Ann Marie’s Istanbul

I’m going to the Asian side to visit friends this evening (about 8 miles as the crow flies), and believe it or not, it’s FAR faster to do the trip by ferryboat than to hazard the Istanbul traffic. It’s one of the beauties of living on the Bosphorus. Let’s see…would I rather stand, sweating, on an overcrowded bus as it creeps along the shore road, or sit on the open deck of a ferry boat with a fresh Bosphorus breeze on my face? Hmmm…

My view overlooking the Bosphorus (Kuleli Military Academy)

The Bosphorus has become a huge part of my life here in Istanbul. Not only does it provide transportation and a lovely place to walk, it offers a spectacular view from the Robert College campus. What a lift it is to look out over the Bosphorus from the school each day—unreal! Though it’s an altitudinal challenge, I have resolved to walk down to the Bosphorus every day—just because I can. My record is slightly less than perfect, but it’s been great.

A Bosphorus sailing regatta—a rare occurrence, happening only a few times a year.

It’s amazing to live above the busiest waterway in the world. Although it’s actually a strait, it looks more like a huge river with hills towering on each side. Twenty miles long, the Bosphorus is always busy with tour boats (speakers blaring in every language), ferries (much quieter), day/night cruises (traveling cocktail and dinner parties), and commercial ships plying the lanes both north and south. Some of the container ships are of mind-boggling size, to say the least. And believe me, they leave a mega-wake.

The bustling, busy Bosphorus–at Rumeli Castle

The Bosphorus connects the Black Sea with the Sea of Marmara (about the size of Lake Superior). It has formidable currents—I often see the water’s surface churning. Apparently there are double currents, with less saline waters flowing down from the Black Sea at a velocity of 1-2 m per second, while the Maramara’s more saline, denser water flows north at lower depths nearly four times as fast (from the Encyclopedia of Ukraine). Expert Bosphorus pilots are ferried out to each ship as it enters the waterway to guide them up (or down) the Bosphorus, disembarking at the other end to board another ship for the trek back.

A spectacular yalı (Bosphorus waterfront mansion)

But the charm of the Bosphorus is more than that; it’s the lovely yalı (old mansions) along the water, the fishermen (and women) casting along the quay, and the pleasure boats.

Fishermen on the quay…

…and others fishing from boats.

It’s seaside restaurants and tea gardens, the ever-changing lights on the first bridge, and the ornate Ortaköy mosque. It’s beautifully lit historical buildings at night—ah, the Rumeli Castle (I just learned that “rumeli” means European, with roots back to the Orthodox Christians), and the moon rising over the hills.

My friend Annie and her daughter, Jess at the Rumeli Castle

Unfortunately, it has some problems. It’s choked with jellyfish and too much trash, which will hopefully change before long. (Istanbul is making great strides in recycling and clean-up.)

Jellyfish abound in the lee of the yachts along the quay.

My home at Robert College in Arnavutköy overlooks the Bosphorus, with the Kuleli Military School dominating the view, especially when it’s lit at night.

It’s amazing. It’s inimitable. It’s the Bosphorus.

My night view—Ah! The Bosphorus!

In early April my friend Marnie told me to set aside May 27th for a big event at the Koç School. When I realized it was a Tuesday I was disappointed. The trip from my home on the European side of Istanbul to hers on the easternmost Asian side is long; though only 20 miles, it’s about 3 hours on public transport— a daunting trip for a school night. I changed my attitude, though, when she said it was a live music event. THAT would be worth the trek!

I caught a school service bus to the Asian side of the Bosphorus (only 45 minutes), then hopped on the train to Pendik (another 45, including the wait). I walked four blocks up to the bus “station,” where I was the first to board the next blue mini-bus. Another 20 minute wait, and I was on the 40-minute ride to the Koç School. It had taken me 2 ½ hours from Robert College to the Koç School, record time for afternoon rush hour. Lucky me!

