Glimpses of Istanbul (Istanbul III)

Thursday is the day of free admission to the modern art museum Istanbul Modern - not for non-residents, though. I decide to buy a ticket and although I don't know all that much about modern art I enjoy the different exhibitions of modern Turkish artists. When I have to leave I spend some more time in the yard, a stone garden looking out to the Bosporus and decorated with some entries to a recent architecture competition. One of them transports the movements of the water underneath to metal circles looking like slender giant mushrooms. The sun sets gleaming on the by passing ships and the opposite shore.

Politics are not as obviously heated as in late May when Taksim and Gezi Park dominated breakfast conversations in the partly Turkish team of the psychiatric clinic in Berlin I did my internship at. But even without previous experience and with very little knowledge of this city I recognize some signs of public activism. One day I happen to run across one of the long stairs leading up from the Bosporus painted in rainbow colors. On the next day I start to question my sense of orientation when I cannot find it. Later I learn that it had been painted illegally by citizens not willing to wait any longer for the city council to do something about street repair. There is a heated discussion about the boundaries of personal freedom and public property and at some point the stairs were painted grey again. There is a lot of police in the side streets of Istiklal, the avenue leading to Taksim Square, and the square itself...

I spent one day taking the ferry (not a tourist boat, but a regular part of public transportation as I know it from Hamburg) up the Golden Horn and visiting some sights along it, first the complex of Eyüp Sultan Mosque where I see many dressed up little boys in white glittery uniforms accompanied by there families to celebrate their upcoming circumcision. The huge cemetery extending up the hill towards the Pierre Lotfi café is a very popular destination for families, as well. The view of both the graves and over the Horn is quite spectacular - and I spend at least half an hour in the queue for the cable car back down to the ferry.

At a stop on the other side of the water I try to follow another of my German-Turkish friend's recommendations. Getting to Santralistanbul, however, proves to be difficult without speaking Turkish, but I make it! This industrial complex next to Bilgi University used to be the first urban power plant of the Ottoman Empire and supplied the city with energy from 1911 through 1983. Now it holds both the Energy Museum and halls for art exhibitions. Right now there is no exhibition and university hasn't started yet either, so the place is quite deserted expect for a few students out on the lawns and a receptionist and two security guys at the museum, none of whom speaks a word of English. So I walk the halls all on my own and get carried away with taking photos of the gigantic steel instruments. It does feel a bit creepy. But definitely worth a trip:

Getting back to Taksim gives me some tension, too, as darkness falls quickly and I once again have to find the right bus in spite of the language barrier and the absence of any signs. It's always an exhilarating mix of triumph (of having made it) and gratitude (of never having to make it quite on my own) and finally relaxation of returning to a more familiar area which in contrast feels ever so much like home.

One afternoon I also take a ferry to see some more of the Bosporus, of course. I always love being on a ship and even without knowing much about what exactly I see on the shores it is a great and relaxing way to spend two hours. Probably more relaxing in my state of information overload than opting for the audio guide...

After some discussions my train buddies and I also find a day to visit Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque together (didn't manage to see Topkapi though, well, I guess I'll be back ;)). Both monuments are quite crowded, but surprisingly I don't feel like it disturbs the atmosphere for me. Both the buildings and the decorations and mosaics are huge and impressive and in some way perfect, but once more I find I have too much imagination, they don't seem new to me although I've never even seen that many pictures... Still, a must see, no doubt about that. 

After having walked around a lot, taken pictures (and - typically German - marvelled at people unable to adhere to signs not to flash) I sit outside on the stairs in silence, waiting for the others taking a look around the yard which I saw before entering. The unlikely rain we only saw from the inside has stopped and the warm stone is dry again. A slender cat sneaks up to me, I play with her for a while in spite of her questionable cleanliness. Perfect peace and quiet in the very middle of Istanbul.

Across The Horn: Istanbul II

It's been a long time since my last post, it wasn't meant to take this long, but time is flying and med school takes its toll. Anyway, while days are getting considerably longer and less cold in Northern Germany and more serious exams are drawing closer I still choose to take some moments off to think back of my big trip last summer and finally share the posts of the second half. More to come!


