The day started on a sad note. We didn't want to leave Figen's. Together we prepare breakfast and coffee and eat together one last time on her plant-covered balcony overlooking the Bosphorus and what seems like all of Istanbul. There wasn't much talking - just a silent gratitude and appreciation for having walked into each other's lives. We hug and hold back tears, thanking her for being her wonderful self. With a heavy heart, we walk down the street one last time to catch the dolmus to Kadikoy.
Once in Kadikoy we catch a taksi (Turkish spelling) and give the driver Hande & Arda's address. The driver begins the journey up the steep streets into Moda, but we soon realize that he doesn't actually know how to get to their specific address. He stops a few times and asks fellow cab drivers and such. Eventually we make it (though we later learn, I believe Arda informs us, that taksi drivers in Istanbul are notorious for not knowing how to get anywhere - even the LOCALS don't know how to get around, how the heck are we supposed to then? This makes me feel a lot better about naming Turkey as one of THE most difficult countries to travel. EVER.)
Moda is the "artsy" area of Istanbul, where all the creative folk live. Supposedly. It is also on the Asian side of the Bosphorus. It has a couple streets with adorable restaurants and cafes and then most of the rest of Moda is small streets lined with apartment buildings. It would be a lovely place to live. Arda buzzes us into their building and we walk down some winding stairs, which are daring me not to fall, and he opens their door at the bottom. He kindly welcomes us into their inviting home, its walls covered with art of their own and of their friends. We put our things down in the living room, where we will be staying, and then he shows us Hande's sculpture studio and his office along with some of their artwork. These are serious working artists, living, and thriving I might add, off their passions. Jealous.
Christine and I had planned on heading to the Grand Bazaar today, and eating a piece of chocolate cake we had gotten after dinner on our first night at Figen's and hadn't eaten yet. Big plans. Cake plans. So, we awkwardly left soon after arrival for the day's excursion. I had never couchsurfed and Christine had done it only once. It's much different than other lodging. People let you stay for free in their home because they love meeting and spending time with new people. It is probably very odd, perhaps rude, for us to arrive and leave soon after to explore on our own. We do promise, however, to return for dinner.
We walk down along the Bosphorus, a beautiful view, and find a bench to eat our cake. It is delicious, obviously. It is all chocolate. Christine and I talk about how we will have to change our day-to-day plans to ensure that we couchsurf properly and balance our time spent sight-seeing with time spent with Hande & Arda. If for no other reason than as a thank you for a free place to stay.
We continue our walk down to Kadikoy and catch a ferry over to Eminonu. First thing we do is find the Spice Bazaar, by accident. It was one of those moments where you find yourself walking through something not knowing what it is until you are so entrenched in it that you realize you are in fact seeing something that was on your list of things to see. It smelled amazing. I can think of no way to describe it other than that it smells exactly like you think it would. Rich & sweet. Men and boys trying to get you to buy something each time you pass a new booth. Some people hate that experience. I find it fascinating. Perhaps because it is so foreign to me. They are so overtly throwing themselves, or their products, at you that it can't be anything but amusing. We continue through the winding streets toward the Grand Bazaar. We walk for what seems like miles and miles up steep hills with no such luck. The streets are lined with shops, but they're selling ordinary things like jeans and kitchen appliances. We get so tired that we begin to wonder if this is in fact the Grand Bazaar. We march on in denial and hopeful that these are just vendors that the locals buy from for everyday needs and/or are trying to catch those entering and exiting the Bazaar.
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| Street near Eminonu as we begin are trek into Sultanhamet in search of the Grand Bazaar. |
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| Teas in the Spice Bazaar |
The good news is this is not the Grand Bazaar. The bad news is that the Grand Bazaar was a huge disappointment. I think the Medina in Morocco spoiled me. That was so earthy, raw, beautiful, & natural. Everything smelled like leather and the streets were made of dirt. There were no chain stores in the Medina. However, the Grand Bazaar seems to have succumb to commercialization. There are certainly some beautiful shops and works of craftsmanship, but it is also filled with local chains and the dealers are less friendly. The only cool part is that it is in an old building/mosque. Oh, and the prices are astronomical. Again, Morocco ruined it for me. I had been saving to buy all my gifts for people here because I was certain it was where the prices would be the lowest like in Rabat. Not even close. The only thing I purchase here are two lovely, ornate plates as wedding gifts to Sarah and Beth.
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| Grand Bazaar |
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| Grand Bazaar |
It is a maze in the Bazaar to say the least and we get split up once. After we find each other and tire of the disappointment, we exit the Bazaar to find food. What do you know, we find a restaurant with the most delicious lentil soup and bread and the friendliest, most entertaining waiter we could ask for. Well played, Istanbul, well played. You never let us stay down for long. Our sweet waiter is most likely flirting with us, but his intentions are good. He cannot for the life of him figure out where we are from. This is the only place I have been where people don't immediately guess America or Canada. He was guessing Brazil, Austraila...(and many other places that I cannot remember). We also meet two old women who are on a cruise and they stopped in port today in Istanbul. They wish us luck in our travels, as we do them and we leave the restaurant. This is where the day gets good.
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