Reminiscence from Anatolia- Part Six: Meeting Ibn Batuta
Taking a boat from Europe to Asia- from Eminonu to Uskudar- evokes a grand and a common-place feeling, at the same time.
The ride is inexpensive… and a wonderful peep into the commoner’s life in Istanbul- quite like the felucca rides in Cairo. One can find- among his or her fellow travelers- a young couple, a lonely old man, some quarreling friends, a loving mother and her kids- and can identify with each one of them… like I did, with a mother, who was being pestered by his 4 year old kid for a Ben 10 watch.
Apart from relishing the feeling of criss-crossing Europe and Asia… Asia side is avoidable… especially if one was on a one-day visit of Istanbul- like me. The Byzantine and Ottoman empires were largely based in the European part of Istanbul… for some strange reason… it would have been far more practical for the Muslim rulers to have based themselves in Asian side, utilizing the natural defence that Bosphorous provided to them, against the invading Christian Armies… especially when their empire extended eastwards, and not so much, westwards.
After a quick trip to Uskudar on the Asian side, I sailed back to Eminonu to visit landmarks near the Eminonu Ferry Station… a grand mosque called New Mosque… passable… because it is a copy of much grander Blue Mosque… then the Spice Bazaar (which, sadly, was closed for the day) but nevertheless it was juxtaposed to a crowded courtyard, where a huge number of Istanbul locals come to picnic and shop and therefore, this place was a wonderful local experience… a couple of 100 meters away was the Grand Bazaar, and the Sulemaniye Mosque… but by the time I reached the place… it was deserted… somebody told me that due to the great Bairam festival… everything comes to a screeching halt in these areas.
I walked down to the Hippodrome… all along the walk; I kept on stumbling beautiful buildings… Istanbul’s beauty lies in these carefully preserved buildings… it makes your unintended walk appear like a treasure hunt… every other building is a gem… making you wonder about the history of the place…
Sitting on a bench at Hippodrome, I looked around… the dusk has started crawling all around me… in few hours; I had to leave this place to the next destination. I could not help relishing the fact that here I was sitting at a place which once used to hold more than 100000 people for public processions and gatherings. Today little remains of Hippodrome… and yet it is the single most evocative place in this part of the world. It represents the humanity.
I saw a young man beside me drinking a milk-colored drink… I asked- what’s it… Salep… I tried it… it tasted different… I was told that Salep is one of the traditional Turkish medicinal drinks… made from some root tuber… it helps in keeping away cold and cough… little did I know that I would need a lot of Salep in the days to come. (More on it, in one of the musings from the Anatolia)
I checked my wallet… the number of Turkish liras in my wallet was plummeting… Istanbul is expensive. I needed to convert some dollars into Liras, fast. I checked a few Currency stores nearby and realized that they were giving me ridiculously low rates… 1.43 for a dollar, this was steep… at airport, for instance, the banks were giving me 1.49 (of course with a commission cut, which made the rate 1.48)…
I refrained from converting money there… and walked back to Yusuf… my friend and guide in Istanbul… he said that often the Currency dealers in Sultanahmet give a very low rate, and have formed a cartel… and that the actual rate was indeed 1.49… he offered me to convert 100 dollars of mine at that rate… saying that he will get the 100 dollar bill converted somewhere near his house… where more honest currency dealers reside. He then told me to report to him at 8pm for the pick up to bus station… I thanked him again.
In the morning at Sindabad, I came across a dark complexioned man … we, then, had shared smile… in the evening while whiling away my time and waiting for 8 pm, we started chatting… he was from Morocco… and was delighted to know that, after so many days, he was meeting a person who knew a little bit of Arabic… (Moroccan Arabic, is quite different from the Standard Arabic… as in Algerian Arabic, Moroccan Arabic has huge influence of French in it). We chatted for a while… he had been on the road for last 2 months… traveling Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan, Syria and now Turkey… and plans to return in a few days to Morocco. I nicknamed him Ibn Batuta, and we laughed. He took me to a good and cheap kebab joint nearby, where we had a hearty dinner… while leaving I hugged him… and said insha Allah we will meet again one day… he also said the same… there was a kind of bond between us.
I packed my bag… waved a good bye to the Moroccan guy Hashim, the beautiful girl at reception (who, incidentally, was planning to go to Egypt with his boyfriend in few days, and took a lot of inputs about Egypt from me and Hashim).
I reached Yusuf’s place 15 minutes before reporting time… and we started chatting about inane things… his family, my family, his personal life, my personal life… when you start doing this, it means trust.
The pick up arrived at the exact time… Istanbul tourism industry is very well organized… no wonder, it is able to draw so many tourists… the professionalism is impeccable… and I, for one, was thoroughly satisfied with the services… the kind of deals I got… clean bunk beds, courteous staff, no racial feeling anywhere… and high degree of professionalism… but now I was leaving Istanbul for the Turkish hinterlands… as Yusuf had warned me… I should start picking up Turkish… and stop expecting same level of comforts.
When I entered the pick up (a Mercedes Station Wagon!!!)… I was greeted by a female voice… Hi!- I realized that I wasn’t alone…
She was Hoda, half British-half Iraqi… who was also visiting Turkey for about two weeks… but only coastal Turkey, before proceeding to Aleppo, where she plans to join a German NGO. We traveled together for next whole day… and I had some very interesting discussions on religion, Arab issues with her…
For starters- she was born of Muslim father and a Christian mother.