After the trip to the islands I finally stop to constantly feel bemused by being in a big city, some paths have become familiar, and I am back to being used to hear Turkish all the time. But most importantly I moved to a cozy hostel on the other side of the Golden Horn, right below Galata Tower. It was recommended to me by a friend of a friend who lives here and cannot host me himself as his cousin is visiting. Rapunzel definitely is a great place to stay, too, nearly like a tower itself with only two rooms to each floor and a roof top terrace with a view of the Golden Horn and the most convenient location in Istanbul with both Sultanahmet and Taksim within (my) walking distance. 

Galata seen from the Galata Bridge

Breakfast at Rapunzel (yes, Mom, I'm posting food pictures ;))

Beyond the plate...

...and behind the table

Galata Tower at night

But the most important part of it that really makes me connect to Istanbul are the people I meet here, though most of them are also just passing through, of course. As I seem to need longer hours of resting than in the beginning of the trip I enjoy to just spend unplanned hours of extended breakfast on the roof top terrace or at any time of night or day in the small common room next to the reception chatting with a German engineer, an American neuropsychiatrist, a European art historian and most importantly the Serbian receptionists who also enable me to reconnect to the Balkans and add some more pieces to the mosaic of my understanding of that part of Europe - and Europe in general - as well as both personal and professional perspectives on being a refugee, migration and shaping history by teaching history. As a German with an emphasis of migrant issues in health care and education, how cool is it to meet a Serbian studying the Turkish minority in Germany at an Istanbul university and being able to exchange and connect perspectives on this complex matter!?

The friend's friend and his cousin also offer to take me to a party and after some searching and some phone calls we end up in a most mixed international party where I meet Nesime. We are instantly in a good conversation and two days later she takes me along the Bosporus (we both like walking long distances and talking about life, the universe, and everything) and later invites me for dinner to her home to meet her delightful family.
While I still feel I really only saw a glimpse of Istanbul I know I have people to come back to in this huge city.

Bridge of bridges at dusk...

...and close up in the dark (it's never dark in Istanbul)

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. 

Getting To Far Away Istanbul: Transport And Sofia

I leave Srebrenica after four days, feeling recovered and up for a very new country. Once more I enjoy the bus ride along the Drina, through the sunflower, corn and melon fields, and across the Sava in Belgrade. When I buy the ticket for the night train to Sofia I am delighted to find the charming old man at the counter for international tickets to be fluent in both English and German (sounding very Austrian - I later hear he speaks French, too!). He also reassures me about security issues: 'This train is about as safe as a night train from, say, Berlin to Munich. Maybe a bit less.' I spend some hours at the internet café, get some food for the rest of the day and the next morning and return to the station well in time. The train is already there so I get in and find my compartment where I'm soon joined by a young German couple and a Scottish pharmacist. This by chance grouping turns out to work really well, we continue to Istanbul together and meet there several times, too. 

While the beds are nice enough, border control before five in the morning prevents us from feeling really awake when we reach Sofia at eight. On the sober and empty platform of Sofia's otherwise gigantic socialist main station a smoking guy in worn-out flip-flops tries to persuade us to directly book a bus ticket to Istanbul with his company. Not too keen on this marketing strategy we try to ignore him for a while, but maybe this is the way it works here, the price turns out to be reasonable and we can leave our luggage at the station. So we set off to find the starting point of the free walking tour, one of my travel buddies heard about. We walk down the main street with a quite impressive mix of architecture. When we finally reach the Palace of Justice, we still have time till the start of the tour, so we have breakfast, sharing our bread with a Gypsy lady.  

The tour takes about two hours and the guide, a law student is really good. It is a suitable way to learn some basic facts and see the key sights in a city where you spend only a minimum amount of time. It gives me the feeling of actually having been in Bulgaria. We get an idea both of the old history and the socialist time and of the issues of modern Bulgaria. Walking through many green parks in combination with eating a lot of really good ice cream (fig! plum!) I even manage to stay more or less awake.

Start of the tour at the Palace of Justice. Note one of the ubiquitous lions - this one however proves the sculptor's lack of biological knowledge...

