Our hotel has a small fireplace in the restaurant, and I’ve tried to sit close to its warmth every morning.
It’s been a cold few days here in Central Türkiye, and there’s no way to gloss over that, except to note that it’s been even colder back home.
Usually I try to go someplace warm in January, but in this case I got a very good deal on a ticket, which is how I ended up here for such a brief trip. I anticipated it would be cold, so I packed gloves, a sweatshirt, and a coat (I haven’t always been so prepared), and I have used all of them.
Cold winters are typical for this part of the world, and if anything the weather this week is unusual in that most years we should expect to see snow on the ground. Our guide yesterday pointed out that the local climate here isn’t conducive to such common mediterranean foods as olives and figs. Therefore, linseed oil was used in place of olive oil.
We saw a linseed press yesterday.
Speaking of the cold, most visitors go on hot air balloon rides here. It’s such a big deal that they put pictures of balloons everywhere. Everybody tells me that the views are extraordinary, although I’m a bit dubious. Especially in January, I decided not to do a balloon ride, and instead enjoy my rest and breakfast.
As it turns out, during my three mornings here the balloons have been canceled due to weather, so I haven’t missed anything (except seeing the balloons take off, which is also purported to be quite an experience). I’m not certain what aspect of the morning was cause for cancellation, because the air was still in town and the sky was clear yesterday, as it was today.
In fact it was a luminous morning to say goodbye.
Yes, my friends, I bid adieu to the small village of Göreme today. It is a beautiful city and the denizens have been lovely hosts. As Ali, pointed out yesterday, however, it is a very small place which, without its tourist oriented businesses, would barely exist at all.
My driver collected me from my hotel which sits high on the edge of town, and I boarded my domestic Turkish Airlines flight to Istanbul.
For shorter domestic flights here, as other international airports from which I’ve flown, passengers often board via a stairway. It sounds unusual to Americans, but I like the up-close unobstructed view of my airplane.
The flight to Istanbul took an hour, and the drive from the airport to my hotel took 90 minutes, because the airport is far from the city on the European side of Istanbul, while my hotel is on the Asian side.
I got checked in and immediately headed out into the streets of the Kadikoy neighborhood. This isn’t the center of tourism here; instead it is one of the trendy local residential neighborhoods.
The streets were teeming with Turks shopping the stores, stopping in at restaurants, and relaxing at cafes. People are dressed comfortably but warmly – the weather here is much warmer than back in Cappadocia.
I paused at a small shop for a late lunch of lahmacun, a thin crispy flatbread topped with ground meat. It’s a sort of Turkish pizza. Most people seem to order two, but I wasn’t especially hungry and just had one.
And then I had a puzzle to solve. I really only have one objective for my time here tomorrow, and that’s on the European side. My options to get there are the ferry or the subway.
When I was here with Dan we figured out the ferry, but it was time to learn the subway. (There is also a tram, but that won’t get me across the Bosporus.)
I descended into the Metro and found the Istanbulkart machine. My card hasn’t been used in over 4 years and wasn’t working. The sign above the machine indicated, however, that they now accept tap-to-pay, which worked great for my first subway, but didn’t work for the transfer. I bought myself a new Istanbulkart and was soon in Europe again.
My goal for this evening found me, even if I didn’t know I was looking.
I walked to the quayside at Eminonu and looked out across the Golden Horn. About me, ferries glided about in a ponderous dance, fishermen cast their lines into the water, and visitors posed for photos. Further away, the mosques sent out their calls to prayer through the haze of late afternoon, and above me the seabirds circled and cried out.
How had I forgotten the seabirds?
As the light grew dimmer and dusk drew toward night I boarded my ferry back to Kadikoy.
I sat on the top of the ferry, where I could view the old city behind us. The silhouettes of her great domes and minarets were unmistakable and the view was magnificent.
I was jubilant.
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