As I checked in at the gate, familiar smiles greeted me, eager for news of my life since Koç. In my limited Turkish I managed a short account before starting the trek across campus to the Paulus’ house.

The guards’ warm welcome brightened my walk along the familiar sidewalks and lawns—nostalgia hit as I cut through the student commons, a huge glass pyramid that joins the major wings of the high school. On my way through, I noticed a poster for Brooks Williams, the headliner for the school’s upcoming talent show. Hmmm…

Brooks beams at his audience.

Marnie and Tony welcomed me with warm hugs and introduced me to their friend Brooks Williams. In the flesh. He’s actually just a regular guy, though I was soon to learn an incredibly talented one. Brooks was the featured event for the evening of backyard music. The Pauluses have known him for years, and he interrupted a musical tour of England to buzz down and join them in Istanbul for a week. An accomplished acoustic guitarist and folk singer, his music is reminiscent of Leo Kotke or John Fahey—my favorites—and he’s that good, too. (Check him out at http://www.myspace.com/redguitarbluemusic .)

The Koç School’s two Davids enjoy Brooks’ folk strumming.

I basked in the warmth of good friends at Koç—about 20 or 30 teachers, staff, administrators, and their lovely children. We were wined and dined with an impressive spread of fabulous mezes (Turkish hors d’oeuvres), then congregated outdoors for music. Ahhhh…Music!

The perfect way for folks to enjoy guitar…

Brooks awed us with both voice and guitar for nearly an hour as the sun sank over the hills of Istanbul, then two local musicians, Tolga and Erdem, took center stage with Turkish folk music. They demonstrated some fascinating percussive techniques, which were great fun. Then, of course, the three guitarists joined together for a jam session, a delightful finale to the evening—which ended far too soon for my tastes.

Tolga and Erdam “strut their stuff”.

The next night brought more live music, this time on my side of the Bosphorus for dinner and jazz. I arrived at Eminönü about an hour early (you never know how long a trip will take with Istanbul traffic), so I headed for the Rustem Paşa Mosque (a favorite spot) to relax in the breezy shade of its second-story courtyard. Lo and behold, who should walk in but Tony, Marnie, Brooks, and Mesure (a Turkish friend from Koç), also early arrivals to the city. Speaks to the charm of the Rustem Paşa, doesn’t it?

The outdoor prayer terrace at Rustem Paşa Mosque

Rustem Paşa interior: a man at prayer

After enjoying the mosque, Mesure treated us to a delicious array of culinary delights at the Hamdi Restaurant (a traditional favorite), then after dinner Brooks and I worked off a bit of our dinner with a trek across the Golden Horn and up the cobbled lanes to Nardis, a night club just below the Galata Tower, where we met others for an evening of jazz (and, of course, rakı—a traditional Turkish drink).

The Nardis was great, but how can you beat the intimacy of good friends at a backyard concert? It just can’t be done, not even in Istanbul.

Yup! Great tunes!

And—tonight I’m going to a Jethro Tull concert. Imagine that!

Istanbul is about people, about history and about—yes, WATER! This may be the only major city that is both divided and surrounded by water. The Sea of Marmara borders Istanbul on the south, while the Bosphorus divides the European side from the Asian side, connecting to the Black Sea on the north. The European side of the city is divided into two more sectors by the Golden Horn. Water, water everywhere.

The Kadiköy-Eminönü Ferry, with the Aya Sofya (Haghia Sophia) behind it

The dilemma this creates, though, is transport. This city of over 11 million people has continuous comings and goings, and less than a fourth of its residents own cars. Two bridges span the Bosphorus, connecting the two continents (in a veritable traffic nightmare), while an intricate system of ferries totes the majority of commuters across the water from one side to the other. It’s also a great way to bypass the traffic jams that plague Istanbul.

