Still Not Really There: Istanbul I

After getting off the shuttle bus, I find the hostel Paul told me about walking the short distance from Sultanahmet tram stop feeling somnambulant. I store my luggage and go outside to get some orientation until I can check in. It's quite hot again, but I prefer the steep streets down to find the sea instead of visiting the famous mosques. The sea is one of the... well, "things" - though it's hardly a thing - I often don't realize missing until I'm back there. It's not a beautiful beach, but a narrow strip of grass and trees between the road and the rocky shore, some people's public living room. Cargo ships on the blue sea under a blue sky. Very different from the Northern German seas, but still home in this vast city that feels so different from the Balkans to me.

The hostel is huge, too, I don't really like it, so I stay only for two nights. The location, however, is quite convenient. I walk around Sultanahmet and down to the Golden Horn, following a half-Turkish friend's advice to get a fish sandwich from one of the small boats swaying behind Galata Bridge.

After getting half way accustomed to this huge city I meet my train-and-bus-buddies again for an excursion to the Princes' Islands. These islands within eyesight of the city used to be the princes' resort, now most of them are tourist destinations, one holds some military facilities. After an enjoyable hour or so on the boat we get off to explore one of the bigger islands. walking up a narrow street rising higher and higher above the sea with the skyline of the city not so far away gives a nice contrast which is intensified by the horse-drawn buggies speeding past us from time to time here.

We walk up the narrow road along the coast and consider circling the whole island, but it is quite hot and it doesn't look like there would be much more to see further up the road, so we turn inland to find a outdoor bistro obviously waiting for the evening. As soon as we sit down the Turkish pop music is changed to a disc of Anglo-American pop of the 90s... We manage to make some sense of the menu by google image search (of course there is wifi) and enjoy some spicy omelette and sweet tea. When we start to hear the songs for the second time we decide it's time to leave. After another walk, this time downhill, trying not to be run over by the speeding buggies, we return to the small town. It's been quite exhausting after all so we only take a brief walk around the old streets with their wooden two-story houses with carved decorations and spend an hour at the port eating ice-cream and waiting for the ferry back to the city.