Where East meets West

This is the city that straddles Europe and Asia, where East meets West. Welcome to Istanbul.

Begin with a stroll. Pick up something light like a simit, the wanna-be-bagel sesame roll that the street vendors sell on nearly every corner. Maybe take a walk through Gülhane Park for a peaceful start.

A street vendor outside Gülhane Park selling simit (rolls).

Fill up on something hearty to prepare yourself for the day of touristing. You won't have trouble finding a rich, meaty dish, and normally there is at least one eggplant-based meal for the vegetarians among us. (Plenty of fish, too, if you are so inclined.) If you're traveling on a moderate budget (let's say mid-range hosteling or low-end Airbnb-type travelers), you won't be disappointed at the Sultanahmet Gulhane Kebab House (and the location in the heart of the tourist district isn't too bad either), just don't take a seat if you're stomach is rumbling or your watch is ticking. In Turkey, no one is ever in a rush.

After you've capped your meal off with a Turkish tea, if you have time for just one stop, the Hagia Sophia should probably be it.

The Hagia Sophia!

This singular building encapsulates so much of this land's history. The Hagia Sophia, whose name means Holy Wisdom, was built in 532 AD under the rule of Emperor Justinian I. It was built over two earlier Hagia Sophias, that latter of which was destroyed in the Nika Riots during which angry, overtaxed mobs tried to run Justinian out of office. The threatened emperor ordered this incarnation of the Hagia Sophia just a month after the riots, a masterpiece designed to show off his prowess. It was built in only six years. The architecture is a unique blend of Greek, Roman, and Asian that defined the Byzantine era. Stones were brought in from Egypt, marble from Greece, and yellow rock from Syria for the construction of the cathedral. At the time it was built, the central dome was the world's largest, amazing visitors with its seeming defiance of gravity. The Hagia Sophia rivaled Rome, standing as the world's biggest cathedral for nearly a millennium. Over the centuries, emperors continually added their own touches, as can be seen in the crumbling tiles of Christ, the Virgin Mary, and various Byzantine heads of state.

In 1453, the Ottomans conquered Constantinople, and the ageing cathedral was converted to a mosque. Mosaics and paintings were covered in plaster, and minarets and medallions displaying the monograms of the four caliphs were added. Though it was not originally built as a mosque, the architecture of the Hagia Sophia was so admired that it served as a model for many mosques built in the Ottoman Empire, including the Blue Mosque.

In 1934, the newly secularized government of Turkey converted the Hagia Sophia from a mosque to a museum, as it is to this day. By law, it is illegal to use the Hagia Sophia as a place of worship.

Inside the Hagia Sophia

You could probably wander around the Hagia Sophia for hours, but a peek out one of its windows reminds you that there's still much to be seen.

Looking out from the Hagia Sophia onto the Blue Mosque

From the Hagia Sophia, it's just a short walk across a little grassy park to the Blue Mosque. Built in the early 17th century upon the grounds of the former Byzantine emperor's palace, the Blue Mosque occupies a historically significant site in downtown Istanbul. One of the features that makes this mosque so extraordinary is its minarets. Specifically, it boasts six, whereas the standard is four, sometimes less. In fact, this was rather scandalous at the time as the mosque in the Ka'aba at Mecca boasted just the same number. Ultimately, the Turkish sultan had to send his architects to Mecca to build them a seventh minaret just to smooth things over. For your average tourist, especially someone not so familiar with mosque architecture, the most memorable feature is hardly the minarets: the interior is lined with 20,000 blue tiles from which the mosque gets its (English) name. So line up, grab your gender-appropriate covers from the tourist counter, and take a peek inside.

The Blue Mosque

So you've wandered through architectural feats with walls tickled by the sun's rays. By now, it's late afternoon and the sun is bearing down. How about a monument further from the sun's reach? Just round another corner and descend a flight of stairs to discover the Basilica Cistern. You'll wander along planked walkways between seemingly endless rows of columns, whose reflections against the watery depths only extend the apparent size of the place. Slow-moving carp slip in and out of the patches of the light rising from the water. The dim lighting produces an eery, ghostly atmosphere, which you'll have to enjoy without sharing on social media: the light levels render it nearly impossible to photograph. 

