Come along for a journey through Istanbul

1. Istanbul
2. Half asleep exploration
3. Sleepy hostel time
4. Istanbul day 2
   1. Sightseeing
5. Istanbul day 3
6. Flight out of Istanbul

Istanbul

Standing there outside the bus with my bags, time seemed to move differently, as if I were still in a dream. A quick reality check—confirmed by the sight of another bus driving past—proved it was, indeed, not a dream.

Both myself and Matt standing there half asleep now it was time to figure out how to use the public transport to get to the Wabi Sabi Hostel. After some googling it seemed to use the public transport you first had to purchase an Istanbulkart.

• Istanbulkart
  • This card acts as a debit card for public transport—you load money onto it and use it to scan your way onto various modes of transportation.

Knowing we now needed to buy one of these cards, I dragged my bag and sleepwalked over to one of the Metro (underground train) entry points near the bus station. Finding the machines to purchase the card was easy; figuring out how to use them, not so much. Luckily, there was an English setting, which we eventually found. However, trying to insert my card and select the amount to load onto the new Istanbulkart wasn’t working, and the queue behind me was growing ever longer. My frustration was building, and it felt like we were never going to get to the hostel.

Next came the first act of kindness I experienced in Turkey. An older local fella offered to pay for both myself and Matt to get on our first train. After declining his generous offer, he scanned himself through the turnstile and got another Turkish dude behind us to help with loading the card. This was a welcome relief, as I’m sure I looked zombie-eyed by then.

Cards now secure, I packed myself into the train like a sardine, with one bag by my side and another on my back. During the journey, I felt very much like a zoo animal, turning my head to catch people staring at me without even blinking or looking away. One old man was particularly intense, staring at me while beginning to cry and mutter to himself. I’m hoping it wasn’t because of me (I can’t be that scary-looking, can I?). Anyway, fast forward to leaving that train, my eyes still dry, and hopping on another, we finally arrived at Taksim Square.

As the escalator spat me out into the middle of the Taskim square it seemed relatively quiet for around 10am which was great for tired eyes. being greeted by the images above was a great start for the Istanbul adventure as the city seemed to appear crisp and clean on face value with some beautiful mosques scattered around the place.

After weaving in and out of the streets, Wabi Sabi Hostel was in sight. Check-in was a breeze, and we dumped our bags in the luggage storage since the dorm room wouldn’t be ready until around 2 pm. Luckily, the common area was available for us to use. This was a fancy space as far as common areas go; up here, you got a pretty decent view and access to a rooftop terrace and bar area. Sitting up here in the sun, I would be best described as a robot effectively sleeping with my eyes open, so to speak, as people came and left, some trying to engage in conversation to which my brain went into autopilot and spoke on behalf of Jordan. After chilling here for a while, a quick explore of the surrounding area and some lunch were in order before we could go to our room.

Half asleep exploration

Navigating the streets of Turkey often feels like tiptoeing around human landmines. Every 10 meters, you encounter 2-3 people initiating conversations with “hello, my friend” and followed up with “for you, special price.” As I made my way towards Taksim Square, a cologne seller singled me out with these usual lines. Politely declining, I continued walking, unaware that this encounter was just the beginning of this cologne saga.

After exploring the beauty of Taksim Square, our appetites led us to a nearby eatery that caught our eye. Despite its promising appearance, the food turned out to be disappointingly average, setting a low bar for our Turkish culinary experiences. Even a cheeky Dunedin Turkish meal surpassed this one, hands down.

Disappointed by the lacklustre meal, and being disappointed by the baklava, I found myself craving Baklava even more. As we strolled through the streets, the persistent cologne seller approached once again, offering black market Versace cologne at a supposedly “very good price.” I was so impressed I couldn’t resist making a joke by saying it wasn’t cheap enough. To my surprise this prompted him to offer an even lower price. Politely declining, I assured him I smelled good enough already (a fib) and continued on our way. Suddenly, the ice cream vendor called out to us, tempting us with his treats. Knowing the playful antics of Turkish ice cream sellers (if you’ve seen the videos you know, if not, please see me get royally bamboozled below.), we hesitated but couldn’t resist. As expected, it was both a delightful treat and a comical show The ice cream (Pistachio) I must say was very enjoyable although expensive for what you got. While my experience was enjoyable, poor Matt ended up with a finger in his mouth, making me wonder if I look like a biter.

