MANILA, Philippines - The Friendliest People on Two Continents. People in Istanbul are really friendly. Every time I walked out of my hotel, lots of guys would come up, ask me where I was from, and walk alongside just to keep me company. Then, if I so much as said “Good morning,” they would offer — assuring me they expected nothing in return — to show me the way to the Blue Mosque.
I made a lot of friends this way. By a strange coincidence, most of them had brothers-in-law who sold carpets. And of course, as befits friends, the brothers-in-law hoped I would buy something from them. But because we were really good friends, they were willing to take a loss on any carpet I bought. Today only, of course.
So if you do go to Istanbul, and do not want to buy FIVE carpets, as I wound up doing, try not to make too many friends. When strange men come up to you in the streets offering to show you the way to the Blue Mosque or wanting to know if you are Japanese, do not pay any attention. Do not say “Hi.” Do not say, “Leave me alone.” Just keep walking.
What do the Blue Mosque and Seoul Have in Common? If you ever manage to escape the carpet salesmen, there is a lot to see in this city of 16 million inhabitants which was, for 1,500 years, the most important city in the world. The tourist area of Istanbul is called Sultanahmet (pronounced sool-TUN-ach-MED) and this is where most of the world-famous attractions are, including aforesaid Blue Mosque.
I must confess, however, that I did not enter the Blue Mosque at all because, this being a place of worship, you must leave your shoes at the front door. Having just read about how thousands of shoes are lost annually in Seoul (at restaurants), I was not about to let my $1,200 Ermenegildo Zegnas out of my sight. Well, okay, they were really $69.95 Nikes. But I was very fond of them. Anyway, the exterior of the Blue Mosque is stunning, especially in the evening, and its six minarets are cool (most mosques have only one or two).
Across the plaza, the Hagia Sophia (pronounced A-ya SOF-ya by the well-informed) represents one of the most remarkable feats of architecture of the ancient world. Emperor Justinian had it built around 350 AD as a basilica. Without benefit of any steel, and with minimal use of internal columns, his engineers were able to create a massive interior space that could hold thousands of people. For over 1,000 years, Hagia Sophia represented the largest roofed gathering space in the world, and even now I found it a lot more awe-inspiring than St. Peter’s or the Notre Dame, which seem cramped by comparison. Inside Hagia Sophia you feel you could fly a kite.
The Russians Are Coming. Ever since I saw the James Bond movie From Russia With Love and gazed upon Daniela Bianchi’s cleavage, I had wanted to see Istanbul. You should watch this movie before visiting; I’m sure that Daniela Bianchi (an Italian) has done more for Istanbul tourism than any other person alive. In the scene where she says, “Zzhems, Zzhems, will we make luff offen?”, they are on a ferry cruising up the Bosphorous.
In winter there is only one cruise a day. Eminonu Pier was near my hotel but I went early, and good thing, too. This was not the first time I chose a line just so I could stand behind a girl with silken hair and nice hips, and I guess it won’t be my last. Fortunately, I got my ticket in time anyway. (And I never saw her face, which is sort of better, don’t you think?)
The Bosphorous cruise is regarded one of the great romantic short boat-rides in the world. Considering that I was not with Daniela Bianchi, or a distant facsimile, or indeed anybody, I thought it was pretty good. There are picturesque ruins and attractive cityscapes on both sides. And, unlike the Danube, the Thames, and most other bodies of water adjacent to big cities, the Bosphorous is, amazingly, clear and blue. Accordingly, I would put it right up there with New York’s Staten Island Ferry, Hong Kong’s Star Ferry, Venice’s Vaporetto (but only in winter, for reasons known to anyone who has visited in summer), and Seattle’s Bainbridge Island Ferry, all of which I recommend to you as boat rides you should try before you die.
PG-Rated Harem. Just a bit up the hill from the pier, the Topkapi Palace is actually a large park that somehow vaguely resembles a New England college campus, and has two big draws. One is the State Jewels, of which the best known is the Emerald-Jeweled Dagger. Let me give you a useful tip here. There are five rooms, and people automatically line up at the first one. If like 99 percent of all tourists you are only interested in the Jeweled Dagger, head straight for the fifth room and save yourself an hour or two. Guidebooks should tell you useful stuff like this. You’re welcome.