The ride is inexpensive… and a wonderful peep into the commoner’s life in Istanbul- quite like the felucca rides in Cairo. One can find- among his or her fellow travelers- a young couple, a lonely old man, some quarreling friends, a loving mother and her kids- and can identify with each one of them… like I did, with a mother, who was being pestered by his 4 year old kid for a Ben 10 watch.
Apart from relishing the feeling of criss-crossing Europe and Asia… Asia side is avoidable… especially if one was on a one-day visit of Istanbul- like me. The Byzantine and Ottoman empires were largely based in the European part of Istanbul… for some strange reason… it would have been far more practical for the Muslim rulers to have based themselves in Asian side, utilizing the natural defence that Bosphorous provided to them, against the invading Christian Armies… especially when their empire extended eastwards, and not so much, westwards.
After a quick trip to Uskudar on the Asian side, I sailed back to Eminonu to visit landmarks near the Eminonu Ferry Station… a grand mosque called New Mosque… passable… because it is a copy of much grander Blue Mosque… then the Spice Bazaar (which, sadly, was closed for the day) but nevertheless it was juxtaposed to a crowded courtyard, where a huge number of Istanbul locals come to picnic and shop and therefore, this place was a wonderful local experience… a couple of 100 meters away was the Grand Bazaar, and the Sulemaniye Mosque… but by the time I reached the place… it was deserted… somebody told me that due to the great Bairam festival… everything comes to a screeching halt in these areas.
I walked down to the Hippodrome… all along the walk; I kept on stumbling beautiful buildings… Istanbul’s beauty lies in these carefully preserved buildings… it makes your unintended walk appear like a treasure hunt… every other building is a gem… making you wonder about the history of the place…
Sitting on a bench at Hippodrome, I looked around… the dusk has started crawling all around me… in few hours; I had to leave this place to the next destination. I could not help relishing the fact that here I was sitting at a place which once used to hold more than 100000 people for public processions and gatherings. Today little remains of Hippodrome… and yet it is the single most evocative place in this part of the world. It represents the humanity.
I saw a young man beside me drinking a milk-colored drink… I asked- what’s it… Salep… I tried it… it tasted different… I was told that Salep is one of the traditional Turkish medicinal drinks… made from some root tuber… it helps in keeping away cold and cough… little did I know that I would need a lot of Salep in the days to come. (More on it, in one of the musings from the Anatolia)
I checked my wallet… the number of Turkish liras in my wallet was plummeting… Istanbul is expensive. I needed to convert some dollars into Liras, fast. I checked a few Currency stores nearby and realized that they were giving me ridiculously low rates… 1.43 for a dollar, this was steep… at airport, for instance, the banks were giving me 1.49 (of course with a commission cut, which made the rate 1.48)…
I refrained from converting money there… and walked back to Yusuf… my friend and guide in Istanbul… he said that often the Currency dealers in Sultanahmet give a very low rate, and have formed a cartel… and that the actual rate was indeed 1.49… he offered me to convert 100 dollars of mine at that rate… saying that he will get the 100 dollar bill converted somewhere near his house… where more honest currency dealers reside. He then told me to report to him at 8pm for the pick up to bus station… I thanked him again.
In the morning at Sindabad, I came across a dark complexioned man … we, then, had shared smile… in the evening while whiling away my time and waiting for 8 pm, we started chatting… he was from Morocco… and was delighted to know that, after so many days, he was meeting a person who knew a little bit of Arabic… (Moroccan Arabic, is quite different from the Standard Arabic… as in Algerian Arabic, Moroccan Arabic has huge influence of French in it). We chatted for a while… he had been on the road for last 2 months… traveling Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan, Syria and now Turkey… and plans to return in a few days to Morocco. I nicknamed him Ibn Batuta, and we laughed. He took me to a good and cheap kebab joint nearby, where we had a hearty dinner… while leaving I hugged him… and said insha Allah we will meet again one day… he also said the same… there was a kind of bond between us.
I packed my bag… waved a good bye to the Moroccan guy Hashim, the beautiful girl at reception (who, incidentally, was planning to go to Egypt with his boyfriend in few days, and took a lot of inputs about Egypt from me and Hashim).
I reached Yusuf’s place 15 minutes before reporting time… and we started chatting about inane things… his family, my family, his personal life, my personal life… when you start doing this, it means trust.
The pick up arrived at the exact time… Istanbul tourism industry is very well organized… no wonder, it is able to draw so many tourists… the professionalism is impeccable… and I, for one, was thoroughly satisfied with the services… the kind of deals I got… clean bunk beds, courteous staff, no racial feeling anywhere… and high degree of professionalism… but now I was leaving Istanbul for the Turkish hinterlands… as Yusuf had warned me… I should start picking up Turkish… and stop expecting same level of comforts.
When I entered the pick up (a Mercedes Station Wagon!!!)… I was greeted by a female voice… Hi!- I realized that I wasn’t alone…
She was Hoda, half British-half Iraqi… who was also visiting Turkey for about two weeks… but only coastal Turkey, before proceeding to Aleppo, where she plans to join a German NGO. We traveled together for next whole day… and I had some very interesting discussions on religion, Arab issues with her…
For starters- she was born of Muslim father and a Christian mother.
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