A capital in layers: Very old small church, Stalin era style government building (which used to be crowned by a huge red star)

Quite impressive lady - there was a Lenin statue at this place till 1990

Last functioning mosque in the city - built of brick! - in the background on the left a synagogue

The church bell of the church of the Holy Spirit 

Alexander Nevsky Cathedral

After the tour we sit in one of the parks for a while and then walk around for quite a long time until we find a café where we just sit for most of the day, have a drink and watch the rain come and go. Finally we get up to buy some food, walk back to the bus station and take about an hour to rearrange our backpack households, sitting between the tiny bungalows holding bus company offices. At 8 we get on the Turkish bus. It's packed and unfortunately some of the elderly passengers are quite noisy, listening to music from earphones not on their ears or snoring. We cross the border two hours after midnight, this time we need to get off the bus and even put our luggage through the x-ray. We are not all that awake when we reach the absolutely gigantic Istanbul central bus station. Luckily there is a really nice waiting area where some people just continue snoring, we have some breakfast and watch the dawn growing lighter until we catch the shuttle downtown.

First morning in Istanbul, International bus station

More Paths Walked Till The End - If Only Caspar David Friedrich Had Known!

After the having spent an afternoon at the springs I want to find out where some other roads and paths out of the city lead. First I walk straight South. This is where I find the small Catholic chapel opposite the path leading to the town walls open this time. I pay it a short visit and try to figure out (not really successfully) the Serbian explanations about the stones in its yard. Then I just walk on, past short front gardens overflowing with pink and lilac flowers, it's getting hotter after a quite chilly morning, there aren't many people in the street that eventually starts to twist and turn, looking different after every corner. I walk past a small hotel, some guests waiting for their lunch at its restaurant, and some construction workers renewing part of the asphalt under some apple trees. Then buildings get scarce as I approach the edge of the town. There is a weather station and a sharp twist of the road leading out of the town there is a big dog living under an abandoned trailer with her puppies. I leave the main road as it doesn't look too approapriate for walking from here on and find myself in a quite idyllic sandy street with big houses generously placed between green hills, some of the gardens are entered by means of small bridges. A dog starts to bark fiercely, I'm glad to see he is on a chain. The street gradually turns into a forest path with a steep hill covered in shrubs rising to the side opposite of the houses. Sunlight and heat linger on the dried grass, it smells of warm needle trees. I see an old woman with a colorful headscarf and a kind wrinkly face. She leads her goat to grase on the steep hill, smokes and smiles. And looks at me curiously. There are probably not all that many tourists right here and I look very touristy I guess. I am happy to find my Serbian sufficient by now to have a small chat with her, tell her I am from Germany, not the Netherlands and thank her for her compliments. She asks me if I am married, as I tell her I am not she wishes me luck to find a husband and have a child. In Germany I might have felt offended by someone just taking it as a given that everyone wishes to have a family, but here I take it as a genuine good wish that puts a smile on my  face, even more so as I understood it in a language I didn't actually ever learn.

When I ask Miloš if it is possible to get close to the old city walls I realize that I actually stopped half way to the top last time because it was getting dark and I thought the road was leading somewhere else. So I go back there and continue up the side of the valley, dark green all around, some bushes heavy with big black elderberries, occasional apple trees on the up hill side of the road, quite some apples fallen on the road. The valley is filled with the sound of the Guber, invisible beneath all the trees and bushes and I catch a glimpse on the construction site of the new spa building. After a while I find another set of houses, I am not out of town here. They are surrounded by huge gardens and situated between two hills, one crowned by the old walls, the other holding a Muslim graveyard, white stones gleaming in the sun. There is a big steel cross on the edge of the wall and I sit next to it for a long while enjoying the view and the wind and the blazing sun. A good place for writing and feeling free. After a while the sky gets more overcast and I hear a rumbling sound in the distance. This is not the place to be in a thunderstorm so I hurry down and reach the hostel already drenched by the heavy four o'clock rain.

 



 

 

 

As quickly as it came the rain is over again and before darkness falls I hurry off again to visit the other Peak, the one with the graveyard. The quickly changing evening light and the damp air after the heavy rain make me take a lot of pictures - and some views of multiple layers of mountains and clouds actually remind me a lot of Caspar David Friedrich's paintings, especially when there are gravestones in the Picture, too! If you don't know this German painter who was actually born in the town where I study take a look here. Maybe he wouldn't have limited his trips to Germany, Danmark and Czechia if he had known about this place...