My best shot at a photo of the Basilica Cistern

The cistern was built in the 6th century from recycled Roman monuments as a water storage facility for the emperor's palace and the local populace, who were always at risk of siege. The cistern builders repurposed a variety of sculpted and carved Roman columns, including two Medusa heads now serving as pedestals (one on its side and the other completely upside down!) through which water still trickles today. You'll be surprised to find something so calm and mysterious right in the heart of Istanbul's tourist district.

Emerging into the sunlight again, you'll quickly be reminded of the summer temperatures in Turkey. It's time for an afternoon snack. So take a stroll down to the harbor and grab a seat overlooking the water at Hafiz Mustafa. Enjoy a lemonade or a tea and something sweet. Have a drool over their dessert selection at their photo gallery, or don't take my word: Trip Advisor currently ranks them at #45 of 11,427 Istanbul restaurants.

A much-needed break at Hafiz Mustafa

Rejuvenated, why not do some late afternoon shopping through the typically Turkish markets? And you can't go to Turkey and not admire at least one Turkish lamp store. Personally, I had to hold myself back. We'd already stocked up on goodies back in Selçuk, where we got a finishing touch for our entryway and a fifth lamp to bump up the count and add some more color to our bedroom chandelier, which I'd purchased in Grenada earlier this year.

In Turkey, we got the finishing touches for our apartment: a lamp for our entryway, and a fifth (purple) lamp (and green replacement) for the bedroom chandelier.

And speaking of goodies you can pick up in Turkey, have you heard of zultanite? If not, do we know the salesman for you. That lampseller in Selçuk sure knew how to make a sell. Zultanite is a gem found only in the Turkish Anatolian mountains. It is very unusual in that it undergoes a striking color change under different lighting, from a bright kiwi green in sunlight to a champagne shade in intermediate lighting to a raspberry pink under evening or indoor light. Needless to say, I couldn't resist. If you pick one up yourself, I think you'll be just as entertained to watch it change throughout the day.

Zultanite, a fancy color-changing Turkish gem stone

As the night falls and the calls to prayer from neighboring mosques compete for Istanbul's airspace, take a moment to enjoy downtown Istanbul and the lively Sultanahmet district.

Istanbul by night

This is a city where you'll never have enough time to explore every corner.

The Sultanahmet water tower by night

Soon enough, the trip to Istanbul will inevitably draw to a close. Drag your suitcases back down to Taksim Square and catch the bus to the airport.

Leaving our corner of Istanbul behind.

Say güle güle, or farewell, to Turkey for now, with wishes to meet again soon.

Güle güle, Turkey!

Enjoy a quick lunchtime layover in Copenhagen...

Calm, quiet, clean, and traffic predominantly of the two-wheeled variety. Yep, we definitely made it back to the right country.

And even if you wish you could still be back in that sunny, exotic, and welcoming land in which you had awoken, it's safe to say someone will be happy to see you return.

Happy to be home

Gizem and Mehmet's Big Fat Turkish Wedding

Gizem's walk down the aisle was the last of many steps in the multi-year affair that was her marrying Mehmet. Before we'd even met, Mehmet and Gizem were wed in a religious ceremony. Last summer, I attended their French civil ceremony. Finally, last Friday, robed first in a sleek red flowing gown and later in an embroidered, sequined traditional red gown with veil, Gizem held her henna ceremony, a traditional Turkish pre-wedding celebration in which the women (or sometimes, these days, all wedding guests) gather to dance and place henna on the bride's hands. Historically, this was the time when the bride was introduced to her future mother-in-law. Each unmarried woman is also invited to get henna'ed. However, this is no Indian-style painting of delicate patterns on hands, feet, and arms.

Gizem 'in Kinasi: Gizem's henna ceremony, a traditional Turkish pre-wedding festivity for the girls

At the henna ceremony, a group of women dance circles around the seated bride while one carries a silver bowl filled with candles and green goop. (This, it turns out, is the henna.) After the dance, the woman with the bowl shares a few words with the bride before applying a large clump of sticky henna on each hand. The rest of the unmarried girls stick out their right hands, accept the glob, and do their best not to touch their faces for the next hour of so. Decorative palm-sized flowers on elastics can be wrapped around the hands to avoid any nasty spills. This cultural tradition stretches all the way across North Africa, as some guests explained to me, and the circular marks on the women's hands are considered auspicious for the bride.

