This blog is sponsored by:
SleepingInAirports.com
“SleepingInAirports.com. A Guide to Cheap Lodging for Cheap
People.”
Thank you, Sleepinginairports.com. You helped us choose our
airport well. It really wasn’t too bad, in the Swiss sector of Basel-Mulhouse
airport. The restaurant terrace we described before was almost completely
abandoned, and we really had a nice campsite going on. The only hiccup in the
night came right before bedtime, when I convinced Alex that our comfort was
more important than the embarrassment that would come from dragging a second
bench from around the corner and making a “Queen size.” So I walk around to
where the second bench *was,* and much to my dismay another couple had swiped it. They built themselves a fancy
double-wide bench, and flaunted it as they stretched out across them. I was
jealous, I will admit it, but more than that I was angry because I had been
bested. Bested by a pair of sneaky, arriving-later-than-us punks that knew they
should go up the other escalator as to not rouse suspicion from our camp when
they stole my second bench. So, Alex
and I flipped and flopped throughout the night, making the best of our single
bench… Occasionally I would awake with a numb foot or hand, which wouldn’t be a
problem except it made me want to flip off the other couple, and seeing how my
hand was numb that would be impossible. Quite the paradox.
Anyhow, we woke up around five and moseyed downstairs into
the “living room,” aka the EasyJet check-in counter. We were numbers two and
three on the flight, which meant that when our boarding was called, we got to
push through all of the “B” people, who were clogging the exit (intentionally,
I presumed). The flight was quick and included another bird’s eye view of an
endless chain of snowy mountains.
As we de-boarded, we could already feel the difference from Europe. Mainly because we had to buy visas just to get
out of the airport. Our hosts were so very gracious enough to pick us up from
the airport, perhaps sensing our tendency to get ourselves completely lost on
public transportation.
After recuperating for an hour or so, one of our hosts,
Hande (a native Istanbul-ite), took us down to the river, and to Alex’s
absolute delight, to a Starbucks. It was definitely a trip highlight for her when
we entered and she saw the winter-only seasonal red cups that she loves so much.
The next day, Hande took us back down to the river, and this
time across it and into the heart of the “European side” of Istanbul,
known as the “old city” (check this out; Istanbul
is actually on TWO CONTINENTS! The river separates the European side from the
Asian side. It makes Basel-Mulhouse airport, which is in three countries, way less impressive). The European side
is where most of the “tourist stuff” is located, including the Blue Mosque, Aya
Sofya (that’s the American, aka easy spelling), and the Grand Bazaar. We didn’t
go to any of the museum-ish stuff, but instead took in the sights. We did go to the Grand Bazaar, which was
grand and bizarre. More on that in a minute. As you look out over the city, the
minarets (the mosques’ equivalent of steeples, perhaps) stick up into the air
like tall, skinny towers. They really are cool, but the most impressive part of
them is realized in the morning, noon, mid-day, and evening (or something to
that effect). That is when the calls to prayer are made. Men sing (something
non-English) over the loudspeakers attached to the minarets. Every mosque in Istanbul emits their own
song, and the entire city echoes with the sounds for several minutes. It’s really
different and new to us, which we like a lot.
Speaking of different and new, one the most unique parts
about being in Istanbul
has to be the transportation. As I mentioned, we traversed the Bosphorus River to get from the Asian side where
we were staying to the European side. The way you cross is by catching a
three-story ferry boat that costs only 1.30 lira (a little more than one
dollar), and takes about twenty-five minutes. It really is a fantastic way to
get to the other side of the city, and as our host Collette mentioned, has to
be one of the coolest ways to commute to work (assuming you are not running
late…). Even cooler, as you float across the Bosphorus, men walk around the
ferry selling Simits (sesame-seed-covered bagel-esque bread) with fresh orange
juice, and others sell glasses of a very popular hot tea with a couple cubes of
sugar. Everyone sips on their tea as they cross the river, and it creates such
a calming atmosphere. The other completely novel form of transportation we have
encountered is the dolmuş. That “S with a squiggle,” as I call it, makes the
“sh” sound, so it’s pronounced “dole-moosh.” Dolmuses are taxi-yellow vans that
hold 7 people and cost the same as a bus. They drive (as quickly and crazily as
everyone else here) from one point to another, which is designated by plastic
placards hanging on the windshield. Whenever you see one, you just throw up a
hand designating the number of seats you need, and if the driver has that many
available he pulls over, hits a button which automatically opens the sliding
door, and you hop in. The payment system is somewhat primitive, as the people
in the back just pass their money forward via passengers in the middle seat.
They hand the driver the money and, while swerving and honking, he makes the
change and passes it back. We quickly learned not to sit in the middle row, as
Turkish sentences are usually passed along with the payments.
By the way, Turkish is by far the most non-English language
we have encountered yet. There is no trace of English, Spanish, Italian, Latin,
Martian… it’s completely different. Luckily for us, Hande actually teaches
Turkish, and could not help but make flash cards and cheat sheets for us, which
have key phrases and the 0-10, as well as loan us a (kids) game she uses to
acquaint foreigners with the language. We have sort of figured out the
pronunciation, and know a few words (bir = one, iki = two, lutfen = please,
tershekurler (sp) = thanks, and, of course, odekler = ducks).
As I mentioned, we walked through the Grand Bazaar, which is
a Massive tunnel of carpets, tea pots, gold, silver, ceramic pots, socks,
souvenirs, hookahs, Turkish Delight, nuts, rugs, carpets, carpets, rugs, and
counterfeit perfume. It sprawls across a tunnel from the top of a hill down to
the shore, with off-shooting passages connecting more of the same. After
walking through the covered portion, you walk out into the crowded streets,
where there are even more shops. And the shopkeepers do not sit patiently,
waiting for customers, but clamour, squawk, whistle, and shout for your
attention. It was an awe-some experience, to say the least. On Tuesday we went
to another bazaar, this time an outdoor market with canvas canopies, which had
more of the same. It was like what a flea market might be if a hundred of them
were joined together and they sold fresh fruit and vegetables. We bought over 5
kilograms of produce and snaked our way through the bazaar before heading home.
It has been a very new and different experience being in Istanbul, and we really
love it. It is definitely hectic, and the drivers are insane, but it also has a
calm, relaxing feel to it as well. And, most surprisingly of all, we haven’t
been in one single McDonalds.