Bridge across the Bosphorus

A private Ninja Turtle shuttle near the Ortaköy Mosque

Having spent my first two years on the Asian side, I first became familiar with the ferries from Kadiköy. Huge two and three-story ferryboats cross the Bosphorus about every half hour to Eminönü (the historical European side—Sultanahmet and the Grand Bazaar), with others heading to Karaköy (across the Golden Horn from Eminönü). Those ferries carry anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand people. Two weeks ago I rode one with a mob of fans after a Fenerbahçe match—what a rush THAT was!

Fenerbahçe Fans fill the ferry–happily!

27 ferry stations serve the Marmara and the Bosphorus, with additional fast ferries serving points around the busier spots. You can also hire a water taxi, though I’ve only managed it once after missing the ferry from Eyup (near the end of the Golden Horn). My friends and I would have missed a Whirling Dervish performance, so we hired a little wooden skiff-taxi that I’m convinced was propelled by an inboard lawnmower motor. We arrived at our destination safe, though a bit chilly.

Our Golden Horn private shuttle leaves from our destination. Note the inboard motor. Hmmm…

A ferry ride across the Bosphorus can be a lovely experience, particularly on a warm, sunny day. The ferry offers outside seating on benches along the perimeter and more outdoor benches at one end of the upper level, though the majority of the seating is inside. There’s a small concessionary on the second level, with a waiter who circulates throughout the ferry selling tea in glass tulip cups for about 50 cents. The ride usually takes about a half hour, a chance to relax and enjoy the water, the gulls, and views of Topkapı Palace, the Aya Sofya, and the Süleymaniye Mosque that dominate the city. The dance of ferries as they navigate around each other is amazing; only once did we nearly collide.

Ferries crossing, viewed from the outdoor upper deck
There are a few more modern ferries that cross the Marmara Sea, connecting Istanbul with Bursa and areas to the south. The Marmara (which means “marble”) is about the size of Lake Superior, though significantly warmer (and safer). There has been talk of modernizing all of Istanbul’s ferry boats, but people are hesitant to give up the charm of the city’s old ships. I understand. It would be sad to see them go. The newer ships that cross the Marmara are pleasant, but more like an airplane than a boat.

The Gebze-Yalova ferry across the Marmara

Now that I live on the Bosphorus, I’ve taken ferries from Beşiktaş to Üsküdar, as well as smaller rides between the nearby communities of Bebek and Emirgan. Ortaköy offers a small tourist ferry ride all summer, where for a mere 5 lira you can ride up the Bosphorus to the next bridge and back down, just to relax and enjoy the beauty of the Bosphorus. It’s grand.

What could be more Turkish than this!

At the risk of redundancy, I must share more of my floral enthusiasm. Last Sunday some friends and I walked up to Emirgan Park (my third trip), and we were totally WOWED by the displays. Tulipmania abounds in Istanbul.

After a two-hour walk along the Bosphorus (with a welcome stop for tea and treats), we wended our way through the tea gardens of Emirgan up to the south end of the park. Coming in the side entrance wasn’t all that spectacular, but it made for a much more gradual hike up to the summit. After passing well-peopled playgrounds and picnic areas, we found the tulips. Tulips, tulips, tulips.

They were everywhere, hillside after hillside planted in spectacular arrangements—blossoms of every shape and hue. Gorgeous! Music drew us up even higher—live music. Hooray! Much to our amazement, we emerged on a huge plaza replete with 7-foot tulip sculptures, each painted a unique design by its own Turkish artist. Too fun!

As we wandered through the tulip forest, Libby was deluged by admirers. Children were mesmerized by her, each tentatively reaching to pet her soft fur. Few Turkish people have indoor pets, though street dogs and cats are well cared for by the country’s many animal lovers. Consequently most children find dogs both frightening and fascinating. It wasn’t long before Libby and I were surrounded by children (and their parents), all asking her name, whether she bites, how old she is, etc., etc., etc. At one point Libby looked a bit panicked, but she managed to maintain her company manners. (She loves children.)