Gizem 'in Kinasi: the pre-wedding henna ceremony

Finally, when the henna is done, Gizem was handed a clay jar which she held in front of her as she danced in front of Mehmet, until, in a surprise twist at the song's end, she smashed the jar at his feet and stamped on its shards, spilling the candied contents of the jar across the floor. This too, as I was led to understand, is a traditional Turkish practice.

Sticking with traditional wedding traditions, Gizem smashed a candy-filled clay jar at Mehmet's feet.

And finally, Sunday. The big day. Everything was perfect, from the palm-tree- and impatiens-lined passage to enter the reception, to the used book and lace-covered mason jar floral centerpieces, to the Turkish evil eye-bedecked trees, to that incredible watery walkway connecting the bride and groom's table to the dance floor.

Gizem and Mehmet's wedding

Most of the celebration was, in fact, surprisingly Western. But perhaps that shouldn't come as a surprise. According to turkishculture.org, Turkish brides have been wearing white since 1898, when the sultan's daughter brought Queen Victoria's wedding fashion trend to Turkey. One of the few noteworthy exceptions to the Westernization of the wedding was the official seal-the-deal kiss, which, by Turkish custom, was on the bride's forehead rather than her lips. The bridesmaids also wrote the names of all the single ladies on Gizem's shoe during the reception. The sooner a name is worn off during the course of the evening, the sooner the eligible lady will be wed. Speaking of the single ladies, their bouquet toss is preceded by a long dance in which the bride flaunts her bouquet over the crowd.

The bride flaunts her bouquet and playfully teases the single ladies before the toss.

Another neat touch to the Turkish wedding is the gift giving: it is traditional to offer the bride and groom gold coins and golden bracelets, but the gifts are only given when the bride and groom do their rounds (with a bridesmaid toting a basket in tow). This practice actually gives the bride and groom a chance to chat, however briefly, with all of their guests, which we really appreciated. And finally, there was the Turkish-style dancing, all in the shoulders and the arms, stiff enough (by Western standards) that Nicolas was even willing to have a go.

It didn't actually take too much convincing to get Nicolas into the photo booth. :)

Despite the language barriers with most of the guests, the wedding was a fantastic party, and a night to remember.

Mehmet and Gizem, the new Mr. and Mrs.!

The birthplace of Homer, maybe

The magnet left behind as a token of thanks read "Izmir." My renters had left my Parisian apartment clean, with one red rose lying on the bar table just under the window overlooking the Eiffel Tower. They had stayed for just one night, having ventured to my Montparnasse apartment from Paris's 13th Arrondissement (District) for, as I later learned, the romantic setting to ask an important question— the question. At the time, though, they were just two strangers who'd left a magnet, a red rose, and a note suggesting that we might get to know each other over dinner.

The magnet that planted the seed for this week's adventures

Two years later, here I was, landed in Izmir for the big day that the question two years ago had led us to. Mehmet and Gizem were hardly strangers anymore. And I even had a special someone with whom to share their big day.

Izmir, Mehmet and Gizem's home town, is the third largest city in Turkey. The city has ancient roots, dating back to at least 3000 BC, and the region has been inhabited much longer. Izmir's name derives from the city's former Greek name of Smyrna (from is Smyrna, meaning to Smyrna). Izmir is a highly likely birthplace of the Greek poet Homer, author of the Iliad and the Odyssey, though given current Greek-Turkey relations, such a claim can rub the wrong way.

The list of former rulers of Izmir reads like a who's who of the powerful empires of history: the Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Christian Crusaders, Mongols, and the Ottomans all had their hands on this city at one time or another. The Ottoman rule of Izmir began in 1415. Under the Ottomans, Izmir was a very multicultural place, home to Greeks, Jews, Levantines, Armenians, and many Western European merchants.

