick I learned from my best friend Cameron. In the Bazaar I found that it is helpful to carry your money in several pockets in several varying small amounts. If you keep track of your pockets well, you can know to pull from the right pocket making it appear as if that really is all you had on you. I suppose this also is beneficial as a pick pocket defence  because if you were unlucky enough to get pick pocketed, you wouldn’t have all your money in the same place.

Anyway, I must have spent two hours wandering about the Grand Bazaar, buying all sorts of wonderful souvenirs at prices I thought were very reasonable. When I eventually did wander out, I was in a different place than where I had entered. It took me a little bit to work out where I was in relation to where I was before I went into the Bazaar, and where that was in relation to the Spice Bazaar.

I was back at the Pillar in no time, and then it was off to the spice Bazaar. There is a long series of streets between the two, filled with an endless current of people. The first part was lined with things akin to fast food restaurants. They all smelled really good, which meant three things. One, they were probably unhealthy. Two, they were probably really tasty. And Three, I was getting hungry. However, I decided not to give in to my temptations. After a while the fast food places became less frequent, and were replaced by a large number of clothing stores. I have to say that there were a disproportionately large number of lingerie stores (approximately one in four). Anthropologically speaking, this made me wonder a bit about variations between Turkish culture and that of the States.

Anyway, after I thought I had walked too far, I finally made it into the Egyptian Spice Bazaar. Compared to the Grand Bazaar, this was tiny, but compared to other Bazaars that I would visit throughout the week, this was fairly good sized. Anyone who cooks should visit this Bazaar at least once in their life. The spice selection is absolutely amazing. I was in culinary heaven. The one thing that’s hard to remember is that this is a Bazaar, which means that each shop is different. However, most of them offered a lot of the same spices (with a few variations). So it’s really important to shop around, and be competitive.

One thing I noticed back in the Grand Bazaar, but seemed to be even more emphasized here was that people liked my hat, or at least they thought I looked stupid. Either way, they would call me out from their stands, saying, “Hey Robin Hood!” I’d always smile good-naturedly. Sometimes, if their shop looked interesting, I’d go over and chat with them for a bit. They’d try on my hat, and we’d all have a laugh.

By the time I was done, I had obtained a wonderful collection of souvenirs and spices between the two Bazaars. I felt rather good about myself, as I walked away from the shops towards the water. I was very close to Galata Bridge, and so for no reason in particular, I decided to walk across it. I have no idea why, but this bridge apparently has some historical significance dating back to the 19^th century. If you know me, you know that’s not nearly old enough to hold my interest. There were plenty of people, fishing off the bridge, which I thought was rather odd because boats were constantly moving underneath. As I was walking by I actually watched someone reel up a rather sizeable fish, so the fishing must have been good.

Anyway, when I got to the other side of the bridge I bought a churro-like thing for 1TL, and then hopped on the tram back to Sultanahamet. As I got off the tram, it was just beginning to drizzle. This was good news, because that meant that the queue to get into the Aya Sofia would be small. Sure as salt they were.

It took about five minutes to get a ticket into the Aya Sofia. They do not offer a student discount, and it costs 25TL. There was no queue at all to get into the complex itself. And I have to say wow. Wow…   yeah. I wandered about area soaking in the beautiful architecture. Back in ancient times, the place was lined with gold and jewels set perfectly to refract the incoming sunlight. Apparently this was some sight to behold. However, the jewels are gone, and almost all the gold as well. I’ve been told that it still is simply breath-taking to see bathed in sunlight. Unfortunately it was exceptionally overcast, and so it was an unfortunately dark place. Even still I wandered beneath stunning pillars an vaulted ceilings.

Eventually I came across the wishing pillar. It is a regular looking stone pillar that seems to have a bit of the stone broken away on one side. On the inside is a small hole lined with something gold in color (probably brass). You are supposed to place your thumb into the hole, and then attempt to turn your hand a full 360º without pulling out of the hole. I know I didn’t do it quite right, not that really mattered. It’s just one of those things you do, like kissing the blarney stone.

Anyway, from here I found the stairway that lead to the upper level. I particularly loved this bit, because of the rugged stone work that lined this 1,500 year old tunnel. I didn’t really have anyone to share this moment of awesomeness with anyone, and so I found myself walking in casual ovals up the winding ramp-way tunnel, occasionally laughing at the sheer wonder of actually being there.

The ground floor is nice, but the best bit is on the upper level. Here the remnants of the famous 11^th century frescos can still be seen. They were impressive to look at, but like much of the building it made me long to see it as it had back in its height. This dank and dingy building simply paled in comparison to the lucent shimmer the place once had.

