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I’ve always wanted to visit Istanbul. Just the sound of her name, with its alluring quality, never fails to caress the very depths of my heart. If she indeed was a woman, my heart would probably stop in its beat under her gaze. Such is the charm of Istanbul. To me anyway.
What I find so fascinating about the city is its cultural richness, its historical importance and its religious undertones. And all because it straddles the Bosphorus, the river that divides Europe and Asia. Istanbul is the Gateway and the flux of people and cultures through her very roads have groomed her to what she is of yesteryears and of today.
Incidentally, the title of this entry is from a book with the same name (by Philip Mansel) and I find it to be suitably appropriate. For those interested, it’s a book about the Ottoman Empire (1453-1924) and Constantinople (present day Istanbul).
Since nobody else was free and I really needed a time-out alone, what better place to go than Istanbul?
And so it begins, the first solo adventure of my lifetime. It is with great excitement and trepidation that I embark on this journey. A journey of self-discovery. Of reflections. And of blah blah blah...
You get my point. To be honest, I’m just trying to cover up the fact that travelling alone for some time can be a tad boring, although, I must admit, it is ultimately still exceedingly interesting.
Enough said. Let us move on with the account proper.
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