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Published: November 7th 2012
Istanbul may not be the capital but it's the beaurocratic heart of a nation often seen as the voice of reason in a region constantly on the verge of spontaneously igniting. If this city is anything to go by, Islam can live hand in hand with a few of the "vices" of contemporary western society. Just add a splash of tolerance.
Istanbul's cliched self promo reads; "Where East Meets West", and this town walks that walk.
While there are latherings of the west in dress codes, dining, music and social habits, stand down by the Bosphorus and peer up at the Sultanhamet skyline for the flip side. Despite any western tinges, it's obvious Allah still holds plenty of sway. A swathe (does anybody know the collective noun for a group of mosques) of chest pumping mosques loom larger than life over the urban landscape below.
Not to mention the wake up calls. Throughout Europe it was regularly the chiming of church bells that would welcome the dawning of the day. Here it's the call to prayer bellowing over the city and for a boy from Oz, that's wildly exotic. Neither is it simply a lone mosque belting out
the reverence. You'll hear any number of wails, as if they are competing for a slice of pious one-upmanship.
The Bosphorus that cuts Istanbul in half plays not only a geographical traffic cop but also something of an ideological divide. Did somebody say eclectic? Two states within a state. Europe and Asia. East and west. Sultanhamet and Beyoglu. It's a good old fashioned face off either side of the Galat Bridge.
We parked ourselves for 8 nights on the Beyoglu side, European to the core and Istikal Street is the central pulse of the area. It's kind of pedestrianised, save an ancient tram and a couple of horribly disoriented cars. This street is the best attempt I've come across as doubling for Barcelona's Las Ramblas. At any time of day it feels as though half of Istanbul's 13 million residents are trying to shuffle through its confines.
Here buskers ply their"trade". High end fashion designers and über trendy boutiques line the peripheries. The fairer sex aren't too averse at "flashing some flesh" as they sit around edgy restaurants or bohemian cafes nursing a glass of red whilst the groomed up guys sip a brew or two. In
the tributary lanes, antique stores are bookended by dozens of bars with live music pulsing out the doorways.This is the side of Istanbul to live it up, particularly after the sun goes down.
By day, head across the Galat Bridge to Sultanhamet. This is where you'll find all the sights that draw in camera toting plebs like ourselves. Ayasofia, Topkapi Palace and all those mosques, The Blue Mosque being the Big Daddy, dominate the viewfinders.
Secularism may be alive and kicking in Istanbul but Sultanhamet is austere enough for basic black hijabs to be the fashion of choice amongst a high proportion of the ladies.
It is also where you will find shopping Middle East style. The Grand Bazaar and some smaller souqs may have compromised themselves to tourism way back when, but they are also haunted by enough Turks combing for a bargain to lend some authenticity.
The scourge of the Turkish bazaar has traditionally been its carpet sellers. Over the years they've been forced to soften their approach due to the backlash from a blitzkrieg of traveller complaints. On our last visit 5 years ago, the mere mention of the word carpet, the smell
Now that's a hat.
He wants his hat and eat it too.of wool fibre or the offering of tea was enough to get the robot's arms waving:
"Warning traveller Warning"!
Your safest option was to turn and run for your life lest you be left walking out stunned an hour later and a thousand or so dollars lighter with a rug you know you didn't want rolled up under the armpit.
Using all sorts of diversionary tactics, these guys were ultra adept at luring unsuspecting victims through the doors of their emporiums.
"Come into my parlour" said the spider to the fly. Every escape hatch would slam shut and the "customer" was a dead man walking.
The contemporary vendor has adapted an infinitely more subtle rhetoric:
"Allow me to sell you something you don't need", or
"Please don't break my heart", for example.
It's all quite witty, BUT, buyer beware. There's a new kid in town to fill the void of unscrupulous behaviour and I thus fell victim to:
Fleecing of the Week.
I was up for a haircut and with the quoted price sitting at a respectable $6, I couldn't afford NOT to sit in the good barber's chair. Turns
Water seller
The real money is having his photo snapped. out a haircut can take on a whole new range of dimensions in that price tag:
- The shampoo and head massage.