As we devoured our ice cream, Beşiktaş Park suddenly appeared out of nowhere. From the outside, it seemed a bit scruffy for a professional football stadium, but a peek from the road revealed a slightly better view. Beşiktaş is the football team representing the European side of Istanbul, with Fenerbahçe, their rivals, located on the Asian side, separated by the Bosphorus (body of water).

Past the stadium, I managed to spot an intriguing police car. It wasn’t just any car; it had people taking pictures and staring. This car was a fancy-pants, sporty-looking vehicle. My guess is it’s used to chase down other sports cars that can outrun regular police cars.

This was also parked outside Dolmabahce Palace, situated down by the water’s edge. Around the palace were people left, right, and centre. To even view the palace at the main gate, you still had to go through security. On the other side, you could then get up close to it, but if you wanted to enter, it was going to cost 1050 TL or about $50 NZD. The funny part was on the same board of the 1050 TL was a non-tourist price of around 50 TL, so do the math on that one. After seeing this, entering the palace was less appealing. So, since we were on a budget and also half asleep, a couple of pictures from the outside sufficed.

Now even more tired, the trek back to the hostel began. Remember how I mentioned Mr. cologne man earlier? Well, just as we went past the stadium again, he emerged. As soon as I saw him and he saw me, we both laughed as he said, “No, no, I’m not selling anymore, I’m on my way home.” So, I thought I’d test this theory and replied with, “Oh, darn, I was gonna get some this time.” After some more jokes about following each other, we parted ways. How we saw him here is wild considering the size of Istanbul and how far we were from where we first saw him. Crazy stuff. Or was it fate, and I missed my cologne chance, or Stalker stuff? His house did look interesting through the windows at night, to be fair.

Sleepy hostel time

Arriving back at the hostel feeling more drained than a freshly emptied sink, we moved our bags into our room, which was a neat and tidy-looking place, I must say. Again, the chances of meeting interesting people in a big place are high, as our two other roommates were a Kiwi bloke and his partner. It was good to hear a familiar accent again. After some yarns, the tummy was grumbling, and they recommended a place just around the corner. This was make or break; if it was bad, then I would never trust them again. But this dinner place slapped, I mean, cook me some eggs, slapped. This was the first proper, delicious Turkish meal with exceptional service and a great price. The name of this holy place, if you are ever casually in Istanbul near the Taksim area, is Kebapçi Celal, a small little place with food that punches above its size.

This night concluded with meeting some more people up in the common area, including two blokes from Balkan Soul Hostel in Belgrade, Serbia. Again, what are the chances? One of them was the guy who was involved in the arm wrestle back in Belgrade. On a funnier note, a fella from Liverpool was in Istanbul specifically to watch the world championships of arm wrestling. This same guy also loves a bit of hitchhiking and was planning to hitchhike from Liverpool to New Delhi in the near future. Anyway, by this point, my brain was really lagging behind; as I closed my eyes, all I could hear was “my friend, for you good price” – a new sleep paralysis demon.

Istanbul day 2

Getting through the night without my sleep being interrupted by someone trying to sell me something was a great start to the day. After chomping down the free breakfast from the hostel, next on the agenda was to get some washing done, being the domesticated people we are.

This morning, I was really craving a cheeky Turkish coffee because when you hear rumors about a mystical coffee, you’ve gotta try it. My review of this particular Turkish coffee would be as follows:

• Sweet tasting coffee
• Almost tastes mochaccino (maybe I’m weird)
• Thicker liquid then your regular coffee
• The bottom of the cup is a sandpit of coffee grinds
• 7/10 (higher because a good thing to try)

During this time, Matt had the idea to get a haircut because, why not? Some videos of people getting haircuts in Turkey seemed funny with their heads getting slapped and hair singed off their ears. So, back to the hostel we went to ask the guy at the desk where he would recommend, and he sent us to a place just around the corner.

If you’re particular about your hair and need to communicate exactly what you want, this next part might scare you. Upon entry, the two barbers couldn’t speak a lick of English, so we used Google Translate to communicate. They also had no idea New Zealand existed, so I guess to them, we were made-up humans?

