My One Impression of Istanbul

Arriving in Turkey at night, our plane hovering low over a city bathed in lights, will always be a treasured memory. Every mosque in Istanbul, from the grand Hagia Sophia to the smallest neighborhood gathering spot, is illuminated at night. Calls to prayer happen after sunset and the lights help people find the right direction to face for laying out their mats. And Istanbul is whole-heartedly a night city. People pepper the parks and outdoor markets until nearly 3 am each night.

When I jumped from the cab into the throng of people swelling in the streets shortly after my arrival. Spicy roasting pits, rose perfumes, and humidity from the Bosporus swirled with the breeze. The city, with maybe a few extra smudges, looked like the pictures I had stared at with anticipation for years.

The strange thing about travel, at least in my opinion, is the views tend to fade in memory. Impressions of people last for years. I hold fast to conversations with people long after I return home. The Turkish people were so warm, hospitable, kind, conversational; and I will remember them with fondness hoping someday soon I can.

I’ve added a few shots below that I took from my days in Istanbul. It would mean a lot to me to hear any questions you have, or if you have been to Turkey how your experience was. There is a spot to drop those in the comment box below.

My visit to Turkey, Istanbul to Pergamon to Ephesus, ended up being very similar to Alice Pendelbury’s:

“As strange as it sounds, I feel deeply attached to these strange foreign places and people, to the troubling solitude of the old city squares and run-down churches, to the narrow passages whose worn stone steps lead up and down the hills. In spite of the melancholy atmosphere, the dust, and the filth, the cafes and restaurants are full of life. Istanbul is a beautiful city, a great city. Its people are generous and welcoming, and I love it for its nostalgia here, its crumbling grandeur.”

Istanbul, Turkey was as mysterious to me the outer reaches of the Milky Way. I had only ever seen glossy spreads in travel magazines. A glittering marriage of Asian and European cultures. It was hard to imagine any of it could be real. Scenes like golden minarets towering above Parisian bistros. Stunning women modeling high-fashion textiles and crystals in their hijabs joining the morning rush to downtown jobs. Billboards in Italian words next to Korean brands with asterisked comments in Turkish. The pictures must have been staged for the expectant traveler like me.

Buy on Amazon

In preparing for two weeks in Turkey and Greece, I set out to find the perfect book. I had two albums picked out, “Harry’s House” and “Are We There Yet?”, to play in the background while I traveled. I’d packed a fresh Moleskin for journaling. Curating a trip is one of the great joys of traveling for me. Thinking of monologues, hearing lyrics, memorizing foreign phrases that lend language to my experience only cements those moments in my memory.

This time around it was hard to find the right book, possibly due to my expectations for the trip. How do you go about finding the perfect novel for reading your way across the Turkish countryside?

But then I found a story about a young woman who travels to find her lover in Turkey. All because a fortune teller predicts that is where she will find him. A vintage romance, laced with humor, to while away the hours on the sailboat. Marc Levy’s book had extra romance points because the book was originally written in French.

So, The Strange Journey of Alice Pendelbury was downloaded to my Kindle and I set off.