Istanbul Part 1

 

My time in Turkiye began with the kindness of one man and ended with the kindness of another.  The country is now burned onto my memory when it was only meant to be my gateway to Southeast Asia.

Freaking Turkiye, man.

In planning my next move after Bulgaria, I was a bit troubled.  I want to hit Thailand, Singapore and Cambodia then, hopefully, I’ll also dip down to Australia (Melbourne) and New Zealand.  Here’s the problem:  Singapore requires a return plane ticket and the last two countries just entered winter (the seasons are reversed in that part of the world).  The whole trip requires a bit more time and planning.  Since most of the flights I found would end up routing me through Istanbul anyway, I figured, screw it.  Just go to Istanbul for a week, check it out, then dip down from that huge international airport.

As I had already bused across Bulgaria from Sofia to Sunny Beach and, since Turkiye is right over the border, I thought to save a trip to the airport and just bus it again.  Sigh.  I feel that was a mistake.

The bus ride took forever.  That was a long eight hours and a big two-hour chunk of that was spent on the nightmare of Turkish border control.  I admit it.  I got too complacent.  Every country I’ve been to so far didn’t require a visa, so I stopped checking.  And thinking that I was just crossing from Bulgaria into Turkiye, I assumed that the rules would be the same. 

AMERICANS NEED A VISA TO VISIT TURKIYE.  If anyone from the U.S.A. wants to visit the country, please do your research beforehand. You need to apply for an e-visa online to save yourself the panic I experienced at that crowded patrol office.  Though this wasn’t explained to me at the time, I probably could have applied for a visa on my phone if I weren’t so taken aback and unfamiliar with the process.

Without a visa, I was scrambling from person to person trying to resolve the manner.  It didn’t help that most barely spoke English and could not care less about my plight.  The nearby convenience store did not have an ATM and the office did not accept cards.  And, of course I didn’t have any Turkish Lira as I hadn’t even entered the country yet.  All I had were a few Bulgarian Lev, maybe $10 American, and a few euros.  Not enough to equal the 637 Turkish Lira required for the visa (equivalent of $30 US).

Just as I figured I was about to be stranded on the Bulgarian side of border patrol with nowhere to go and no way to get there, the driver paid for my visa from his own pocket.  I couldn’t thank him enough (or at all, he spoke Bulgarian and Turkish only), but he took my ATM card as collateral so that I’d pay him back.  And after every passenger had to show our passports not once, not twice, but three times, we then had to get all out luggage off the bus to be scanned.  This was worse than going to the airport.  At least the staff there were better organized.  More proof of this was the mile-long line of cars we passed that were trying to get out of Turkiye and into Bulgaria.

When we were finally cleared to leave, I worried for the rest of the bus ride.  I know worry is useless, but I was already on edge from my lack of planning for the visa and my brain tends to dwell on the nightmare scenarios.  What if he loses my card?  What if he left it at the patrol desk?  What if he forgets about it and leaves the country with it?  What if my card doesn’t work at the ATM? And, yes, I had alerted my bank that I was going to Turkiye.  But there’s always that little fear in the back of my mind that the card won’t work when I first put it into a foreign ATM, or it will get eaten or something.  Then what do I do?

We finally reached the bus station in Istanbul, and I flagged the man down.  He led me to an ATM where (yay!) the card worked, and I gave him 800 liras.  The man actually reached for his wallet to give me change.  Are you serious, dude?   You just saved my bacon.  I don’t want your change.  I waved him off and said thank you again.  He shook my hand and walked off while I went in search of a cab.

I had no preconceived notions about Turkiye, didn’t know much about it at all.  I didn’t realize that Istanbul straddles two continents and has multiple cultural districts.  Since the cab driver didn’t speak much English, we used the translation app on his phone to communicate.  The bus station was in the European section and he explained to me that we had to cross the water to get to the Asian section.  I had no idea what any of that meant so I just nodded and went along with it.

