Day 79 - Istanbul or Constantinople

Travel issues under control-ish, today we devoted almost entirely to being tourists. As stated, Aussie Girl and we share many common interests, including what we would like to visit in in Istanbul. We met up in the morning, and were soon joined by her pal, Aussie Boy, whom she met on the plane and was staying at a different hostel.

Our first stop was unplanned. We were walking towards Haggia Sophia when a bride crossed out path. Then another. And another. And another. A busfull (literally) of brides descended and made a slow circuit of the courtyard, having their photos taken by tourists and wedding guests alike. They were also applauded and cheered by wedding guests and tourists alike, which is as it should be, under the circumstances.

Yesterday, I saw a man with a silver pot on his back in the courtyard. I had no change to buy a glass of whatever was in the pot, so I felt that I couldn't take a picture. He was there again today, and was well aware of his photographic appeal, calling out "Photo, Photo" rather than "Juice, Juice". Even so, he proved a jovial old man, laughing frequently and showing more gums than yellowed theeth. Our photo is well worht the price of a cup of slightly warm cherry juice.

We finally managed to take ourselves into Haggia Sophia. It was first destroyed in 537, and quickly rebuilt. The original building date wasn't given, but if it was first destroyed in the 6th century, one would assume it is circa really old. It is a stunning piece of architecture - domes and arches covered in mosaic, paint and carving looping up and up almost out of the eyes' reach. The carving on the capitals and screens is so delicate, the stone almost looks like lace. The tiles for the mosaics, gold, and silver, and coloured stone are tiny - thumbnail sized - and every single one, even for the solid background colour fields is carefully placed in arches and turms like the whorls of sunflower seeds.

More breathtaking that the shape of the place is its history. Haggia Sophia was originally built as a Catholic church. Over the centuries it has flipped back forth between Mosque and Cathedral. The presence of time and change fills the space between floor and dome, granting even the air molecules a weight of their own.

It is possible to climb the ramps up to the level of the first gallery. The gallery is quite high, but still the central dome soars well above it. The main treat on the gallery level are the views out over the city. Small windows - would they still be clerestory? - look out in every direction to visitas of rooftops, sea, and the Blue Mosque. The windows are set high in the wall, and Aussie Girl and I had to really stretch to see, but it was well worth it.

From Haggia Sophia, we crossed over to the Blue Mosque. Unfortunately we had all forgotten about the strict dress code, and therefore could not enter. We arrived near the call to prayer (so even if we had been appropriately dressed we could not have gone in). Every mosque, including the Blue is equipped with loud speakers to send the prayers out over the city. The time for each is slightly staggered from the other, so it almost sounds like an echo of song traveling from one end of Istanbul to the other. To my ears it is very foreign - this is one of the first moments on the trip that I have truely felt myself in a foreign land. The rest Europe was different than home, but different is different from foreign.

Thwarted in our attempt to visit the mosque, we (Aussie Girl Aussie Boy, Cz and I) hopped on a tram to see if we could catch the commuter ferry along the Bosphorus. No dice, but we were near the Galata Bridge and Galata Tower (both quite famous), so we decided to have a little stroll over the bridge and up to the tower. The bridge practically bristles with fishing poles and fishermen. On either end of it, a jumble of modern and ancient buildings, shanty roofs, and Mosques pile up the hillsides. Near the bridge, there were a host more stalls selling all manner of "street meat". In one stall a man was throwing mackerel fillets on a hot grill. The smell was enough to lure us over, and we each came away with a lovely sandwich of freshly grilled fish, sweet onions and lemon juice.

On the Galata side of the bridge, the hill rises so steeply to the tower that the ascent is made by a series of stairs through the town. We were mapless, and just sort of aimed in the general direction of the tower. It disappeared from view for a little while, and we were concerned that we might be going the wrong direction, but then suddenly the entire vista at the end of a narrow, crooked street was occupied by grey stone. Unfortunately it cost 10 lyra to go to the top of the tower, and none of us were feeling flush enough to pay so much for just a view - especially since we had just paid that same amount to see the whole of Haggia Sophia.

We decided to wander around the neighborhood and find the perfect Turkish Apple Tea. Eventually we found ourselves at an open-air cafe right on the water. Istanbul has a population of 12 million people and just about as many cats. Our table came with its own black and white version. As we sipped out tea, small boys in their undies hopped in and out of the river, work boats chugged by, and local dogs tussled in the grass. The smell in the air was somewhere between saltwater and fish, with undercurrents of diesel fuel and cooking. Not a particularly nice smell, but rich and alive. And a little reminiscent of home - the earthy smells of marsh and working that often permeate the backwaters of the Chesapeake Bay.

We continued our walk along the water to catch our tram home, and everywhere were the cats and fish stalls. The stalls consisted of both newspaper covered racks, and tubs filled with water pumped up from the sea, cycled through the tubs, and back again. The fish were all very fresh, often the ones in the tubs were still swimming. It seemed that they had been netted either from the bridge, or the same boats we had been watching from the cafe. Several of the stalls also contained gas burners or simple grills serving up the freshest seafood imaginable. In between the fish stalls were fruit and nut sellers, and even an old man with a tray of oranges and a juice press. All around people were gossiping over tea, haggling, eating and smoking. It was truly a feast for the senses.

We took a shower and a little rest in the afternoon - we were pretty sweaty and grubby from our ramblings - and then headed out for another dose of street food and night sights. This time we introduced the Aussies to the mussels, and ordered ten each for ourselves. After feasting on shellfish, we ordered apple tea from a strolling hawker, more roasted corn, and a round of kebabs. Happily sated, we went on a quest for a bottle of vodka to mix with some juice we had purchased earlier in the day. The Kebab stall owner took us to a cafe run by his friend. The cafe owner couldn't sell us a bottle, but took us to a liquor stall run by one of his friends. A few lyra and a short walk later, we were back on our very own rooftop terrace sipping coctails, watching the lights of boats, and listening to music from the surrounding cafes. There was even a fireworks display across the water, and heat lightning streaking the sky. Quite a lovely end to quite a lovely day.