One little girl shadowed us for nearly a half hour. Four-year-old Elif was quite taken with Libby, and her father explained to me that his wife is “very clean and doesn’t want a pet in the house.” He and his daughter obviously love animals, and it was clear that Libby was the highlight of Elif’s park visit. (My Turkish has improved to the point that I can actually carry on a limited conversation. Surprise.)

We sat to listen to the music, soft Turkish rock. The sun beamed down as children played, adults sipped tea, and we all reveled in the magic of this lovely afternoon. It continues to strike me how very much people are alike across the globe—this could have been anywhere.

The drawback of having Libby with us was that we couldn’t sit in one of the park’s shaded outdoor restaurants to indulge in French fries—no dogs allowed. Hmphhhh! Oh, well. We walked down to another music venue and found another snack line. Unfortunately, it was about a mile long. We opted for cheese gözleme (like crepes or lefse fried with cheese inside) from vendors outside the park.

Trees, too, are in bloom, both in the park and on campus. I don’t have the names of all of them, but everyone’s favorite is the Joshua tree, with branches clad in brilliant pink blossoms. There’s also a tree with pale pink carnation-like blossoms, and another with elegant blooms whose fuschia petals reach skyward like fingers, revealing their light-colored insides. I have no idea what it is, but it’s gorgeous.

On campus we have a lavender-blossomed tree called a Pavlovya tree. (Definitely a tree to salivate over.) Last but not least is the wisteria, which is in its full glory this week—huge purple clusters that look a bit like grapes drooping across entrances and draping from trees.

Flowers, flowers, everywhere—Istanbul is in its full glory!

As my friends back in Minnesota shovel yet another few inches of snow off their decks, I marvel at each new blossom on the Robert College Campus. Today we had a fire drill—remember them from your school days? Well, they’ve always been a part of my life. The entire school filed (relatively quietly) out to a small outdoor arena where attendance was taken, we were told it wasn’t a drill after all (Hmmm…today was April Fool’s Day), and we were excused to return to the building. At any rate, on my way back up to the school, I passed a tree covered in huge, lavender trumpet-shaped blossoms, each a few inches long. It was gorgeous—something I’ve never seen. A number of the trees here blossom before any leaves emerge, and the result is spectacular, particularly to one unaccustomed to leaves until the first of June!

Just outside my window is a tree lined with yellow blossoms (though this one has leaves), and on the other side of the building is a bush garbed in brilliant red blooms. Nearly every plant seems to have some kind of bud or blossom. In Minnesota I’d know the names of them all, but here I just marvel. Even the budding leaves here fascinate me—so different! (One pesky plant is familiar—bedstraw, better known to me as Velcro plant—which clings to Libby’s fur every time she ventures off the path. ARAUGHHH!!!!)

As I wander with my camera, Libby’s mission is the campus cats, most of whom know her too well. A little black cat escaped into a tree the other day; chalk one up for Libby. Reportedly our campus hosts seventy cats (mostly strays), nearly equal to the population of on-campus staff. No stray dogs, though—only pets. We even have a cat committee, pledged to catch and neuter every last one. Seems a monumental task, especially as I hear the Tomcats’ lustful yowls at night.

I hear something else at night here, too: the melodic strains of a songbird. Could it be a nightengale? That, too, is a new experience for me, a warm welcome as I wearily climb the long hill to my apartment after a night on the town.

One last note—another sign of spring in Istanbul. While walking with friends near Taksim, we saw a huge crowd of people (mostly men) standing on an overpass. Fishing? Emergency? Accident? Nope. It was the uphill soccer fan crowd, enjoying free nosebleed spots above the stadium—standing room only. There were even police to control the crowd of hundreds. Too funny!

We bypassed the cheering soccer crowds to visit the Pera Museum, where we browsed through a fascinating exhibit of the works of Czech photographer Josef Koudelka. Our tour finished with a flourish: a goodly gawk at The Tortoise Trainer by Osman Hamdi Bey. One of my favorite paintings, it was purchased four years ago by the Koç family for $3,500,000 (certainly the most valuable Turkish painting). I’ve read that it depicts Hamdi Bey’s frustration with Ottoman leaders of his time, intimating that they were as difficult to change (westernize) as training tortoises with a flute (turtles can’t hear, you know, and their hard shells protect them from prodding).