At the end of WWI, the Greeks began a period of Turkish occupation with the capture of Izmir, following through on a promise from the Allies of Greek territorial gains in Turkey. This lasted through 1922, in a violent period referred to as the Greco-Turkish War, or the Western Front of the Turkish War of Independence. (The ramifications of this war have had much positive effects, such as the creation of Turkey as an exemplary model of a secular, democratic Muslim country, but also have left lasting scars in Turkish relations with Armenia, Greece, and consequently the EU.) After the Greek withdrawal from Izmir, ending the Greco-Turkish War, the Great Fire of Smyrna destroyed nearly three quarters of the city of Izmir. Most non-Turkish historians believe that this fire was orchestrated by the Turks to eliminate non-Turkish influences in the city. Tens of thousands of people perished, and hundreds of thousands more were left as refugees after the city was destroyed. The new Turkish government then made many additional moves to further homogenize the population. This period is still highly contentious between the Greeks, Armenians, and Turks, and trying to sift through to where the truth likely lies through google searches can be a real headache. So thanks for reading this far, if you made it. Let's call it a day on the history lesson.

All the government initiatives and cultural homogenization did not destroy Izmir's identity as a liberal, cosmopolitan, and secular haven in Turkey. Conservative Turks still use the old Ottoman slur Gavur Izmir (Infidel Izmir). Living in what some describe as a world of historical amnesia, today's Izmir is a young, vibrant, Westernized city, with busy streets where the people dress as in any other major European metropolis. And, despite Turkey's Muslim heritage, finding a bar and some locals with whom to enjoy a beer is hardly a challenge in Izmir. Gavur Izmir, indeed!

The Izmir waterfront

Overall, my impression of this city is that it's probably a great place in Turkey to live. It's also an excellent launchpad to visiting a host of tourist sites, including Pamukkale and Ephesus. However, the city itself isn't exactly topping Turkey's list tourist hot-spots. That's not to say that Izmir isn't worth a visit. For one, the locals in Izmir could not be kinder or more welcoming at every turn, whether asking for directions or whatnot, random locals kept going out of their way to be helpful. And of course, there are at least a few sites worth checking out. The city is known for its long and peaceful waterfront, where couples, families, and small clusters of friends gather to picnic and fish at all hours of day and night. The Kemeraltı Bazaar also tops Izmir's tourist must-see lists.

The Kemeraltı Bazaar

Another one of the most famous sites in Izmir is the Clock Tower in Konak Square, a gift from the German Emperor Wilhelm II to commemorate the Sultan Abdulhamit I's 25th year of rule in 1901.

Izmir's Clock Tower by night

We stayed with a lovely host and retired Turkish military man, Nurettin, who was happy to be our host and surrogate parent while we were in town. He greeted us every evening with Turkish tea and snacks when we returned back to his neighborhood, right by the Asansör monument. (I couldn't get enough of all the words the Turks had borrowed. Despite its totally disparate linguistic roots, a lot of words in Turkish can be guessed by sounding them out if you have some basic knowledge of English and French! Asansör is a great example: it means elevator and is a direct transliteration of the French word for elevator, ascenseur.) Asansör is literally what it advertizes: a giant elevator. It was built by a wealthy Jewish patron in the early 1900s to ease travel through the steep Konak neighborhood of Izmir, and it offers a great view across the city.

Our Airbnb host Nurettin, his home with a view in the Konak neighborhood, and the nearby Asansör monument

And tonight, Nurettin will be sending us off to the big celebration that brought us to Turkey in the first place: Mehmet and Gizem's wedding!

Ancient Ephesus: the Paris of Christ's time

The ancient city of Ephesus was first founded 8000 years ago. There is evidence that the region was inhabited since the Early Bronze Age. Ephesus was a vibrant city at the heart of Greco-Roman civilization. At its peak, it was home to over 250,000 inhabitants and to the ancient world's largest temple, four times larger than Athen's Parthenon: the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. During the time of Christ, Ephesus was the capitol of Asia Minor, a wealthy, sophisticated cultural hub. One website described it as the cultural equivalent of Paris at that time. It is also a city of biblical importance: The Apostle Paul was said to have preached at the Temple of Artemis, Saint John is buried here, and the Virgin Mary is believed to have lived out her days in the outskirts of the town.