Naturally, I just said to the barber, “Do what you want.” Off he went, snipping and buzzing away. It was one of the longer haircuts I’ve had, with precision showing during each cut. For me, there was nothing too out of the ordinary besides the time it took and the way he cut it, with an added bonus of him checking up my nose at the end. Matt, however, copped some lighter-to-ear action, which was a weird thing to see.

Despite the lack of communication, you could tell these blokes were great people, thanking us very much and joking around. Whenever we passed by their barbershop, they would wave through the window.

Sightseeing

Jumping on the bus to the Hagia Sophia Mosque should’ve been straightforward as we headed off in the right direction. Then, midway through, the bus decided to spice things up by heading the wrong way. So, off we got and walked to find a tram, which took us the rest of the way.

Side note: These bus drivers are savages; they’ll close the doors on you as you’re getting on or leave you behind if people getting on take too long, regardless of age.

Looking up at the Hagia Sophia Mosque was intriguing, but I’ll be honest, the Blue Mosque just a couple of hundred meters away (if that) looked far more beautiful. Entering the courtyard of the Blue Mosque, we couldn’t go any further due to prayer time. However, this in itself was a captivating experience, allowing you to soak in the beauty of the place. (first 3 images below in slideshow is Hagia Sophia Mosque, then rest are blue mosque)

Legs in gear, we made our way next to the Basilica Cistern, located under the streets of Istanbul. On the way there, a guy noticed us looking at Google Maps and stopped to give us directions, telling us to follow him as his family’s carpet shop was next to it. For once, there was no real alternative motive here, as he led us the whole way and bid farewell as we headed down under the streets. This place makes for some amazing photos, and with some history about the place scattered about, it offers a good combination of photos and learning along the way. The Basilica Cistern was used to supply and distribute water to the city for hundreds of years until the city grew too large. The fact that something as old and magnificent as this is still standing under busy Istanbul streets alone is impressive. If you are ever in Istanbul, this is something I highly recommend you see.

Have you heard of the Grand Bazaar? It’s one of the world’s oldest and biggest covered markets, boasting over 4000 shops. This place is a blast, with a myriad of stores offering something for everyone. Strolling through narrow pathways teeming with people and browsing the array of items can be a bit overwhelming, especially when it’s pouring rain outside. Nonetheless, the shelter is a blessing during such weather. When it comes to shopping here, haggling is the name of the game. You’ve got to be ready to wrestle those prices down, even if it means engaging in some verbal sparring with the shop owners. One tactic that worked wonders for me was the classic “walk away” move—if they won’t budge on price, just start walking and they usually come back with a better offer.

Another good game to play is when they say a smart ass starting price like $1000 for the football shirt you drop a line like “too cheap what about $10,000?” The reverse reaction really gets in their head and you can comfortably talk them down as they remain confused by what just came out of your mouth.

Exiting the Bazaar after some exploration, we were relieved to find the rain had stopped, making for a dry walk to the train station. However, our respite from sales pitches was short-lived, as barely two steps outside, a vendor was already pitching us something at a “special price.” Refusing his offer, we continued walking until he hit us with a surprising line: “Why are you here if not to buy then? Are you a tourist or terrorist?” Now, most people would hastily deny the latter and possibly even make a panicked purchase just to prove their tourist status. But I’m not your average person. So, I replied with a deadpan, “Terrorist, of course.” This caught him off guard, and after a moment of stunned silence, he burst out laughing and bid us a good evening as we walked away.

Not much excitement unfolded for the remainder of the day as my head eventually met the pillow after a relaxed evening.

Istanbul day 3

My dream world fell apart as I heard a loud vibrating coming from near my head. I checked my phone and no, it wasn’t my alarm it was far too early for that. I closed my eyes again. Still it continued, getting paranoid it was something of mine, I unlocked the locker and looked through my bag and still nothing. I lay back down and tired to ignore it. 10 minutes later it was still going. It was after another 10 that it stopped as the person above me began to stir. Of course, his alarm, how he had slept through that for so long I will never know but my sanity at least remained semi intact.

