Istanbul

“If the Earth were a single state, Istanbul would be its capital.”

- Napoleon Bonaparte

       

   So it was that we ended back in Istanbul for the final couple days of our tour of Turkey.  There is so much to see in Istanbul that it’s overwhelming if you’re the kind of person to get overwhelmed.  Our party began by seeing Topkapi Palace, followed by the Hagia Sophia, followed by the Cistern, followed by the Blue Mosque, followed by the Grand Bizarre, followed by yet another family dinner, followed by what could pass for sleep if questioned by a Navy Seal commanding officer, followed by the Pierre Loti café, followed by the Spice Bizarre, followed by a visit to the top of the Sapphire building.  It was a furious pace for two days.  I was used to it by now. 

            Getting into Topkapi Palace proved to be a tricky thing; it teased us every step along the way.  First, with its unlimited supply of courtyards that we had to tramp through in order to get to the main grounds; second, with how everybody in Turkey and all of

Europe and Asia decided to see the palace the same day that we did.  Hacking through the people gathered in front of the main gate reminded me of doing the same thing when hiking through the jungles of Cambodia and Thailand; though this time there were no monkeys to dodge, only Europeans.  Once we got through, space opened up, but only briefly.  That is to say, we had about five minutes of room around us before we hit the lines that had formed outside of the museums.  Inside the museums were all sorts of odds and ends from Istanbul’s past glory days.  There were gifts from all manner of dignitaries around the world that had been given to various Sultans over the years; from diamonds the size of eagle eggs to turquoise bracelets and pearl necklaces.  The man that would wear such things in public must have been the highest breed of blowhard in the Middle East, and an unattractive blow hard at that.  The jewelry – though magnificent and worth more than 100 times what I could save in a lifetime – was as ugly as a sick elephant.  The tourists of course were gawking at all of the pieces.  They would comment here and there about how beautiful and delicate and charming and extravagant and precious and immaculate they were.  Tourists gawk at anything behind a display case.  I could put my bath towel behind one and claim it was used for washing a king, and they would gawk at it with their mouths dropped to the floor for hours.  Tourists remain as foolish as the day they were invented.

After Topkapi Palace, we visited the Hagia Sophia.  It was a church that was converted to a mosque that was converted to a museum.  It is the most interesting building in the world.  It is the only place I have been where Christian angels share the same roof as Muslim prophets; and where writings from the New Testament and the holy Quran are found together as easily as looking at the walls and ceilings.  It is said to have been the biggest cathedral in the world for hundreds of years, and I believe it, too.  The inside opens up and echoes every sound made a thousand times over; even more so after the mosque’s dome was added, I presume.  Greeks, Romans, Ottomans, Turks; I only wonder who will rent it out next; and whether they will keep it as a museum or change it again.  It took us an hour to see it and then we were out in the streets of Istanbul once more.

            By and by, we walked to a conspicuous place and were told to wait.  After some time, a line started to form and we realized, yet again, that we would be participants in its length.  I was told we were to see an ancient cistern.  I didn’t know what a cistern was, but it sounded uneventful, and if I had ever learned about it in grade school, it was evident now that I did not recall the lesson; chances are I had fallen asleep during it.  Apparently it is just a place that holds water for another place; usually a city.  Well then, no wonder I had fallen asleep.  We waited in the line for a half an hour and then saw what we had waited for.  It was underground, this cistern, and so we had to walk down some stairs to get there; and once we were there, we could not see much on account of the darkness.  The only lights came from the pillars which came straight up and out of the water.  There were boardwalks over the water zigzagging through the underground labyrinth.  We walked on these and took note of how intricate the cistern’s design was, and how much it was relied on during its peak importance.  Generations of Ottoman’s and Turk’s could flush their toilets as freely as they had need to.  They could drink and bathe as much as time would allow, too.  I was much impressed by these things.  The cistern turned out to be one of my favorite destinations on the whole tour of Istanbul.  Had I known what it was beforehand, perhaps I would have missed it altogether, but seeing it up close was a sure reward.

        

    The Blue Mosque was next for us.  Outside in front of the mosque we waited to enter by a particularly colorful arrangement of flowers.  It was one of the five times a day that was reserved for prayer; so, as they prayed, we got lost among the flowers.  That the Blue Mosque is a magnificent building to look at is no secret.  The minarets rise from the four corners like javelins, and the terraced domes roll over one another as if they were a part of the very earth.  It is true that the finest buildings in the world follow the maxim that less is more; and that being unique is better than being big – the Blue Mosque is no exception.  It is a sad thing, then, that the inside of the Blue Mosque is so ordinary and underwhelming.  Sure, walking on carpet in only socks is nice, and the detail of the hand painted blue wall tiles is quite something, but all in all it was an exercise in anti-climatic tourism.  We saw many people still praying and many who were still reading the Holy Quran, which lent to the ambience, but the sense of being lost in a foreign room went away as quickly as the line outside after the call to prayer.  I was left standing in the room not knowing what to do next, and the whole time wanting to go back outside to my flower patch and forget that I had ever entered.  Though I have been to Muslim countries before and seen many mosques, this was the first one I was allowed inside.  Perhaps had the outside architecture not been so beautiful the inside architecture might have done something for me.  I felt almost tricked, like when I found out that Santa Claus was not real, or that Eric Clapton was British.

            At length, we went around the rest of the city mostly shopping.  We shopped on Istiklal Street, at the Grand Bizarre, at the Spice Bizarre, and here and there wherever else interested us.  There is no shortage of shops in Istanbul.  Indeed, there are too many, even.  Every time you turn around there is another place where you can buy clothes, souvenirs, trinkets, odds and ends, and of course – Turkish delights.  Had I been alone, I would have walked by as if I hadn’t noticed their existence, but as I was not alone – and was with several women – we stopped frequently to engage in the mind drudging activity of shopping.  I elect to forget the details of those long hours spent inside the shops, and instead pretend as if I had gone fishing or taken a nap.  It is better this way.  The sooner I forget the sooner I can move on; this is the only way to get over tragedy, at least that’s what I’ve been told.

          Lastly, we went to the Sapphire Building.  We took an elevator to the top, looked around, saw some other buildings, some city streets, some moving cars, and left; thus ended our tour of Turkey.