A week in Istanbul, after a last-minute switcheroo that left me crying in the Sarajevo train station
How's that for click bait?
It's amazing how long ago-made, concrete plans change in such a short time.
My original plan after trekking through the Western Balkans was to take the train to Istanbul from Belgrade. Using my Eurail pass I purchased before I left in June, I would take a night train to Sofia, spend a few nights there and explore the city, then take another night train to Istanbul, arriving at 8am on Sunday. I would then have a few days in the city before busing out to Buyukcavuslu (trying saying that three times fast, or at all) to start my Workaway experience on the dairy farm.
Typical of me, I had this all planned out in advance. Sometimes typical of me, I waited until the last minute to do something- that would be activating my rail pass. I went on the last day I could activate it, which would give me two months to use the pass (5 days of travel). I figured it would be better to activate it as late as possible, since I did not have a plan to use all five days yet. However, I didn’t realize that the date on my pass was the day after the last day of activation. This I found out in the Sarajevo train station, much to my dismay. This meant my pass was invalid, and I would have to pay for all of my train tickets to Istanbul- and night trains aren’t particularly cheap. After a momentary freakout (okay, I sat down cried in the train station for like 3 minutes and then got kicked out of the cafe seating area because I didn’t buy anything) I looked at my original plan and said, well, fuck it.
I checked out flights to Istanbul using Skyscanner and found a direct flight for $60 on the day I planned to leave for Sofia. I would have to skip the capital of Bulgaria, but would have three extra days in Istanbul- that seemed like a fair trade to me. Sofia would be the only Balkan capital I hadn’t visited, but that just makes it necessary for me to return someday. #balkangoals
Three days later, my plane touched down in Istanbul. My CS host, Selcuk, was kind enough to pick me up at the station, and we drove to his mother’s apartment, where I would stay for the week. Selcuk and his mom live in Icerenkoy, a neighborhood on the Asian side of Istanbul. That night, he took me to a cafe/restaurant with a view of the bay. Selcuk looked kind of incredulous when I told him I was a vegetarian, but he ordered me manamen, a sort of tomato and egg casserole, and we had caj, Turkish tea.
The next day, I was on my own to explore. I figured the first things to check out would be the most touristy, aka the Ayasofia (Hagia Sofia) and Sultanahmet Mosque (The Blue Mosque). Selcuk let me borrow an Istanbulkart- you can’t pay cash on any transportation, much unlike anywhere I’ve been for the last two months. You can add money to the card and use it for any public transportation- bus, metro, and ferry. The Ayasofia and Blue Mosque are on the European side of Istanbul, so I took a bus and a ferry, and then walked the rest of the way. The one-way trip took me about an hour and a half, which is something I would get used to while exploring this massive city.
I forked over 30 lira (about $10) to visit Ayasofia, and took plenty of pictures. Fortunately, the mosque was free.
Sedat recommended I check out Miniaturk, a small park filled with miniatures of historically significant structures in Turkey and other places. I decided to go in the early afternoon on my last full day in the city. It was raining when I arrived, but I still got some lovely pictures.
Later that afternoon, I checked the last item off my bucket list, and visited a hamam- a Turkish bath. I read accounts of foreigners’ visits online- you walk in, strip down, rinse, and someone comes and scrubs all the dead skin off your body before giving you a massage. I was game. My friend Ashley recommended a non-touristic hamam in the Uskudar neighborhood- meaning the prices were low and no one spoke English.
It was still overcast as I took the ferry over to Uskudar. The hamam was a thirty minute walk into the neighborhood, mostly uphill. When I walked in, I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect. I walked into the steamy front room, in which several women were sitting around chatting. A small middle-aged woman came up to me and in limited English told me I could get the basic package for 60 lira, or $20. This was higher than I had read on websites about this hamam, and tried to negotiate, but it didn’t work. Resigned, I made my way to the changing room they gave me, changed into a swimsuit bottom and wrapped a towel around my torso.