With our flight to Nevşehir (Cappadocia) not until early evening, we checked out of the hostel and left our bags in luggage storage. Since it had been raining most of the morning and our escape room booking fell through, we decided to walk to the wax museum. The bustling Taksim street was a better experience with fewer people offering special prices. The rain held off, allowing us to indulge in some window shopping and explore random shops to pass the time. Eventually, we reached the wax museum, but the price was higher than what we had seen online, so we decided to skip it. Before leaving, Arda Turan, a former Barcelona player, slapped me in the lobby of the wax museum, leaving me puzzled as to what I had said to provoke him.

Now, having stupidly placed a lot of faith in the weather holding up during our adventure, it turned out to be a mistake. Armed with just two arms and a sweatshirt, we were ill-prepared when the rain started pouring down. Seeking cover, we darted into a nearby covered market area to wait out the rain. I must say it started off normal, there were rugs, souvenirs, jewellery, Hitler / Nazi memorabilia, cool diamonds and more jewellery shops. Yeah you read that right. For some odd reason in amongst the super normal shops stood a shop with old Nazi coins, watches with Hitler on them and Nazi Jewellery. I mean the whole shop was devoted to this. This made me realise they also must sell a bit of it, considering the shop is still open… so yeah… spiced up waiting for the rain to stop though that’s for sure.

With the rain easing the slightest we made a break for it. Dodging puddles and people with umbrellas staring, the rain got harder.

Becoming wetter than water itself, I ducked into a shoe shop. Dripping wet, I suddenly became very interested in shoes to avoid the rain. The lady there caught on pretty quickly, though, as she followed us through the store, just observing and not saying a word or offering suggestions (fair enough too). With the rain again slightly easing, it was a run straight back to the hostel, which, as luck would have it, the rain stopped just as we got there to rub it in.

After holding my sweatshirt under the dryer to get rid of the worst of the moisture, we trekked out under the somewhat sun. On the hunt for a good deal for lunch, it was successfully attained for a great price, to which I no longer remember, but when the meal came out, right down to my bones, I felt it was a good deal.

Flight out of Istanbul

It came time to finally move off in the direction of the airport. After the first train, in front of me was an escalator, so down it I went followed by another, then another, then another, and another. In total, it was about half a dozen or something along those lines. Halfway through going down these, I had to pinch myself just to make sure I wasn’t in some messed-up dream. This train at the end of all the escalators was the Orient Express (from a movie). No, thank goodness it wasn’t, due to the lack of murders that occurred while I was on board. This train beelined straight for the airport, and so after about an hour, it was time to exit.

The Istanbul airport, I must admit, was a masterpiece as you approach it, with eco-tech style architecture of greenery and glass balanced out by delicately placed domes. This design aims to relax you before the absolute chaos that unfolds inside with people in all directions. Upon arrival, you must pass through a security check before you can properly enter the airport. Then, you drop your bags at the correct bag drop. I say “correct” because the system is odd: despite what it says on your ticket, there are multiple spots where you can drop your bags, but also multiple spots where you cannot.

After this, you can make your way through the next round of security, which is far stricter. As my carry-on went through the scanner, I realised I had forgotten to empty my water bottle. The security officer tipped it out and then asked about a second bottle. I said no repeatedly until they rifled through my bag and pulled out sunscreen. Technically, I wasn’t wrong, but I had completely forgotten it was there and hadn’t used it yet. Unfortunately, that too was tossed out.

After this mild inconvenience a Popeyes appeared and still with some time to kill before the flight and the flight already being delayed a couple times due to bad weather it was a must try. Also not a great burger, so can’t speak for all of Popeyes but Istanbul airport Popeyes is not the best that’s for sure.

Waiting in the line to board the plane I noted a few things about life.

• People are all stupid
• When the loud speaker says “have your passport and boarding pass ready”, it usually means exactly that
• Everyone’s going to the same place with assigned seats so why push in?
• Like the loud speaker says: Have your PASSPORT AND BOARDING PASS READY

Now boarding the plane, my legs were loving life. Luckily, the flight wasn’t too long, which was a relief. Even better was the hot chicken sandwich the airline handed out, which tasted a thousand times better than the Popeyes burger I had eaten. Kudos to Turkish Airlines for that.

The flight was, well, a flight, so not much else to say about that. But the second my feet walked inside the tiny airport, everything was about to change…