This post was first published on the blog "Tuk-tuks, chicken bouquets and bicycle bells" on kerrytolsontravels.com Our Turkish Crush started the moment we stepped off the plane and into the terminal. The surge of people was incredible and it was as if all the planes sitting on the tarmac had disgorged their passengers all at once and the race for Customs was on. There didn't appear to be any order as everyone pressed forward in a great wave towards one funnel line. We tried to find the end of the line but that was impossible as the crowd became bigger and people started slipping under the barriers and in some cases completely ignoring the 'guide ropes' and went up the sides and around in front of those who were waiting right at the front. Mal and I grumbled and mumbled together about the rudeness of people, shaking our heads and"tsk tsking" and tried our best not to be pummelled from behind into the people in front of us. What we should have been doing is taking notes in the art of cue jumping and learning the Frogger step for we are going to need it during our time in Istanbul. There is a reason why Turkish Delight is called just that - divinely delightful, it is the essence of Turkey. So sweet, so exotic, you bite in to it not knowing what is hidden in it's colourful pastel exterior and its ever so moorish, you can't get enough. This sums up Turkey and definitely Istanbul to a tee for me. The moment we step out of the airport and into the taxi we are surrounded by stunning colour, great swathes of flower gardens with pansies and tulips in swirling patterns adorn the sides and middle of the highway leading from the airport to the area we will be staying in. Elaborate fountains spray forth, laced minarets with magnificent domes pop up through the muted pastel coloured housing blocks. It's all a feast for the eyes.
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This post was first published on the blog "Tuk-tuks, chicken bouquets and bicycle bells" on kerrytolsontravels.com Rising early, I wanted to see the Hippodrome in its full glory. It’s a massive square with a huge ancient race track circling it, so I wanted to stand there without another soul and imagine what it may have been like a thousand years ago when gladiators whipped their chariots around the cobblestones and their win or a loss could mean the end of a Byzantine emperor’s rule. In the ottoman years it became the centre for revolution beginnings.
Stepping out into the street I was met by grey skies and drizzling rain. And it was cold. I dashed back into the room for jacket and brolly – it’s amazing how warm the Istanbul buildings are, inside anything more than a cardie was too hot to wear. Back outside I traipsed the quiet streets, there was only a couple of people about, a chap opening his corner store and another sweeping the road. Istanbul is exceedingly clean, for a city of its size I was surprised to see so little rubbish in the areas we had so far ventured into. I arrived at the Hippodrome and found it quiet. And indeed incredible in size and aura. The obelisks seem to soar into the sky and the rain didn’t dampen their splendour, if anything it highlighted their features giving the hieroglyphics depth and sharpness. The mosque was gently bustling with locals going in reverently to prayers and coming out in quiet chatter. |
This blog on Turkey originally appeared on my blog site: Tuk-tuks, chicken bouquets and bicycle bells at kerrytolsontravels.com in 2014
Hello! I'm Kerry
. . . a plan-nothing, have no idea where I'm going travelholic.
A daughter of the gypsies and the wife of a workaholic, I'm forever wondering 'What's over there?' and devising ways to squeeze through the barbed-wire fence of small-business ownership responsibilities and every-day life tangles to discover it. Read more . . .and this is my book
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