The woman guided me to the large circular main room, which had a massive marble table-like thing in the middle, and alcoves extending out around the room. There were three deep sinks built into each alcove. I was given a small plastic basin and a bar of soap, and directed to one of the sinks. “Wash, wash!” the woman said, and left. After rinsing myself off, I sat around for a while. The hamam wasn’t as ornate as those I had seen in pictures on the internet, but it had a certain charm to it. It was warm, at least, and I began to relax as I sat on the marble and waited- for what, I didn’t know. A few minutes later, a large woman came into the room, splashed some water on the giant stone, and gestured for me to lie on it. She took a giant mit and scrubbed me down- I can’t even begin to tell you how much dirt and dead skin came off my body- I can’t remember the last time I spent more than a few minutes in the shower, to conserve hot water more than anything. She told me to rinse, gave me a quick soapy massage, and left me to finish rinsing.
After drying off and changing back into my clothes, I paid and left, all in under an hour. At first, I felt a little underwhelmed, but as I walked back to the ferry, I realized that this is probably the cleanest I’m going to feel for a while, and I was relaxed, so I embraced it.
The next morning, I left Istanbul on a bus bound for Büyükçavuşlu to begin a three week stint on a local dairy farm. More to come about that experience soon! Happy holidays everyone!
It's amazing how long ago-made, concrete plans change in such a short time.
My original plan after trekking through the Western Balkans was to take the train to Istanbul from Belgrade. Using my Eurail pass I purchased before I left in June, I would take a night train to Sofia, spend a few nights there and explore the city, then take another night train to Istanbul, arriving at 8am on Sunday. I would then have a few days in the city before busing out to Buyukcavuslu (trying saying that three times fast, or at all) to start my Workaway experience on the dairy farm.
Typical of me, I had this all planned out in advance. Sometimes typical of me, I waited until the last minute to do something- that would be activating my rail pass. I went on the last day I could activate it, which would give me two months to use the pass (5 days of travel). I figured it would be better to activate it as late as possible, since I did not have a plan to use all five days yet. However, I didn’t realize that the date on my pass was the day after the last day of activation. This I found out in the Sarajevo train station, much to my dismay. This meant my pass was invalid, and I would have to pay for all of my train tickets to Istanbul- and night trains aren’t particularly cheap. After a momentary freakout (okay, I sat down cried in the train station for like 3 minutes and then got kicked out of the cafe seating area because I didn’t buy anything) I looked at my original plan and said, well, fuck it.
I checked out flights to Istanbul using Skyscanner and found a direct flight for $60 on the day I planned to leave for Sofia. I would have to skip the capital of Bulgaria, but would have three extra days in Istanbul- that seemed like a fair trade to me. Sofia would be the only Balkan capital I hadn’t visited, but that just makes it necessary for me to return someday. #balkangoals
Three days later, my plane touched down in Istanbul. My CS host, Selcuk, was kind enough to pick me up at the station, and we drove to his mother’s apartment, where I would stay for the week. Selcuk and his mom live in Icerenkoy, a neighborhood on the Asian side of Istanbul. That night, he took me to a cafe/restaurant with a view of the bay. Selcuk looked kind of incredulous when I told him I was a vegetarian, but he ordered me manamen, a sort of tomato and egg casserole, and we had caj, Turkish tea.
The next day, I was on my own to explore. I figured the first things to check out would be the most touristy, aka the Ayasofia (Hagia Sofia) and Sultanahmet Mosque (The Blue Mosque). Selcuk let me borrow an Istanbulkart- you can’t pay cash on any transportation, much unlike anywhere I’ve been for the last two months. You can add money to the card and use it for any public transportation- bus, metro, and ferry. The Ayasofia and Blue Mosque are on the European side of Istanbul, so I took a bus and a ferry, and then walked the rest of the way. The one-way trip took me about an hour and a half, which is something I would get used to while exploring this massive city.
I forked over 30 lira (about $10) to visit Ayasofia, and took plenty of pictures. Fortunately, the mosque was free.
On Sunday and Monday I spent time exploring the Spice Bazaar and the Grand Bazaar. Both were crazy sensory experiences. Mounds of spices, nuts, and dried fruits, cases filled with lokum (Turkish delight), lamps, towels, ceramics, clothes...and in front of each shop, a man or two calling to you to come try some pistachios, smell the perfume, peruse the scarves. The tenacity with which these men hound you is overwhelming at first. “Hello, come in please!” “Have you tried these?” “Hey pretty lady, how are you?” “Hello! You speak English?” As soon as you pass one shop, someone calls from the next. I learned it’s best to smile and look the other way, or give a brief reply and shuffle along.
