To the Magnificent Land of the Turks

---

I watched the green Irish countryside fly by beneath me. It wasn’t long before darkness obliterated the view, so I pulled out my guide book for the Middle East and I turned to the section on Turkey and I started reading about Istanbul, a city I knew virtually nothing about. I quickly learned that the city had started its life as Byzantium in 667BC. From the banks of the Sea of Marmara, at the mouth Bosporus, Byzantium grew to be a very prosperous city. Roman emperor Constantine chose Byzantium to be the site for the capitol of the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire in AD330. He then changed the name of the city to ‘New Rome’, but Constantinople was what it became known as. The city continued to grow and prosper due to its strategic location at the crossroads of the known world. Eventually, just when the Byzantine Empire was beginning to fade, the Seljuk Turks rode in from the steppes to the east and crushed the Byzantines, who managed to hold on to Constantinople for a while. In the 1200’s crusaders from the Fourth Crusade flowed into Constantinople with aims of ‘saving the Christian city from the advancing Muslims’. Instead of helping, the crusaders, assisted by a Venetian force, sacked Constantinople and pushed the Byzantines out. Later in the thirteenth century the Byzantines regained Constantinople. The Seljuks, who had established their capitol in nearby Konya, were crushed by a Mongol invasion in the late thirteenth century. Of the many Turkish states that rose up in Anatolia in the wake of the Mongol invasion, one led by Osman grew into the Ottoman Empire. Constantinople finally fell to the forces of an Ottoman Sultan known as Mehmet the Conqueror in 1453, bringing an end to the Byzantine Empire. It was then that the ancient city took on its present name of Istanbul…

My history lesson was interrupted by an unexpected thud as the wheels of the plane touched down at London’s Heathrow airport. My flight to Istanbul was not due to leave until first thing in the morning, so I had about eight hours to kill. I tried in vain to find out which terminal my flight would be leaving from, but nobody seemed to have a clue. I decided that it must be leaving from the international terminal, so I jumped on the train for Terminal 4. All of the food places were closed when I got there, so I reluctantly selected my dinner from one of the overpriced vending machine. I found a nice shiny place on the floor near a row of seats and I laid down and went to sleep. I slept surprisingly well, though I woke up a few times to see if they had posted my flight’s gate. About three hours before my flight was due to leave someone finally showed up and let me know that my flight was actually leaving from the main terminal, the one I had arrived at. I quickly went back down to the train only to discover that it was not going to start running for another half hour! When the train finally arrived I quickly made my way to the proper terminal. I got a little worried when I saw the mass of humanity that was waiting in line in front of me - I don’t think I have ever seen so many people in an airport. I slowly made my way through the check-in line and then I went and checked my backpack at the ‘bulky luggage’ window - Apparently the straps on my pack required special care that only that particular window could handle. When I arrived at the security line, which appeared to wrap around the Earth three times, I still had an hour and a half before my flight. It was an amazing thing - The line that had seemed so daunting at first only took me twenty minutes to get through, which must be a record. On the other side of security I stared up at the departure list only to find that my flight had not been assigned a gate yet. I sat down at a restaurant and ate a quick English breakfast and then I went back to the departure sign - Still no gate. I stood there with about ten other people who were also bound for Istanbul and we joked about the fact that our flight, which was due to leave in ten minutes, was still listed as ‘On Time’, but without a gate - We confirmed with one of the airport personnel that the sign was accurate and that we were not in danger of missing our flight, so we relaxed a bit. Nine minutes later an announcement over the intercom coincided with the gate popping up on the list we were looking at. We all took off towards our gate, which happened to be a good distance away. Half an hour later I was seated next to a quiet Turkish man waiting for my flight to take off. A short time after that I watched the English Channel pass beneath me and knew that I was finally on my way.