Osman Hamdi Bey was not only a gifted painter, but he was also an intellectual who organized numerous archeological digs in Anatolia (later Turkey) and founded the Istanbul Archeological Museum. Pretty impressive (in spite of the leaders who thwarted his efforts).

We ran into a few friends at the Pera and trekked off together for wine and a light meal in a quaint rooftop café a few blocks away. It was a good day. A great day.

Since my computer fiasco put me a bit behind in my weekly missives, I decided to share a piecemeal look at the past few weeks. I’ve been exploring the area, connecting with old friends, and making new ones. All in all, life is good here in Istanbul.

I joined a group trek to the Halk Art Copper Factory (my third visit) a few weeks ago and came away with some exciting finds. After exploring the entire three stories of new and antique copper wares (thousands of items), the salesmen carried our finds down to their showroom, which displays just one or two of each item. My favorite find was a project for the future. I purchased 40 assorted tempered copper squares that will become a mirror frame once I get home. The copper factory’s ready-made mirrors are gorgeous, but they weigh a ton (serious shipping expense). My other purchases (mostly gifts) were less heavy, but nearly as beautiful.

Copper warehouse shelves of antiques

Halk Art wares in their showroom

Let’s see—I’ve also been doing daily hikes with Libby, morning and evening. We walk down to the Bosphorus every day, and often we head up to the plateau, arguably the most gorgeous spot on campus. Beautifully manicured trees and lawn surround a new running track, but the highlight is an incredible vista overlooking the Bosphorus.

The spectacular view from the plateau

Last week (March 18th) was a Turkish holiday, Çanakkale Day, which marks the Turkish victory over the allied forces at the end of World War I. It was shortly after this bloody battle (Aussies marked particularly huge losses) that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk founded the Turkish Republic. On Turkish holidays every public building is draped with Turkish flags and huge banners of Atatürk, and Robert College is no exception. The patriotism in this country is impressive, in spite of the threat of a growing movement against Atatürk’s secular principles.

Atatürk graces Robert College’s Gould Hall

Last Friday I ferried to the Asian side with a few Robert teachers for a performance of Jean Anouihl’s Antigone at Üsküdar Academy. It which was a fascinating modern version of Sophocles play, adapted to World War II. Afterwards, we ferried back to the European side to catch some wine and spirited conversation (there’s little of the former to be had in Üsküdar).

Saturday I spent the day with Tony and Marnie Paulus, friends who will be leaving Istanbul for a new life in Florida. I showed them around the campus, then we basked in the sun, enjoying the spectacular view of the Bosphorus. Next we headed up to the park at Emirgan to check out the latest development in tulips (lovely—again!)

Not exactly a tulip, but gorgeous nonetheless—

(Actually it’s Fritillaria imperialis rubra maxima, in case you care!) 

From there we headed to Sultanahmet and wandered near the Grand Bazaar. As Koç School Director, Tony seldom gets to explore these areas, and he enjoyed it. We capped off our day with a dinner at the Taş Han’s Arkat Night Club—stageside seats, (thanks to my friend Kemal Ocak) for a floor show for singing, belly dancing, folk dancing, and EVERYBODY dancing. It was great fun, but we old fogies bowed out long before the bulk of the crowd.

Yet another Turkish flower

As you can see, I’m staying busy. I’ve devoted much of the past two weeks to correcting Yearly Homework Projects, poetry projects, and English exams. (I figure about 30 hours total.) I try to keep my paperwork at school, but during exam time, it’s impossible. Ah, well, I chose to be an English teacher, didn’t I? I’m not complaining, mind you. I still love teaching, and heck—it’s my ticket overseas!

