Last Day, Traveling Home

In my Nanuk of the North coat, Blue Mosque in the background.

Istanbul #4 of 4

At this point I think it’s a fair question to ask, does my newly acquired thing for Turkish olives signal I am deficient in a vitamin or a mineral? I plated up my first pass at the breakfast buffet and it contained an odd combination of plain yogurt, carved-it-myself honey, and olives. However, what struck me was that I didn’t get enough olives.

The rain finally stopped and it was freezing. Somehow I didn’t realize it does that here but I came equipped having looked at the weather report before we left, so off we went. It’s worth mentioning that while there is considerable unrest and animosity towards the US regarding the actions of #45, if you are not amongst the militant, most people seem to get that governments often don’t represent their people. Indeed many have been educated by experience for years, having been under the thumb of globally acknowledged dictators well before us. Still it’s surprising how Donald Trump isn’t held against us. Last year while on the Via Francigena we apologized to a group at dinner for loosing Trump on the world. A French woman in her 80’s cracked, “Oh, we don’t like our president either. But at least he’s nice to look at.”

The Blue Mosque certainly conjures images with its name and stunning edifice, but walking in my sense was “Not so much,” followed by “I must be a bad human.” Maybe it had to do with expectations, specifically, reading that it was built as a competitive response to the Hagia Sophia. Maybe it had to do with taking off my shoes and walking on a damp carpet. Or, could it have been the scaffolding that appears in every ancient building, was in many particularly unfortunate places? Sure, and very likely, the harsh neon lighting was a major culprit.

Topkapi Palace was, among other things, a friendly reminder that inequity has been running rampant on a massive scale for centuries on this planet. Although the Imperial Treasury, which houses the worlds largest “Spoonmaker’s” Diamond, was closed due to renovations, there was plenty else to take in.

The Hall of the Holy Relics is kind of personal. The foot print of Muhammad. Parts of John the Baptist’s finger. An Imam chanting the Koran, continuing a tradition that has gone unbroken for centuries, a stunning feat, but don’t studiously watch the Imam because I don’t think he likes that. It’s all a bit arresting, quite dark, and I’m ambivalent about it. This is a popular tourist attraction, mixed with important religious artifacts that continue to function as inspiration for prayer. But with a crush of people, the necessity to move quickly pervades, and contemplation of significant relics is tough in five seconds.

I am already on my way back from this short trip. I left Sandy at the hotel to head to the airport alone. It is the only time I have had any concern for my safely. Too many Über rides gone bad stories, and realistically, I’m in a foreign country, getting into a car with a man I do not know, a language I do not speak, in the dark, for an airport that is 45 minutes away, and I would have no clue if we made a detour. However, we arranged the taxi with the hotel so I felt assured, and that feeling was confirmed as we drove along and he kept unrolling and rolling the window back up. Finally I caught whiff of what he was trying to hide, and I knew I was in the hands of a considerate driver.

Security at the new Istanbul airport was incredible. Three security checks and a pat down for all! Who knows, maybe The Donald is giving a lot of people extra work after all.

See below for photos with captions, and thanks for reading my posts.

©Theresa Elliott, All Rights Reserved

What we could see of the famed domes in the Blue Mosque.

Prayer area with unique lighting, and carpet.

Favorite shot of the day. Part of the Hagia Sophia on the way to Topkapi Palace.