When I left the upper level, I went to leave, but it was raining rather hard. So I only made it as far as the café a few hundred yards from the door. As I waited for the rain to stop, I had a nice cup of tea. I think I’ve spent too much time in the UK, because I believe I’m becoming addicted.

After the rain had stopped, I decided to walk over to the Blue Mosque. Upon arrival, I realized that since I had left, they had opened the mosque up to visitors, and then closed it again for prayer. It would be open one more time today in about a half an hour, so all I had to do was wait. Luckily the man at the door, gave me a suggestion that would occupy my time.

Near the entrance, there was an Islamic information centere, which ran free talks on what Islam is all about. I always like to learn, so I gleefully went there. I followed two girls up the stairs, and took my seat in the middle of the crowed. Unfortunately, the presentation had already begun so I missed the beginning. However, either way I was able to get a pretty good feel for what Islam was all about, and I have to say it’s not that bad of a religion when you discount the extremists. It’s nice to see it in a different light, and the archaeoastronomer in me rather loved their lunar calendar and their daily prayer based on positions of the sun.

When the presentation was over I stayed behind with a few others asking loads of questions. I was honestly just being curious. However, I remember constantly reminding myself to carefully choose my words. I know I have a tendency to be rather abrasive on the subject of religion. Since these were nice people who had offered me tea and biscuits, I decided a debate was not the right way to return that hospitality.

Eventually there was just the man and the woman who had given the presentation, the two girls I had walked in behind, and myself. The girls had a map of the Old City section of Istanbul, and were asking general questions about places to go and things to see. I eventually jumped into the conversation, getting some good travel advice and another copy of that same map.

Jade was British from central England, and Andréa was from somewhere in California. They were currently studying in Madrid, and they were just taking a wee holiday to Turkey to see a friend of theirs who was from the city. They were also supposed to be travelling with their friend Sam, who due to communication issues they were unable to get a hold of. They hadn’t seen the Blue Mosque yet, and I was eager to have someone other than myself to talk to, and so I decided to tag along with them.

Up sides to travelling on your own, it’s much faster and you don’t have to worry about what anyone else wants. Down sides, you talk to yourself a lot. Sometimes, I even annoy myself, so there you have it. I need a sounding board sometimes.

Anyway, we found the entrance, and took off our shoes before wandering inside. I was in a few moments before them, and wow. This is most likely the most beautifully decorated building I’ve ever been in. Just like the small cemetery mosques I was in earlier it was a large domed room covered with stunningly intricate patterns and designs. We were all geeking out about it a little.

If this whole archaeoastronomy thing bottoms out, I think I should look into photography. As my own way of repaying them for some companionship, I took several photos of them from some really clever angles that captured both of them and most of the ceiling as well.

After a while, we just sat on the floor and chatted. It was nice because I more or less had something in common with both of them, being as I was a US citizen living in the UK. American accent, British words. An American hat with a Scottish feather. I guess that’s me now. I suppose I can live with that.

Eventually we decided to leave, to find some form of internet café, so that they could get a hold of Sam through Facebook  So we wandered for a bit trying to find an inexpensive place that served tea and had free WiFi. We eventually found a fast food looking place that had an upper level café. The man on the street level bit assured us that there was WiFi in the café.

So we went up there because the prices looked good. When we got there, we found that we were mislead about the WiFi, but food was still reasonably priced. Since Jade and I were rather hungry we decided to stick around and get a bite to eat before continuing on to find a WiFi café.

The food was pretty mediocre, but it was fast food so my expectations weren’t all that high to begin with. After we were finished, we continued on until we found a place that would make international calls. Here we had no luck, so we continued on until we finally found a proper internet café. We settled down with some tea, and they soon got a hold of Sam on their smart phones. He was close enough, to the café we were at and so he told us to wait there for him.

In a few minutes he joined us, and they bought him a cup of tea. The four of us recounted our days, and had a few laughs. Unfortunately, it was approaching half seven and so I had to head out. I was supposed to be at the travel agency to get on the night bus by 8, and I still had to pick up my other bag back at the hostel. So we said our goodbyes, and exchanged some contact information even though I was fairly certain I wouldn’t see them again.

The walk to my hostel, and then to the travel agency was really quite short. There were several people waiting in the lounge area of the travel agency when I got there, and so I listened to a wonderful conversation that I couldn’t understand. After about 30 minutes, the bus arrived. I bid them farewell, grabbed my stuff, and then I was off on my next adventure…