Tags:
Journalism of Courage
You need time in Istanbul, time to let it all seep in, to marvel at your location, looking across the Bosphorous from a waterside cafeacute; on the European bank to the tree-lined streets and glass-fronted apartments of Asia. To take in the magnificence of the Aya Sofya and the Blue Mosque that dominate the old city with its warren of narrow cobblestone streets, bazaars and spice markets. To realise that underneath your hotel is a huge cavern: A cistern from Roman times with massive columns holding up vaulted brick ceilings, fish swimming in the dark below. Or just to walk8212;where else can crossing a bridge mean crossing continents?
Yet there is a strange calmness here. The crowds are intense, but amiable. The traffic is atrocious, but orderly. The markets are chaotic, but spotlessly clean. Everyone has the time to smile, to help out. Turn the corner off a busy street, and there is much chai-sipping and backgammon playing to the quiet hubble-bubble of hookahs. Or move a bit away from the busy areas of the waterfront to where rows of men silently fish, the sound of traffic suddenly replaced by the lapping of water and the calling of gulls.
Just as there are two continents, there are also two personas to this city. The efficiency and discipline of Europe beds the warmth and easiness of Asia. Stately buildings nudge colourful markets. There are women in strappy tops, smoking like chimneys and others in headscarves also smoking like chimneys. It8217;s a city where you can sit at a bar full of locals drinking Turkey8217;s famous aniseed raki to the screech of Britney Spears, and still hear the plaintive voice of the moulvi, calling the faithful to prayer.
A super day trip is on the Bosphorous Strait, snaking up to the Black Sea on the lumbering, majestic ferries, steaming between jetties on the European and Asian sides. Past ramparts of fortresses from the Crusades, past old wooden Ottoman houses and charming open air restaurants lining the quay. You can get off and explore anywhere; we chose to go all the way to the end, to Anadolu Kavai. A short climb takes you away from the sleepy fishing village to a medieval fortress and a cockpit view of the Bosphorous opening out to the Black Sea.
A thousand miles away from Istanbul, Cappadoccia in Central Turkey is almost another country. Snow-capped volcanoes stand like silent sentinels over deep valleys. This is a magical kingdom, where, for millennia, erosion has played king, sculpting the soft pumice into impossible towers and tearing apart the steppes to forge deep gorges. Man, as usual, was quick to stake his claim, ancient tribes carving out stunning cave cities, complete with kitchens, dining halls and churches in the pumice-like cliffs.
It8217;s perfect fodder for tourists, and droves of them stampede around the main sites in organised herds. But the region is vast; stray a little off the tourist trail and you are alone. Free to roam deserted valleys, explore caves that never end and discover forgotten frescoes in deep cave churches, filled with the sound of dead silence.
Our next stop was Egirdir, a small town that juts out into a sweeping lake, ringed by mountains. This is the Turkey that never made it to the tourist brochures. In the tiny village of Akpinar, we were warmly invited to share an impromptu peasant lunch: Soup, potatoes, pasta, and freshly baked bread, spread out on blankets under a walnut tree, everyone dipping their spoons into the communal bowls. A short prayer ended the meal, said with the earnestness of people who live close to the earth. They wanted nothing from us, just a promise to write, to keep in touch.
Through the thick forests of the Taurus ranges, and suddenly, there she is. The Mediterranean. Blue beyond belief, with strips of pure turquoise where white mountains plunge into her. Our days spent on the water: Hiring boats from a new town each morning to swim in distant coves, explore far-flung islands and snorkel into iridescent sea grottos. This is Turkey8217;s Turquoise Coast. There is so much you can do, but the bliss is in doing nothing.
Back in Istanbul, on our last evening, a perfect rainbow arched across the sky, one end in Europe and the other in Asia. A celestial phantom, binding East to West for a few, fugitive moments. This truly is the crossroads of the world.