I took out my guide book again and started reading more about the history of Turkey. As I read about Suleyman the Magnificent and the golden age of the Ottoman Empire, images from some of my favorite stories started filling my mind and my excitement began to build - It would seem that I was going to finally see, first hand, the lands of the Thousand and One Nights. I read of the demise of the Ottoman Empire in World War I and the rise of Mustafa Kemal, better known As Ataturk - I had never heard of him before, but he is considered the father of modern Turkey. Kemel was an obscure military commander who boldly disobeyed orders from his superiors at the battle of Gallipoli, which resulted in the Turkish army repelling the Anzac forces from the peninsula. He then swept across Turkey in a war of independence that eventually succeeded in creating a Turkish republic. I read about the bold changes he set in motion like equal rights for everyone (easier said than done). He also instated democracy and began using the Latin script in lieu of the Arabic script, which literally meant re-writing the Turkish language. Another big change he made was a surprise to me - He moved the capitol of Turkey from Istanbul to Ankara. I had reached the end of the shockingly inadequate ‘history’ section in my guide book, so I closed it and started thinking about what I was going to find when we landed.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. American media has done everything in their power to vilify the Middle East and everyone who lives there. Turkey, while being one of the most open minded of the Islamic nations, is also one of the most traditional on a personal level. Everyone, my mom included, that I had talked to from back home had cautioned me about how unsafe it was in the Middle East. Each of them based all of their knowledge on the region and the people who lived there on what they had learned on the news. Considering the fact that the ‘War on Terror’ and all of the propaganda floating on the airways to justify it has made it difficult for Americans to see the whole picture of the Middle East, their views were understandable. After all, most of what is considered ‘Good News’ in America, car bombs, fanatical suicide bombers, beheadings, kidnappings, angry students burning Uncle Sam in effigy and chanting “Down with America” and the likes, does happen in the Middle East. Of course, focusing on those rare occurrences to gain an understanding of a region and its inhabitants is a dangerous and misleading practice. I remember one night sitting at home in Atlanta, Georgia. I was watching the evening news with my parents. We suffered through five or six stories about recent murders, one of which had claimed an entire family, and then one on a serial rapist, all having happened in the Atlanta area over the previous weeks - There was not a single happy story on the entire news broadcast, despite the smiles on the anchors’ faces. If the only information I had available to form my opinion of Atlanta from was that news cast, or others like it, then I would have been terrified to step out of my door, but having lived in Atlanta for most of my life, I knew that the horrors from the news broadcast were such a miniscule side of the big picture of Atlanta. In fact, my parents and I, even after that broadcast, still thought of Atlanta as a pleasant and safe city to live in. The same, I was sure, applied to the Middle East. I had ignored all of the pleas from my family and friends regarding skipping my time in the Middle East. I even had to ignore comments from fellow ‘open-minded’ travelers, most of whom had never even been to the region, who said that it wouldn’t be safe for an American there. I had decided at the start of my travels that, come what may, I would not hide the fact that I was an American, after all, I am still proud of my American heritage, despite the dark times we are in right now, so I politely turned down the maple leaf patch that was offered to me - I had not had a problem from anybody, excepting one closed-minded British girl in Africa, regarding my nationality during my entire trip, so I didn’t see any reason to start pretending I was someone I was not then. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to let the people of the world know that the average American is not a warmongering imperialist, bent on world domination.

My thought process was interrupted when the plane lurched and started descending. The captain came on the intercom to let us know that we had begun our descent into Istanbul. I watched as the distant hills and buildings came into view and started to take shape. I marveled at the ancient cityscape that sprawled out beneath us. It was the strangest skyline I had ever seen, one of graceful domes and towering minarets that pierced the sky and it spoke of the mysteries that were in store for me - Needless to say I was excited and just a little overwhelmed. We had a smooth landing and then I made my way through the surprisingly simple immigrations area where I received my cool looking Turkish visa. I collected my backpack and then I got some Turkish Lira out of the ATM. I asked a lady at an information desk how I could get into the Sultanahmet area, where I was planning on staying, and she directed me to the train system that ran beneath the airport. Just like that I was through customs and headed into the unknown realm of Islam and the magnificent land of the Turks.

I didn’t have to wait long before a train heading into town came to a stop in front of me and the doors opened. I stepped into the crowded car and the doors closed behind me and I was off. All around me were nicely dressed Turkish men and traditionally dressed Turkish women, some wearing the totally concealing burqa. As I looked around the car, every face I came to was smiling a broad, welcoming smile, the kind that can’t be faked, and any misgivings I may have had regarding the friendliness of the Turks were completely crushed. I knew I had to change trains when I got closer to town, so I carefully listened to the voice coming over the intercom at every new station. It quickly became a game as I read the upcoming station name, trying to get the correct pronunciation before the lady said it. At first I couldn’t get a single name even close, but by the time we got to Aksaray Station I had picked up many of the sounds I needed and I was starting to get the words correct. I got off of the train at Aksaray and I left the station. Not having any idea which direction to go I just started following the tracks through the busy streets. The map I had was very general, but after a few blocks I began to realize I was walking in the wrong direction. I stopped and studied the map a bit more closely. It turned out that I had missed a vital piece of information - The station I was looking for was beside an old mosque. All it took was a quick glance up and I spotted the towering minaret rising up from a green, park-like area behind me. I headed towards the lovely domed structure and then I found the Yusufpasa Station. I climbed the steps, crossed a pedestrian bridge over the busy street and headed down to the station. It took me a few moments longer to figure out how to purchase a token, but I still made it to the platform in time for the next train.