The other draw is the Harem, where the sultan’s women were kept. All day long, dirty-minded tourists line up for a look at the Harem. (I was an exception; I wanted to see the Harem purely for the historical interest.) I don’t know what those other visitors are all thinking, but Hello! There are no real people in the harem anymore nor are there actresses dressed as concubines. (What an idea! If the Topkapi’s curators were on the ball, they would have hot models in harem costumes; ticket sales would skyrocket, Turkey’s foreign debt would be repaid.) For those with dirty minds, the Topkapi Harem tour is short on sexual satisfaction.
However, I appreciated its historical value.
The Grand Bazaar. While recovering from the bitter disappointment of failing to see anything remotely prurient in the Harem, many tourists wander down Divanyolu Street and if they do not get lost on a side street, 15 minutes later they arrive at the Grand Bazaar. The Grand Bazaar goes back to 1460 AD and is an atmosphere-laden, very large covered mall, now housing some 2,000 shops selling tourist goods, jewelry, leather, antiques, fabrics, lamps, and, of course, carpets. The lanes run in every direction in a Byzantine maze. However, guided only by my unerring sense of direction, I found an exit after only two and a half days.
Well, not really, but I had to buy five carpets before someone would show me the way out.
Testicle Kebab, Anyone? Shopping and museum-hopping can give you a powerful appetite, and fortunately there are lots of restaurants all over Sultanahmet. Unlike Vienna, whose best restaurants are Italian, and London, whose best restaurants are Indian, in Istanbul the best restaurants are Turkish. In fact, most of the restaurants are Turkish... To be honest, all the restaurants are Turkish. In this city, they don’t go in for foreign cuisine much.
And with good reason. Turkish food is pretty good. It is related to Greek, though with many differences. (Be careful about confusing Greeks and Turks; ever since the Trojan War, they have not gotten along particularly well.) While many guidebooks will rhapsodize over the “mezze,” which are assorted appetizers, mezze taste just about the same as Greek food, and are not the high point of Turkish food. Oops. Neither are kebabs or shawarma, which also taste more or less Greek. Oops.
If you really want to have something to brag about when you get home, order “Testy Kebab.” Don’t worry, Testy doesn’t mean what you think it does. Available in almost every restaurant, it can be made with any meat, but the key point is that it is cooked under pressure in a clay pot which eventually is flamed and cracked open right at your table, attracting lots of attention. The result is a kind of stew that is tender, subtle, and powerful all at once.
And, just because I like you, here’s another suggestion. This is a serious recommendation. At the tram stop for the Blue Mosque, walk up the nearest alley half a block to the Adonin Restaurant. If you don’t see it, try another alley. They serve a dish called “Adonin Palace.” This is not traditional Turkish food, but it tastes Turkish, and is out of sight. I think it’s chicken. Trust me.
Turkish Viagra. Still on the subject of edibles, when I strolled through the Spice Market near the waterfront, I saw several signs in front of what looked like nougat, saying “Turkish Viagra - Do it 5 times in one night.”
I will not admit that I bought some. However, in case I did, I guess it must have been old stock, because I was only able to manage my usual three times.
By the way, no doubt you have heard of Turkish coffee. Get ready for a shock. Turkish coffee is just awful, tasting more or less like watery mud. Stay away from it. I will not be held responsible for what happens to you if you drink Turkish coffee. And I know the Turks are with me on this one, because none of them drink their coffee, either; instead, they all drink apple tea; the coffee seems to be some kind of long-standing joke on foreigners.
Hotel with a Flaw. If you have been paying any attention at all, by now you have probably grasped that if you want to experience the real Istanbul, you need to find a hotel in Sultanahment.
My hotel was spitting distance from both the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. It fronted a quiet cobblestoned street and had an internal courtyard with lovely flowers. Breakfast was hearty, and the staff were great. My room was comfortable and well-appointed, though the carpet in the bathroom was mere cotton on cotton, whereas the better ones are at least silk on wool (I sense that already you are impressed by my expertise on Turkish carpets).
However, I cannot in conscience tell you the hotel’s name because it is in a neighborhood infested with carpet dealers — big dealers, small dealers, Kilim dealers, tribal rug dealers, you name it. If you were to stay at my hotel you would never leave Istanbul without spending a large chunk of your life savings on carpets, and I would never forgive myself. Thanks. I knew you would understand.
But do go. Istanbul is a city unlike any other, with a unique feel. Considering its size and age, it is remarkably clean and efficiently run. Plan on at least five days, and even if you stayed a month you wouldn’t run out of interesting places to see. Don’t talk to strange men on the street, be respectful of all things Turkish and Islamic, steer clear of the coffee, and you will have a wonderful time.