At the Grand Bazaar I told myself in advance that I wasn’t there to buy anything, only to look. The Bazaar is a massive maze halls lined with shops, and after 20 minutes of wandering and avoiding salesmen I started to engage with them. I began to ask about their experiences working in the Bazaar and whether they enjoyed their jobs. All of them said yes, but one in particular was very honest when I asked him why. “Well, I love my job, but not because of the business...because of the women.” He told me he meets lots of female tourists during the summer, and usually takes some to clubs in the evening or on a tour of the city. I laughed when he asked for my number, and politely declined.
On Monday night my heart stopped momentarily when Selcuk messaged me to tell me his grandmother had passed away, and that I needed to find a new host that night since they were driving to her town. It was a very unfortunate circumstance. I was on the European side of the city at the time, and it took me almost 2 hours to get to the apartment because traffic was so bad. There, I had about 20 minutes to pack and find a new host. Fortunately, I had about one hundred offers that I had declined previously, so I quickly went through to find some with references and sent them messages. One man, Sedat, replied right away, and said he could meet me at the train station on the European side. I said goodbye to Selcuk, hoisted my backpack onto my shoulders, and proceeded to make my way back across the bay. The ferry closed at 10pm, so I found the metro and took the train back over. I was late to our meeting point, but Sedat was there, and drove me to his apartment, farther west of the city. Overall, the ordeal took over 5 hours, and most of the time was spent in transit- by bus, ferry, metro, and car. What a wild start to the week!
Sedat recommended I check out Miniaturk, a small park filled with miniatures of historically significant structures in Turkey and other places. I decided to go in the early afternoon on my last full day in the city. It was raining when I arrived, but I still got some lovely pictures.
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| A miniature version of the Mostar Bridge in Bosnia |
Later that afternoon, I checked the last item off my bucket list, and visited a hamam- a Turkish bath. I read accounts of foreigners’ visits online- you walk in, strip down, rinse, and someone comes and scrubs all the dead skin off your body before giving you a massage. I was game. My friend Ashley recommended a non-touristic hamam in the Uskudar neighborhood- meaning the prices were low and no one spoke English.
It was still overcast as I took the ferry over to Uskudar. The hamam was a thirty minute walk into the neighborhood, mostly uphill. When I walked in, I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect. I walked into the steamy front room, in which several women were sitting around chatting. A small middle-aged woman came up to me and in limited English told me I could get the basic package for 60 lira, or $20. This was higher than I had read on websites about this hamam, and tried to negotiate, but it didn’t work. Resigned, I made my way to the changing room they gave me, changed into a swimsuit bottom and wrapped a towel around my torso.
The woman guided me to the large circular main room, which had a massive marble table-like thing in the middle, and alcoves extending out around the room. There were three deep sinks built into each alcove. I was given a small plastic basin and a bar of soap, and directed to one of the sinks. “Wash, wash!” the woman said, and left. After rinsing myself off, I sat around for a while. The hamam wasn’t as ornate as those I had seen in pictures on the internet, but it had a certain charm to it. It was warm, at least, and I began to relax as I sat on the marble and waited- for what, I didn’t know. A few minutes later, a large woman came into the room, splashed some water on the giant stone, and gestured for me to lie on it. She took a giant mit and scrubbed me down- I can’t even begin to tell you how much dirt and dead skin came off my body- I can’t remember the last time I spent more than a few minutes in the shower, to conserve hot water more than anything. She told me to rinse, gave me a quick soapy massage, and left me to finish rinsing.
After drying off and changing back into my clothes, I paid and left, all in under an hour. At first, I felt a little underwhelmed, but as I walked back to the ferry, I realized that this is probably the cleanest I’m going to feel for a while, and I was relaxed, so I embraced it.
The next morning, I left Istanbul on a bus bound for Büyükçavuşlu to begin a three week stint on a local dairy farm. More to come about that experience soon! Happy holidays everyone!
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