Now if ever you want to typecast or stereotype, there is no better city that I have travelled to that strikes a chord like Istanbul. A city divided between 2 continents, but 1 flamboyant character throughout.
The Capital of Turkey, Istanbul, served as a welcome host for a 12 hour layover on the way to visit my sister in Uganda, and a welcome host it was indeed.
Spurred by the fact that one doesn’t need a visa, and rumours of cheap means of entertainment, little stood in the way of making the most of the 12 hours at the destination. If you want a wise way to spend €50, Istanbul perhaps leads the bidding towards €50 well-invested-in-a-day reward.
Even though the day started early at 5 AM, little can match a Turkish coffee; Starbucks style, to get one revving for the day ahead.
The Metro rail and train system, once you get your head around it, works like a charm; and old world chivalry lives on strong, with youngsters standing up to hand over seats on the crowded coaches to elderly or pregnant.
The city panorama from a distance just doesn’t justify the detail once up close. Colours, Marble, Architecture…it’s a indiscernible collection of ancient mixed with derelict, all sprayed and washed down daily to create a particular early morning glide that forces you to pay even closer detail to where and how you walk.
The city scape is a positive assault of the senses. Your eyes are constantly absorbing a kaleidoscope of colours and textures, from markets to stalls. Your sense of smell abused by a population that over 80% smokes, mixed with the smell of meat grilling and spice markets. Your skin is warmed by a humid sunshine and brushed by people constantly. The city never sleeps and engines, hooters, music and languages are assaulting your ears…and your taste…your taste is the sense that can laud over the others. Spices, fruits, turkish coffee, tea’s and sweet treats are all on offer to exceed all taste expectations that may precede the reality.
Back to spending €50 for a day, I do recommend spending a large proportion of it at a Haman, a Turkish Bath. Going to one that is claimed to the in the 1001 things to see before you die, I would agree. Chose your treatment at the bath, and head into a room where you are told to strip completely and wear just a cotton towel. Wearing wooden shoes that create an echoing racket in the marble halls and clacking into the steam room, you sit on a hot marble centre piece to wait your turn. After relaxing for 5 minutes, I had Osman, a short, moustached, hairy and big bellied gentleman say: “welcome, is your turn”. Osman was there to sandpaper, washed down, soaped up and twisted, bent, bones clicked and generally be treated like a rubber band. Overall, well worth the money spent as you do literally feel like rubber afterwards.
A walk through the spice market, gold market, fish market, leather jacket market (brush up on your Russian for some reason) and sweet market are all well worth the mosey about.
The best food is one that is about 4 bucks cheaper than anywhere else, has no clean tables and are full of the locals smoking, drinking tea and stuffing meaty treats into their mouth. Where they eat, you should eat also.
Furthermore, how tough can it be to beat a city, whose image of people is the moustache? From the first boarding, I had a boy in the que before me, no older than 12 with a moustache. The kicker is that, no matter how impressive the 12 year old was with his “mo”, it just couldn’t match his mothers…
This must be Moustache City. “Mo-vember” has nothing on Mo-stanbul.
12 hours in Istanbul…do it.
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