Freaking Turkiye ... Again?

 

Okay.  This move hurt. 

My last day in Funchal was a strange one.  The wind kicked up something fierce and the sky was as pictured above.  Does that ring around the sun mean something?  Like to sailors or astrologers?  I don’t know, but it cast a strange light over the entire day.

I also woke up with a sore throat.  For those keeping score, this is the third time on this journey that I’ve gotten sick.  I rarely got sick before traveling.  I don’t know if this is just the changes in climate or my advancing age or what, but it is highly annoying.  And I’d be getting on a plane soon.  Yay.

I got a cab late in the day because, just like last time, my flight out of Madeira was at an ungodly hour of the morning.  Arriving at the airport at 11 meant I’d have lots of wandering time before my 5 am flight.  Then it was on to Lisbon for another wait.

But there was a problem.  The very same bag I had no problem getting on the flight in Madeira, was now suddenly too heavy for Turkish Airlines.  I went to check the bag and the woman told me I hadn’t paid for it beforehand (I’m pretty sure I did – I’ve booked quite a few flights in the last year).  Then she sent me over to the ticketing desk to pay.  Where now?  I asked two people the location of this desk and neither of them knew … in the airport they work in every day.  Already tired since I hadn’t slept the night before, dragging all my stuff around Lisbon airport looking for the ticketing desk just made me even more upset about this entire trip.  It’s not like I wanted to leave the country, why are you making it even more difficult?

I eventually did find the desk.  After some more waiting, I got saddled with the bill for my bag.  You know?  The one I’ve been carrying around for months?  Suddenly it was overweight to the tune of $318.  Are you sh$$ing me!?  I just stared at the woman.  That cost was almost as much as my ticket!   

I don’t want to do this anymore.  The planes, the airports, the waiting, the expense … I’ve had enough.

Sigh.  Gotta plane to catch.  Nothing for it now.

At least I got a good seat on the plane, right?  That’s … something.

The ticketing agent upgraded me to an exit row which meant legroom for days.  They wouldn’t let me keep my small bag under the seat, so I had even more room for the 5-hour flight.

There were multiple reasons I chose to return to Istanbul.  One: obviously, I love the city.  Two:  Türkiye is not in Schengen.  Three:  I figured the transition from Portugal would be easier if I were going to another place I loved.  And four:  I’m still considering a continuation of my trek east that I began over the summer.  It will soon be summertime in Australia and New Zealand, which may be a little too hot, but it still beats the alternative (the thought of such a long plane ride, though? Eeesh).

As for that alternative … I knew it would be an adjustment coming back to mainland Europe from a tropical island but damn, is it cold in Istanbul!  It was 70 degrees the night I spent in Madeira Airport.  Night one in Istanbul?  55 degrees.  Yikes.

The last area I stayed in Istanbul was the lovely Balat neighborhood.  This area of Beyoglu near Taksim Square is more like a … um … bombed out warzone?  I was already well familiar with the bumpy, uneven streets and the beaten-up sidewalks in this city, but this area has got to be the worst of the places I’ve stayed.  It’s weird, though.  Not far from my apartment are the higher end hotels, Hilton, Grand Hyatt, Ritz Carlton.

Weirder still is the fact that, once again, you can’t judge a book by the cover.  The street may be a crowded, uphill, narrow nightmare where you’re dodging traffic every few feet, but the apartment is lovely.  No central heating (yes, I’m a spoiled American), but still a nice place. 

The bedroom is huge for Europe with a very comfy bed.  The balcony would be a great place to hang out if not for the cold.  Not much of a view, but spacious.

And right across the street is a building with only one inhabited floor while the rest of it looks burnt out.  Go figure.

Going out the first day, I was greeted at the front door by a cat rubbing against my legs.  Yep.  Definitely back in Istanbul.  I admit to kinda missing the cats in Portugal. 

The apartment is not far from Dolmabahce palace, Galata Tower, and Istiklal Street.  This is a famous street in the city and the main drag featuring a ton of stores and restaurants.  It’s also about 95% pedestrian.  The remaining 5% means you’re dodging police cars, motorcycles, the through traffic from a couple of cross streets, and the famous trolley car.  The tracks run right down the middle of the street.

I really don’t understand why there aren’t dead bodies lining the streets.  The chaos is real, people.

And it extends to more than the traffic.  I was in a restaurant listening to Turkish rap music – yes, that is a thing Heijan & Muti - AYNEN (Official Video) #HERMANO - YouTube – and wondering again about the influence of American culture in other countries.  Granted, this music is just as incomprehensible to my old ears as modern American rap, but it was still strange to hear.

Additionally, all along Istiklal Street are signs touting Black Friday sales.  Not Kara Cuma (the Turkish term) but Black Friday.  I stood there tilting my head at seeing these words on signs and the lines of text in English encouraging people to enter.  It also never occurred to me that foreigners might specifically come to Türkiye during this time of year to do some bargain shopping for Christmas.  I wasn’t even sure the country celebrated Christmas, but seeing the decorated trees in the airport led me to believe that it does.

I really don’t see any other appeal to Istanbul this time of year.  The city is just too freaking cold!  My first day back, there was some sun and the temperature reached the low 60’s.  By the end of the week, the temperature actually dropped to record lows.  The sky was overcast most of the time with the occasional bout of rain.  First it was too hot in the summer and now it’s too cold in the winter.  The city does get the four seasons – which I’m kinda over as a life experience.  There’s a reason I want live on a tropical island.  I don’t do cold weather.  These temperatures just make me want to hibernate.

I had considered hanging out in Türkiye for three months and then just going back to Portugal.  I made sure to get my e-visa before my flight, so no problems there.  But I’m not feeling the whole move-around-the-city process that I did while in Lisbon.  Again, the impulse to hibernate is too strong here.

I love you, Istanbul, just not right now. I miss Madeira too much.

One last note.  While I celebrated a non-traditional Thanksgiving in a foreign country, one of my earlier stops this year devolved into chaos.  I still don’t know all the details about the knife attacks in Dublin, but I am shocked that something like that happened.  And the resulting rioting is just … wow.  Dublin is a beautiful city full of a lot of nice people.  I really hate to see them take a page out of America’s book with this violent reactionism.  I wish them the best.