On my last morning in Istanbul, my host drove me to the metro station, and I rode the packed train to the main bus station. I had instructions from the farm to go to a certain agency, buy my ticket, and once on the bus ask the driver to drop me off at a gas station before their last stop. This I did with little difficulty, and once at the gas station a Turkish volunteer, Serdar, picked me up to take me to the farm. Before I go any further, I’d like to address one of my favorite parts of Turkish culture: tea. After I bought my ticket at the bus station, the man at the counter suggested I go upstairs for a cup of caj (pronounced like chai). Cai is prevalent everywhere in Istanbul: people drink caj at the sidewalk cafes, boys deliver trays of caj to the men manning their booths at the bazaar or the farmers market, and a man hawks caj to ferry passengers as they cross the Bosphorus Bay. There’s really only one type of tea served: strong, black, and usually doctored with several spoons...
twenty-something travels in search of food and adventure