Some friends told me last weekend that I should find my way up to Emirgan to see the spring tulips in bloom—incredible, they said. Spectacular! Unforgettable!

Yup, it was.

Of course, getting there was an adventure in itself. After waiting all morning for my laundry (wash only, as the dryer is hardly better than piling wet clothes in the bathtub and waving a hair dryer at them), I draped sheets, clothes, and sundries around my apartment, then headed out to enjoy the sunshine and 70-degree day. Ah, heaven!

Libby is always game for a walk, though I didn’t warn her this would be a long one. (Not that she’d have minded.) We headed down the hill (puppy poop stop), through the security gate (puppy pee stop), and off to the north along the glittering Bosphorus. Our walk, as usual, was punctuated by curious street dogs, quayside fishermen, simit sellers, a balloon man, and countless Sunday strollers. Sunday is “Pazar” here—it means what it sounds like: bazaar. The traffic was “çok kalıbalık”—very congested; we walked faster than the cars.

After an hour we passed the Rumeli Castle, which I have to visit again, asI’ve lost all my photos in a computer meltdown (actually, a laptop wine-down).

After about two hours of walking, we stopped for a breather, a cup of tea and “tost”, sort of a panini-style grilled cheese, in an open street tea garden in Emirgan. The wide cobbled street stretched up from the Bosphorus, filled with tables, chairs, and happy Turks. I was the only “yabancı” (foreigner) in the whole area, which was nice. I chatted with some older men at the next table who were tickled that I knew some Turkish, and of course they loved Libby. They gave me directions to the park up the hill, and soon my little black buddy and I trekked off.

The park was filled with plots of tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, and other blossoms unfamiliar to me, all in superb displays.

I recently learned that tulips originally came from Turkey. (News to me!) They were cultivated as early as 1000 A.D., and they became a symbol for the Ottoman Empire during the 1500’s when Sultan Süleyman popularized them. The bulbs (seeds?) were exported to Europe later that century, though it wasn’t until the 1700’s that tulips became a symbol of wealth and prestige.

The first tulip festivals are charmingly depicted on a gardener’s web site, Tesselaar:

“It was during the early 1700’s that the Turks began what was probably the first of the Tulip Festivals…held at night during a full moon. Hundreds of exquisite vases were filled with the most breath-taking Tulips, crystal lanterns were used to cast an enchanting light over the gardens whilst aviaries were filled with canaries and nightingales that sang for the guests. Romantically, all guests were required to wear colours which harmonised with the flowers!”*

It was during that era that the Dutch began experimenting with tulip bulbs, though the Turks outpaced them in their love of the blossoms for years to come.

Well, our wanderings through the park at Emirgan were enchanting—that is, until my camera batteries wore out. After that, we succumbed to the attentions of countless children charmed by my little black Libby. It was darling. I never cease to be amazed that Turks either love dogs or they’re petrified of them; there’s no middle ground.

Friends for Libby Lou

After four hours of walking, I decided a bus ride home would be in order. Unfortunately, bus drivers aren’t particularly enamored of dogs. Bummer! Plan B was the ferry, scheduled to arrive at Emirgan at 5:15. At 5:30, those of us waiting for the ferry realized that there was tiny red writing at the bottom of the ferry schedule: “begins April 15th” ARAUGHHH!!!

Maybe a private boat?

So—Libby and I began the long trek home, me feeling a bit chilled and hoping to make it before dark, Libby no longer straining at her leash. After about a half hour I gave in to a taxi driver who honked as he approached. It felt GREAT to sit, though it was a slow trek, probably nearly as slow as walking. It was a treat to chat with the driver in my limited Turkish. He’d had a rough day, but he was happy to be down on the Bosphorus. So were we.

“Yavaş, yavaş” (slowly, slowly). My Turkish is improving!

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*”The History of the Tulip.” Tesselaar gardening at its best. 20 Mar 2008
<http://www.tesselaar.net.au/flowerandgarden/thetulip.asp>.

