So I’m in Istanbul!
And I’m really, really tired.
Overall it was a good experience. The long leg of the flight was on Lufthansa from Seattle to Frankfurt, and I was lucky to get an aisle seat. It was an hour late, but they made up for it in the air. The shorter leg was on Turkish Airlines from Frankfurt to Istanbul. I had a window seat, but it was remarkably un-cramped. I was very lucky. As with any location that involves international travel, there were little dramas unfolding all around me when I was waiting for both flights—people sprinting to gates, working through logistical problems with long-suffering flight attendants, and one woman who was arguing with a Lufthansa official because her passport had expired. I felt sorry for both of them.
Ataturk Airport was bu-sy. Istanbul is the 8th most popular tourist destination in the world (according to Rick Steves anyway) and there were people from all over the planet waiting to get through customs. The customs officials, all universally young guys in their 20s in Polizei (or some similar spelling) uniforms all looked hot and annoyed. My guy looked particularly aggravated as he watched a man a few people ahead of me struggle to understand what form he needed to go back and fill out before being processed. I could almost hear him thinking, “dude, I’m so sick of other people’s problems….I just wanna go home, crack open a beer and watch some football.” (or play Halo 4, he looked like that kind of guy.) He looked right through me when I handed him my passport and Visa. It’s okay man. I’ve been there.
The arrivals gate was mayhem. I’d arranged for airport pickup with my hotel and they told me to look for a sign with my name on it. There were at least a hundred signs displayed. An airport employee asked me what hotel I was at and he pointed me to the relevant list of signs—my name was there, thank goodness. A 12YOA boy grabbed the sign and told me to follow him. I went out to the front entrance and the boy handed the sign to another man who eventually got me into a private and rather cushy cab.
We passed by a big park and a lot of waterfront. Several people grilling on hibachis, a family pouring tea from a chrome pot, couples canoodling, and *tons* of industrial-sized ships on the water. Istanbul is very much still a port town in a way Seattle just isn’t anymore.
The cab turned into Sultanahmet, the neighborhood that has most of the ancient sites in it, as well as my hotel. Extremely touristy (big shocker) with winding narrow roads. He pulled over at my hotel and I got situated before going up to the rooftop deck, which has gorgeous views of the waterfront and a decent peek at Hagia Sophia.
As the sun set three different mosques (at least it sounded like three) put out a simultaneous call to prayer. Sometimes they sounded like they were harmonizing with each other, other times they sounded like they were in competition. It was pretty amazing.