Over its history, settlements of the city of Ephesus moved several times. Under the Ottoman rule, the living city was renamed Ayasuluk. In 1914, after the War of Turkish Independence, its name was changed to Selçuk, the living descendent of the once great city of Ephesus, today a small tourist stop for visitors en route to the archeological sites. The ruins of ancient Ephesus, located several kilometers from Selçuk, date from around 300 BC, originating from a settlement begun by Lysimachos, a general of Alexander the Great.

While open to tourists, Ephesus is also an active archeological site where new discoveries are constantly made. Although over 80% of Ephesus remains to be unearthed, the ruins are already considered to be one of the ancient Western world's most complete classical metropolises.

It's just wild to walk down the stone streets of ancient Ephesus, wondering what stories those stones statues might have to tell of the generations they've seen walk through their archways. To pass through the entry to the Library of Celsus, admiring the double wall design made to protect against humidity and temperature, and pondering what knowledge those walls once contained. To sit in the theater made for 25,000 spectators and imagine it full of men draped in togas. Even to peer into the latrines and remember that the near-mythical men of antiquity were still quite human, albeit with a very different sense of privacy and personal space. As Dr. Magness, an archeologist at UNC-Chapel Hill, describes, Ephesus "is almost like a snapshot in time. You get the sense of what walking down the street of a Roman city was like without having to use your own imagination."

The Cotton Palace

Proving that we are still young, travel-hardy adventurers, we caught a 2am flight out of Copenhagen to get the most out of every vacation day we took. It was a great chance to enjoy one last dinner with my parents, who were spending their last evening in Copenhagen before returning to the States. After a close-call layover in Istanbul and plenty of napping on a sunny train ride, we safely made our way to Denizli by early afternoon. Rallying despite a night of what can, at best, be called questionable sleep, we made it to destination #1 in our Turkish adventures.

Oh, hello, Pamukkale

Pamukkale: the Cotton Palace. Looking up at its sparkling cascades, white as fallen snow, sends a shiver through your toes, but the first cautious footsteps are rewarded with a warm, watery caress. There is nothing icy about this place. Clifftop thermal springs carrying calcite-laden water have left this pearly shade over millennia. Nature's handiwork can only be admired in the steep edges and gentle ripples of the calcite, seemingly frozen in motion. Terraced blue pools hug the hillside, lined with gooey white mud that squishes delightfully between your toes as you climb.

Turkish adventures, Day 1: Pamukkale and Hieropolis

This site has long been appreciated for its natural wonder. It was the site of an ancient cult. Then, in the 2nd century BC, the Attalid kings of Pergamom built the spa town of Hierapolis atop this site. The city changed hands to the Romans in 133 AD. Its Greco-Roman and Byzantine ruins include an amphitheater, a necropolis, religious sites devoted to various Roman gods, and early Christian churches. Pamukkale and Hieropolis were first included in the UNESCO World Heritage list in 1988.

Pamukkale, I hope we'll meet again.

It was a bit of a pity that the timing of our visit didn't fall a little more conveniently. Many of the smaller pools were empty by this point in the year. Spring is when the thermal springs flow most heavily, and when we'd recommend a visit. But even not at its peak, this site is definitely worth seeing, climbing, and wading through.

And what about the town of Denizli? We did face our challenges given our total lack of Turkish. Though Turkish uses Latin characters, we might have done well to pick up some basic vocabulary before the trip. However, walking the streets as a couple of Westerners was never an issue. The majority of locals dress in typical Western fashion, and the general atmosphere was very safe if hectic in a typically Turkish way. (There was also an inexplicable abundance of Arby's and KFC fast food chains.) We steered clear of those and did pretty well for ourselves with some typical Turkish fare.

The Turks know how to do dessert: calling it a day with Turkish tea and Turkish-style ice cream sandwiches— dondurma (Turkish ice cream) smushed between layers of baklava and flaky Turkish pastries, coated with hot chocolate syrup.

All in a day's travels.