To find out what I thought of Istanbul, you can choose either Paragraph A: the simple version, or Paragraph B: the wordy, pretentious version.
Paragraph A: Istanbul is amazing!
Paragraph B: From the water, the city appears to be a crust of concrete and cables but, through this mess, sprout delicate minarets, clustered domes turning white in the snow. Look deeper and you can find bazaars ancient and alive, streets of European grandeur and bohemian intrigue. Beneath the winding messy streets of steaming snack stands, turning doner and cold-huddled crowds, lay sewers and cisterns built by the Byzantines over a thousand years ago. This is a place where one's daily commute might mean taking a ferry to another continent. A place where you can smoke nargile in ancient tea gardens and watch old ladies lower baskets to the street to filled with bread by a local boy. A place where you can eat mezze and fresh fish sandwiches into the night! Okay, I think I'm done.
Crossing the Sea of Marmara, we arrived in the city of Bursa. There too, snow fell in drifts on the surrounding hills and the sprawling bazaar. We stood pilgrim-like in an old caravanserai that once received camel caravans from the east and is still a centre for silk (though now Turkish-made). We took a bus into blizzards, cars and trucks lay crashed in the central reservation, slowly turning white. They're seriously unused to the snow. The news has become a montage of 'hilarious' clips of cars spinning out if control on the ice. True car-crash TV.
Nic at Ephesus (with all her friends) |
The next day we found ourselves on a hillside of brilliant white, barefoot and baffled. We were in Pamukkale where strange mineral deposits have turned a whole hill white with a pummice-like crust. At points hot water bubbled over out feet (you must walk barefoot) and at others they plunged through ice. It was the most wonderfully surreal experience.
A bronzed adonis takes the waters at Pamukkale |
My abiding memory of Pamukkale however, will be lying in a naturally hit pool amongst submerged Roman columns, the steam rising to the amphitheatre above. Okay, so there was a tour bus of German tourists gawping at us from under their 'authentic' Turkish turbans and a nearby cafe thumping out dreadful Euro house, but it was still truly magical.
I'm going to sign off now as I'm sure we're all dropping off. We're now staying with Nic's auntie and uncle in Kas and the sun is a'shining. Hope you're all well.
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