ISTANBUL

Istanbul is my favorite big city so far. Very inch of its rolling coast line was filled with buildings upon buildings upon buildings. 15million people nestled together in quarters as old as  Byzantine, Constantinople, and Istanbul. There is so much history, relics, And cats so many cats. We only opted for a few touristy things. Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia and the Basilica cisterns.  After the majesty of Uzbekistans gilded mosques some of us were under whelmed by the interior of the Blue Mosque. Its grandeur lied in the shear size of its domes and architecture.

Hagia Sofia was the center of the Christian world for 900 years, before it became a mosque. Durning the Christian reign it was decorated in golden mosaics of saints and christ. All of them covered from view  with cloths from the main floor of the mosque, so the men praying to Allah can’t see the Christian references. We happened to arrive in the mosque during prayer. Tourists are only allowed in the second floor balcony where most of the remaining  references to Christianity are. It was a little perplexing to be staring at a golden Marry and Jesus whilst listening to Islamic prayer in a building that is was the favorite place to carry out torture, and killings of both sides of power. It was a place to pause and call upon thoughts of power and politics verses spirituality and worship, I wonder if we use our platform of worship any differently today.

My favorite part of Istanbul was the 3,267 mosques squeezed into its  streets. When prayer goes off it is a chorus of echoes rolling through the streets. We stayed in the Balat  neighborhood and I wouldn’t have it any other way (except maybe the asian side, they have the best markets). There is the shiny new town across the horn, and the touristy old town by all the attractions if that’s your jam. Balat is full of locals and a few touristy streets. It is a mishmash of abandoned old wood houses, walk up apartment buildings and everything in-between. Adorned with laundry lines, Tiny tea houses, bodegas, barbershops and plenty of old men gambling over backgammon and smoking Shisha. I could wander its gritty and winding streets for days. Peddlers still push carts of fresh bread, Salep ( a warm sweet wild orchid drink), or tea singing to the residents to come out and buy some.  Istanbul, was alive and busy, but its rhythm was soft and upbeat with plenty of time to enjoy the sun, and sip tea with friends.