Last weekend my quiet (NOT!) world on the Bosphorus was sparked by two delightful young women: my Australian niece Laura and her friend Anna, university exchange students in Vilnius, Lithuania. When I arrived home Friday they were happily ensconced in my apartment, thrilled to be in Istanbul. Needless to say, their visit was a whirlwind. Friday afternoon we caught a bus and tram to Sultanahmet. The bus was PACKED—sardines-ville. And HOT. (They don’t believe in opening windows here, but that’s another story.) What with an evening of restauranteurs, shopkeepers, and carpet sellers, the girls got a good dose of Turkish hospitality, making Anna a new convert to Turkey. Laura and I already love it.

Anna and Laura Marie

After a huge dinner and a trek to see the Blue Mosque in its night-lit glory, we hopped back on the tram to head home, collapsing exhausted into our beds after the steep hike up the infamous Robert College hill, a fair trade-off for a great location.

Saturday the girls slept in, and after a late breakfast we headed off on foot (with Libby) to Ortaköy, one of the the Bosphorus’ glittering treasures. Just a half hour walk from my lojman, it offers an artisan’s market, tantalizing street foods, a striking many-windowed, water-side mosque, and a Bosphorus ferry. What else could we ask?

One of many jewelry displays

After an hour browsing displays of jewelry, linens, clothing, and trinkets along the cobbled walkways, we relaxed with a cup of tea, watching children feed and chase pigeons on the cobbled square. The sun brightened every cranny of this quaint waterside village. Actually, Ortaköy feels much smaller than it is—with about 200,000 people stretching up the hill from the Bosphorus, it’s one of the most popular spots in Istanbul.

Pigeon chasing can’t be beat!

After tea, we ambled over to where a Bosphorus ferry departs every 20 minutes. Ours was a smaller ferry, a quaint, friendly vessel for our one-hour water tour to the Rumeli Castle and back. Libby loved it (of course), and we all reveled in the stunning early-spring sunshine, in spite of the occasional chilly breeze. Thank goodness for clear plastic zip-down windows. Homes on the Asian side were significantly larger, newer, and better kept than those on the European side; it’s cheaper to live in Asia. Of course, homes anywhere near the Bosphorus are at a premium. I shudder to think what I’d pay for my little campus apartment.

Hamsi (anchovy) fisherman with the Ortaköy Mosque in the background

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We disembarked famished from the ferry—eager to try the kumpir (stuffed baked potatoes), gözleme (Turkish-style flat stuffed crepes), and waffles (filled with fruits and sweets of every kind). Yum. Again—YUM! I hadn’t been all that excited about the kumpir, but take a baked potato, mash it together with butter and cheese, then add pickles, olives, tomatoes, cream cheese, and whatever else you love, and it’s sheer ambrosia. I’d walk to Ortaköy just for kumpir. The spinach gözleme was nice, and the fruit-and-chocolate-filled waffle was nothing to scoff at. Another YUM!

The delicious, inimitable KUMPIR!

Finally we visited the mosque. Lovely from the outside, I’d never been inside. Big mistake. Laura took Libby so I could go in to take a few pictures, and I was entranced with mosque’s natural light. Though its exterior is striking, its interior is beyond description. A number of men were at prayer while a small group chatted in a window near the pulpit. I peeked into the women’s area, a totally separate room with windows overlooking the Bosphorus. Far less than what male worshippers enjoyed, but sweet in its own way. I have a hard time with that, though; it strikes me as unfair.

Ortaköy Mosque, interior

The women’s room—Ortaköy Mosque

A little girl named Selin walked Libby around the shopping area on her leash, totally enamored with her. Such fun for both! Finally we headed home—on the bus, then succumbed to a well-deserved nap.

That was just the START of our day. We dined and danced in Taksim, catching the last bus home at 2 A.M. It was packed (of course), so we stood all the way home, then climbed the long Robert College hill yet again.

But you know what? It was a great day.

Istanbul ROCKS!