Istanbul.
The legendary transcontinental city, split in two by the Bosphorus strait, appeared to me in dreams as one of the destinations I ought to see. It wasn't until I got a copy of Nobel Prize Laureate Orhan Pamuk's 'Istanbul: memories and the city', that I could finally put in words my desire to see the elegant minarets of the mosques rivaling the sun in magnificence and stroll through the melancholic crowded streets of the capital of the Ottoman empire.

On a cold tuesday morning I departed with my brother from Wurzburg, carrying nothing but my luggage and a piece of paper where I had written down all the pages of Pamuk's book with phrases I wanted to remember. Too bad that I left the book at home, but that was the last thought on my mind.

The two-hour-long train ride to Frankfurt was amusing: the wonderful landscape of Franconia relaxed  me to the point that I was able to forget about everything. My mind was a blank canvas, waiting for Istanbul to paint it with its colours.

Sitting at the gate, I thought about that 'clash of civilizations' debate that seems to put people on one of either two sides: the West and the East.

At that very moment, I was looking at the machine that would take me to Istanbul. And I thought to myself: "None of that is important now. What's truly important is what I'm about to see and experience". I boarded that plane with a huge smile on my face, so big and permament that my teeth began to hurt. I felt the rush that you feel when you're about to jump off the highest and most dangerous trampoline of the pool you usually go to, but that you always avoid because you're afraid.

That was my state of mind: fearless and with huge feelings of love towards a city I had never visited before. There are places where your heart and soul have been to, even before you physically get there.

The hostel where we stayed was located in Cihangir, a neighbourhood in Beyoglu, on the European side of Istanbul. This was the first picture I took from Cihangir and also the view I had every morning when I walked to Taksim square.

There's such an incredible connection between people and cats in Istanbul. Every morning, the hostel's staff would let the door open and 2 to 3 cats would come in, taking part in daily life scenes.

There's one image that you'll see everywhere, not only Istanbul, but in the whole country.It's the image of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of the turkish Republic.

Upon our arrival at the Ataturk airport, we had to stand a long line until we got our passports stamped with the "Giriş" (entrance) mark. On our way to the hostel, I started a conversation with Kutsi, the taxi driver. He spoke almost no english and my turkish was pretty limited, since I had only learned a couple of phrases and words from a little booklet I bought. 

Nevertheless, Kutsi and I were able to communicate, and as we were driving through town, I felt that rush again: we drove past the Yeni Parki's huge green area bordering the Bosphorus, we saw the  Bizantine city walls and the Valens aqueduct, which was the major water-providing system of Constantinople, and when I thought it couldn't get any better, I started to see the silver-coloured domes of Istanbul's Ottoman-style mosques shine like diamonds with the evening light. 

In order to get to our destination on the European side, we drove through Pera, which is the old name used for Beyoglu. We went uphill this time; you should also know that Istanbul was built on seven hills, a fact which I will explain more elaborately on my next posts. 

Kutsi stopped at a red light and a bunch of barefoot kids immediately knocked on the car windows. Their faces and hands were covered in dirt. 

"From Syria", I heard Kutsi's repply to my question as to where did all these kids come from.Out of the corner of my eye I could see them walk away and get lost between the lines of cars, without looking back. 

Probably what called my attention the most about Pamuk's book, was that he talked constantly about a city that was in decay, a city who's grandeur was lost when it struggled to shape a new identity, based in a mixture of their own culture and western ideals.

Back to the moment when I fell in love with Istanbul: during our first hours in the city, we took a walk through the streets of Cihangir, our home in Istanbul. I was able to perceive the Bosphorus from so many angles and perspectives that day.

Hungry and tired, we decided to take a walk. We placed the luggage inside our room on the second floor of the Levanten Hostel, located in the Cihangir (pronounced Geehangish) neighbourhood, a couple of minutes walk from Taksim square, the epicenter of all the city's protests.

As funny as it sounds, I really enjoyed the fact that the entrance door to our room was blocked by a huge sofa. We have absolutely no idea why they placed it there, but I surely did laugh about it.

We ended up eating dinner at a small restaurant somewhere in Cihangir. We walked inside the place and the few men sitting there sipping on their tea raised their sights. Immediately, one of them told us to sit down and took our order.

For my first meal in the city, I ate a Lahmacun, also called turkish pizza. I stood up and watched my new friend Ramazan prepare our food. Just looking at the whole process from scratch was fantastic, and the food was great, too. All the colors and new flavors were popping in my mouth.

By the time we were done, we were offered tea to finish our meal. I was starting to see the kindness of the people. We felt so welcomed, and that's a feeling that not every traveler gets to experience.

Where we ate dinner on our first day in Istanbul.

Ramazan prepares my Lahmacun.

Lahmacun in the making.

We drank Ayran, which is a kind of yogurt beverage mixed with salt. It's so refreshing, but it takes a moment to get used to the taste.

I  never take pictures of the food I eat, but this time I made an exception. I just couldn't help it.

Before we headed to the hostel for a night of rest, we stopped at a tiny grocery store to buy water. This is how it looks like inside one grocery store in Cihangir:

Istanblue, great name for marketing water.

I took this picture from our 'survival kit' with my phone. We actually only needed water, shampoo and soap (which lasted the entire trip, I'm not joking here), and biskrem cookies, which were my favorite turkish sweet treats. I couldn't eat enough of them.

The single last impression during my first hours in the city was a conversation I had with the hostel owner, Altug. I asked him about subway and bus lines and anything he could tell me about his city. He could notice I was eager to explore Istanbul.

He sat down at a table with me and explained everything I needed to know. Then he added: "I can see you did a little research before coming here. I'm sure you'll enjoy your time in Istanbul". Those words were all I wanted to hear.

Lying on my bed, I could see the curtains filtering the light that was coming from outside. For a minute, I thought about all the world that was out there waiting to be discovered. Then, the sound of steps coming and going up and down the street and the flickering of the street lamps brought me to a deep sleep.

I was to dream about the city for one last night. In a few hours, I was to feel every aspect of Istanbul and the thought of that made me immensely happy.

Beyoglu: a minaret stands next to a hotel.

Prepare yourself to be taken on an adventure that knows no limits nor hemispheres.
My trip to Turkey was in fact, a journey to the heart of the intricate world of beauty and spirituality. Prepare yourself to cross the bridge between civilizations.

This is my Istanbul diary, beginning from an austere room on the second floor of an old building in Cihangir.


Have a nice weekend,
Astrid

Follow:
instagram: @spiegeleyetravel
Facebook: SpiegelEye travel blog
Contact: astrid_14893@hotmail.com