- The cut throat razor shave. I wasn't about to argue the point with that one.
- The mud pack.
- The face cleanse.
- The after shave lotion. There's a 10 on the sting scale after a close shave.
- The moisturiser.
- The blowtorch? If you have hairy ears, bring along a fire extinguisher to a Turkish barber and prepare for a smell that will outlast cash money.
- Armpit shave. Not being the hairiest bloke in the world I could have asked for a discount on that one.
- Hot wax on the nose. Excuse me ladies, but how do you do that to yourselves?
- Nasal hairs. Could have used a whipper snipper on my nose.
- Neck massage.
- Knuckle cracking.
- 500% inflation on the $6
WHAT THE!
If you don't fancy a confrontation, avoid a trim in Turkey or fess up the agreed price before the guy takes to you with the full range of tools.
Have to admit it did feel darn sweet afterwards.
Following the fleecing of the week comes the pain of the week.Our hotel room ended up being a charismatic loft apartment with a wee balcony overlooking the the back street rooftops. Very ambient except with a pitched roof there's plenty of ducking and sometimes you don't duck far enough. Right now the crown of my head is sporting more lumps than a breast implant clinic. Ooh that smarts.
9 months down now and Penny and myself were becoming world weary and the first signs of home sickness were settling in. That was until Istanbul gave us the shot in the arm we needed to keep on keeping on. This town is one of the greats. Don't miss it!
Yeatesy
It's always nice to return to a city and notice change. Istanbul is one such city.
I have fond memories of Turkey and especially Istanbul from when we were last here 5 years ago. The city looks as though it has had a bit of a face lift and appears quite prosperous with a number of public works underway. There are new trams and
Blue Mosque gals
Checking out a photo of themselves in secret. taxis, and the traffic seems to follow some orderly direction most of the time. All in all, Istanbul is looking like it is faring better than some of its European neighbours.
If you want good food at very affordable prices, Istanbul is up there, unlike it's little cousin in the south Marmaris where everything is catering for the English tourist. (bangers and mash!!!! In Turkey)
We chose to stay on the north side of Istanbul away from the main tourist sites and closer to local Turkish life. Our loft room is in the centre of Taksim, a busy, hustling bustling area full of department stores, universities, restuarants, bars and of course baklava and Turkish delight vendors. Not to mention the very entrepreneurial umbrella sales people who have their products out and up on the street within the first spot of rain.
As we approach month 10 into our travels Istanbul was also to be a stop in which we would spend time doing research and planning for the middle eastern stage of the trip. So while we still ventured out each day and did typical tourist sites we also packed in a few off the beaten tourist
track and regular type things into the week.
Gary of course managed to get himself ripped off at the barbers. You would think when they start removing you hair from your armpits and cover your face in green goo that the haircut has gone awfully wrong. Not Gary, in true Yeatesy style, he sat back and let the barber have his way with him. When the barber asked for a highly inflated payment, Gaz turned to me for help, a bit too late by then.
However, apart from Gary's infamous haircut, we also ventured to the movies a few nights. A little indulgence while we were able to watch western movies without needing to read the Turkish subtitles. The movies in Turkey are the same as in Australia except for a few minor points. Firstly, you are ushered to your seat by a old man, usually not much taller than myself shining his torch and directing to your seats, in a totally empty theatre. The hand also comes out for a tip or gratuity, but since I was so taken with the fact we needed to be escorted to our seats in a completely empty cinema, I didn't
notice the hand gesture. Half way into the movie they stop for interval just at the most critical part of the movie. The guy who directed you to your seats brings around popcorn, drinks and candy. Once he is out again, the movie continues. So we managed to catch up on a few flicks.
And since Gary had himself spruced up, I thought I too would get some grooming done. So I am pleased to say I now have no greys, a neat haircut and a glamorous blow dry for less than Gary's pamper session.
Penny
More images at:
www.colvinyeates.zenfolio.com
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Anastasia78
Anastasia78
Perfect!
Absolutely love this photo. Great job!