Prior to this travel journey, I’d rarely used taxis.  Atlanta is a big car town, so I just didn’t need to use taxis very often.  I realize that taxi drivers know the roadways inside and out, they know the best routes, and how to get around in traffic.  There is a great deal of trust you have to put in them to get you where you’re going safely.  That having been said, every taxi driver I’ve encountered is out of his or her freaking mind! Istanbul is no exception.  The cabbies there drive at warp speed even in the mild drizzle going on in the city when I arrived.  They love to speed up on a car then honk to get that car out of their way.  You know those lines they paint on the streets?  Yeah, those are just suggestions in Istanbul.  People just drive in the middle of those lines, drive diagonally, slip by other cars so closely you’d expect to see sparks flying.  It is just … wow.  I’ve learned to close my eyes and just pray to whatever deity may be listening for a safe journey.  It’s worked out well so far.

Somehow, we made it to the place.  Parking in the city is non-existent, so the man had to jam his way into a one-way street to let me out.  The apartment was a pleasant surprise.  Very clean with a full kitchen and a washer.  I think this is the first time I’ve seen a full-size fridge in Europe.  The thing is taller than I am.  That’s unusual but cool.

The host had left out two pairs of slippers along with the towels as it is customary to take your shoes off when entering the home.  I’d gotten into that habit in Bulgaria, so that wasn’t an issue.  Finding outlets was an issue (again) as the only place to set up my computer was the dining room table.  The only available outlet meant that the cord was draped in front of the bedroom door.  I had to constantly remind myself not to trip over it.

Exploring the city the next day, I quickly stumbled upon the rail station.  I noted it but kept walking.  I also discovered my new favorite food in the country. This is a Turkish bagel called a simit.

It is cheap, plentiful, and delicious.  I bought one every day I was in Turkiye and highly recommend them to anyone going there.  Just go up to a cart and say ‘Bir simit lutfen’ (one bagel please).  Tesekkurler (thanks).  There are accents on some of these Turkish words, but there’s no way I can do them with an American keyboard.

Seeing the variety of people in this country was very interesting.  There were many women wearing headscarves, if not full burkas.  I saw one woman whose entire skin, even her hands, were covered and all you could see were her eyes.  Then, not a few feet away, a woman walked by with a bare midriff and purple hair.  It was very strange.  Seeing the contrast did make me feel very comfortable with the long pants and t-shirts I was wearing.  No one paid any attention to anyone’s dress or skin color.  Everyone was too busy just trying to maneuver around the pedestrians, cars and motorcycles to even notice anyone else existed.

Turkiye ups the ante from Bulgaria and Greece in the number of stray cats on the streets.  There are also stray dogs there.  Big ones.  It was initially a little unnerving to see these 100-pound dogs just lying in the middle of the sidewalk. But they act just like the cats.  They are well fed and don’t even pay much attention to pedestrians.  They aren’t aggressive or loud, they just hang out and everyone expects them to just be around. 

My neighborhood is called Kadikoy, a very busy place near the harbor.  Plenty of restaurants, shops, and grocery stores in every direction.  Something I noted both here and in Bulgaria is there are a lot of places that sell ornate evening gowns and wedding attire.  There were several multi-level stores featuring the most gorgeous designs. 

As I am a fan of green spaces, I was thrilled to find this park a block away from my apartment.  

What was even better was its proximity to yet another park near the harbor. 

Istanbul, while beautiful and interesting, is exhausting.  Not like Rome where my legs were dead by the last day.  And not like Dublin when my feet were killing me from all the walking.  No, this is too much cigarette smoke, too many people, cars, honking horns (so many honking horns!), motorcycles, cats, dogs, uneven pavement – it’s just a bit much.  Add to that the serious language barrier and the place is mentally and emotionally draining.  Very few people speak English and I truly felt like an alien in the city.  I returned to the apartment every day with a mild headache.