Istanbul – Bosphorus, Bazaars and Belly-Dancing (Days Three and Four)

The next two days (the last two) involved me spending my time exploring Istanbul herself and immersing myself in the Turkish culture that pervades the streets. It was also a time when I finally got to properly relax and unwind. Before that, just another observation: a good number of the Turkish people can speak a good variety of languages (from English to Italian to Japanese), making communication so easy. That’s one thing they definitely got right. Anyway, in brief, this is what I did on both days:

Day 3: Bosphorus cruise, Pierre Loti Hill, Dolmabahçe Palace, Çamlıca Hill and a night show
Day 4: Galata Bridge, Spice Bazaar, Grand Bazaar and a Hamam

As you can probably tell, day 3 sounds suspiciously like an organised tour. No doubts about that. It was a full day tour (I get to choose) that was thrown in as one of the freebies in my hotel package. Absolutely fantastic. But as all tours have it, I re-emphasise, there was the visit to an outlet again and to make things worse, it was a leather boutique again. The anguish! Anyhow, both the Pierre Loti Hill and Çamlıca Hill were basically just cafes with a great view of different parts of the city (Pierre Loti on the European side while Çamlıca on the Asian side). They were pleasant and good for photos but really nothing to shout about.

The real things to shout about are the cruise on the Bosphorus and the Dolmabahçe Palace. In the case of the Bosphorus cruise, it’s more like screaming about from the strong winds that ceaselessly cuts through your very bones. Other than that, it was a pleasant 2-hour ride down the Golden Horn and Bosphorus where the significant buildings that punctuate the banks of the river were introduced and explained by the guide on-board. The only remarkable thing (taking into consideration that I had already grown immune to being fascinated by religious structures) is this artificial island constructed smack in the middle of the Bosphorus that serves as a nightclub, complete with swimming pool, restaurant and dance floor. But why a nightclub? If you think about it, if people are drunk and it gets really crowded on the dance floor, people may just get silly ideas and start falling off into the river. Nonetheless, it is still quite a cool idea but they had better employ a lifeguard or something.

Now, the Dolmabahçe Palace is on a whole different plane of awesomeness. All I can say is it is nothing like the Topkapi Palace and it is probably comparable to the Palace of Versailles (excluding the garden, which is unparalleled) with its luxurious interior and fantastic location just next to the Bosphorus. Too bad no photos were allowed in the palace itself. I didn’t really expect to see such heavy European influence on Ottoman architecture and this palace defies all my preconceptions. This was home to the Sultans from 1856 up until the abolition of the Caliphate in 1924. Subsequently, the ownership of the palace was transferred to the national heritage of the Turkish Republic. Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, its founder and first president, used the palace as a presidential residence during the summers and he died here in 1938. There are so many impressive rooms (not to mention entirely gilded in gold) within the palace with all their posh-looking furniture and even the radiators have gold designed into them. But by far, the Ceremonial Hall of the palace wins all others hands-down. I felt as if I was in the Ayasofya Museum, attempting to judge the height of the ceiling once again. There were galleries (at least 2 stories above) where officials and guests could watch the ceremonial procession in the hall and to give you an idea of how big the hall is, let’s just say that Cirque du Soleil could perform one of its shows comfortably in it (with trapeze and all). That is, of course, after you removed both the massive 5-ton chandelier that hangs in the middle of the hall and the gargantuan carpet (allegedly took 5 years to weave) you could probably fit a small house on. In essence, saying that I was amazed by the Dolmabahçe Palace would be the understatement of the year.

That night, I went for a dinner and night-show at this place called the Sultana’s. At first I was quite apprehensive because I didn’t really fancy having dinner myself but as things turn out, I ended up in the good company of a lady from Hong Kong (also travelling alone) and two Japanese lads who were in Turkey for an English debate competition. It was the first night that I truly enjoyed myself. Fantastic. The food at the place was quite good actually, with Turkish meze and lamb kebabs. And for the pure sake of curiosity, I also tried Turkish raki, an alcohol that I have no idea of whatsoever. Turned out to be non-sweet and anise-flavoured. Ouch. Talk about killing the cat. Anyway, dinner was late (started at 9:00 pm) but the show made the wait worthwhile. There were many segments to the show, all of them interesting but the highlight was the belly-dancing. I never knew it could be so captivating and entertaining. It’s just probably due to the fact that I’m a hot-blooded young male travelling alone in a foreign land but I would prefer to think of it as cultural interest. As if. Too bad there were no whirling dervishes in action though since that would have been as exciting as the belly-dancers (in this case, 100% cultural interest). After being enthralled for the better of 2 hours, the show finally ended and we were ushered dreamy-eyed out of the restaurant and onto the mini-buses that were bound for home. I dreamt of belly-dancers that night. Just kidding.

I spent the last day visiting the bazaars, getting souvenirs and taking a Hamam. In other words, chilling the day away, which was a nice change in pace. And one last observation: I noticed a total of 6 separate Starbucks outlets in Istanbul throughout my stay and the thing is, I only visited a few districts, which means that there are probably more out there. Oh, and there happens to be a Carrefour here too. Istanbul is definitely a good place to be for both tourists and residents alike.

I was heading for the Spice Bazaar in the morning but I ended up walking along the Galata Bridge (spans the Golden Horn) which was just a short walk away. It was quite interesting to see so many people, with their rods in hand, just leaning against the railing, waiting for the fish to take their bait. And I’m not talking about just a handful of fishermen but an almost entire bridge-span (500m maybe) and on both sides of the bridge as well. It was like a national pastime or something. Anyhow, I then went to the Spice Bazaar which I felt paled in comparison to the Grand Bazaar, although the mounds of different spices were quite a sight to behold. Not forgetting to mention that a walk down one of its passages left me with a degree of olfactory trauma. I tried to navigate my way from the Spice Bazaar to the Grand Bazaar without a map (I don’t like to seem to touristy) and ended up in small alleyways packed with a multitude of shops. It was an interesting stroll I must say (with some heart-pounding as well) but with my keen sense of direction, I managed to find one of the many entrances to the Grand Bazaar (Gate 18 apparently). Albeit with a certain measure of chance involved. The Grand Bazaar itself is a sheltered maze of shops that is best described as souvenir paradise or maybe a tourist rip-off, depending on how you look at it. The key is to bargain and probably the best times to go are when the stalls just open or when they are about to close. Anyhow, I got lost within the bazaar quite a number of times, always ending up in a vaguely familiar place. And when I finally managed to find my way out, I somehow had a few new plastic bags in my hands. I tell you, they made the place so confusing so that you would end up buying more stuff.

I ended my exploration of the city with a Hamam, the local term for a Turkish bath. The best way to describe it is as a steam bath, body scrub and massage all rolled into a single session. It was deeply relaxing if you could ignore the other Hamam goers and staff, all in close proximity. There’s a canned tuna quality to the amount of space available and how everyone was packed within that space. If you were not careful, you might see things you never intended to see. I will not elaborate but my only advice is keep your eyes on the ceiling or on yourself. Practicalities aside, I have never felt so exfoliated in my entire life. Come to think of it, the last time someone bathed for me was probably when I was a baby. What luxury! I stepped out a clean and happy man. A perfect end to a fantastic holiday.