
Walking the streets you hear music from all cultures and see both locals, old and young, sipping tea contemplating their next moves in backgammon and homeless cats warming in the sunspots on the cobblestone roads. Eye level will deceive you of the city, for most of the treasurable places sit on the upper levels or terraces.
Six times a day the ezan is chanted. From anywhere in Istanbul you can hear the chant projected from mosque loudspeakers. Although the voice itself was not beautiful to my ear, the sound and meaning of it was heartening. Every time.

Cruised to Büyükada, the largest of the Princes’ islands, on the Sea of Marmara. Motorized vehicles are prohibited, leaving horse-drawn carriages, bicycles and your own legs as the modes of transportation. We rode bicycles up and down hills, exploring the lush, picturesque island. Passing through forested parks and neighborhoods filled with sumptuous estates. Finally reaching a local seaside vacation spot. Sunbathed listening to young, vibrant Turkish music watching the calm sea.

The Blue Mosque. Six minarets show it’s distinctness. Tradition, even for turists, for women to cover their heads, and all to dress conservatively and remove their shoes prior to entering. Cleanliness. Two separate praying areas exist for each gender. The simplicity within the walls moved me.

And oh the food. And coffee. Turkish coffee. Small dose, great satisfaction. Köfte. A delicious meatball. Kebabs and şiş. Desserts. Pistachio and fig galore. Erik. A mini apple looking tart fruit. Street vendor grilled corn and roasted chestnuts. The language barrier couldn’t hinder my tasting. Luckily when it comes to food you can just point.
Hey girl:
ReplyDeleteYou really did a nice job of describing Istanbul. You definitely have a flair for writing. You captured some very wonderful memories of that unique city. Anxious to catach your next blog for Lisbon and Portugal. Hope you're well. I still wish I was on vacation. Keep in touch.
Love you,
Mom