The second train was even more crowded than the first, but everyone made an effort to make room for me and my backpack. We were packed tightly into the car, yet everyone was still smiling. Universite, Beyazit, Cemberlitas - My pronunciation was getting better with every stop. Finally - Sultanahmet - I got off of the crowded train and took my bearings. The towering minarets of two of the most magnificent buildings ever built with human hands rose high above the trees of a large park and let me know exactly where I was. My first priority was to find a hostel and stash my bag. I set off walking through the park to where the majority of the hostels were located in a tourist neighborhood on the far side. I passed the monument studded hippodrome, where Roman chariots used to race, and then I found myself staring face to face with the cascade of domes and half domes and the six slender minarets of the grand Sultanahmet Mosque, better known as the Blue Mosque. I got completely caught up in the atmosphere and I forgot about my backpack for a moment. The thick crowd of people jostling about all around me was made up of devout Muslim pilgrims, proud locals and awestruck tourists, as well as the usual accompaniment of entrepreneurs peddling their wares and police keeping the peace - It was an amazing place. I was standing there admiring the mosque when I noticed a few tourists standing with their backs towards the grand building and their cameras pointed into the park behind me - It was then that I remembered what was back there and excitement rose up in me again as I quickly turned my gaze behind me. There, rising up out of the greenery behind me, almost like a mirror image of the blue mosque, though considerably older, was the imposing dome and minarets of the massive, brick and mortar Aya Sofya, a building that Emperor Justinian built in AD537. A building that reined as the grandest monument to Christianity for nearly a thousand years until the Ottomans swept in 1453 and the building was born again as a mosque. Still today, the Aya Sofya, also known as the Haghia Sofia, is considered to be one of the most magnificent buildings in existence. The two grand buildings, the crowded park, the beautiful fountain and the stunning atmosphere that surrounded me made it difficult to pull away, but my recently lightened pack was beginning to weigh me down and I knew I had to move on. I entered the maze of old buildings, carpet shops and restaurants that made up the tourist district and I walked for a while before I found the first hostel on my list - It was full. The second and third hostels ended with a similar fate, though one of them did offer me a space on their roof. I turned the corner and spotted another hostel called ‘the Big Apple’ that didn’t appear in my guide. They had a bed available, so I quickly checked in and went up to my room. I had found my home in Istanbul.

After I stashed my bag I set off to find some food and to do a bit more exploring before night set in. I found a nice place near all of the action at the park and I sat down and enjoyed a kebab and a cup of tea. The owner of the place came and sat down with me for a while and we talked about everything from America and Turkey to the war raging across the Middle East. When I finished my meal the man said, “Welcome to Turkey!” and we parted ways. I walked around for another several hours, aimlessly wandering through the busy tourist thoroughfares and the narrow back alleys, finding treasures around every corner. It was an odd feeling, but I felt more at ease walking around Istanbul than I had felt in any other big city I had been in. I was getting tired, so I decided to head back towards the hostel. I stopped along the way and grabbed another kebab from a street vender and then, just before I made it back to the park, I walked into a pastry shop and purchased some heavenly looking baklava, a treat that would become a staple of mine over the coming months.

Back at the hostel I spent the evening sitting on the roof top with several other travelers talking about Turkey and sipping tea under a blanket of stars. A cool breeze flowed in from the Sea of Marmara, the subtle scent of flavored tobacco from the nargila pipes filled the air and the soft, exotic sounds of the Middle East surrounded us. The call to prayer booming across the city from the many mosques completed the atmosphere and transported me straight into the land of the ‘Thousand and One Nights’ - It was a beautiful evening and a perfect start to my journey through Turkey.

---

Photos

The Blue Mosque
This is one of the most magnificent buildings I have ever seen.

Haghia Sophia
This structure was built nearly 1500 years ago and it is still in great shape. It started its life as a church and then a mosque and now it is a museum.

In the Park
The park separating the two amazing structures was a wonderful place to sit and watch the people go by.

Aya Sofya
This is one of the oldest and grandest buildings in the world.

Walking in Istanbul
This is one of the many amazing structures I found as I walked around Sultanahmet.

A Red Cow
I don't quite know what the significance of the cows are, but they were everywhere.

Another Cow
Sorry, I like the cow sculptures - I managed to find a bunch of them in Mexico City when I was there as well.

Comments

[Odonnell]

Thank You For Your Blogs
Howdy Keith Martin. You don't know me but, I came across your travelblog a few years past by accident. I was surfing internet while being click happy. I completely enjoy your blog. I'll never be able to travel to the destinations you've been to and I'm glad that you are able to. I truly get the feel of the land from seeing your photos and reading what you have to say in your own words. Your photos are magnificant but, you word your blog like an average guy with no pretentious words or paragraphs. I get a better understanding from what you've written than reading any National Geographic magazine, which is mostly advertisements now. You write as if you're speaking comfortably to a family member or friend. Anywho. I've been reading your travelblog for a few years now and I just wanted to thank you for taking the time, effort and nerve in sharing your travel adventures with the online community. May good luck and safety follow you in your future endeavours. D Odonnell

[Raf Jah]

Superb descripription
I love the fact that you are proud of your Americanness. Well done! More well done for being able to write so well. As you plane descended I knew exactly where you were. I've flown/bussed and trained into and outof Istanbul so many times that i could almost guess the runway you used. You've also really got a grip on the nation. Every backpacker should take that metro into town. Go east- see the rest. You'll be so surprised. Cheers raf