When I planned this itinerary
a year ago, Istanbul seemed the ideal stopover between Asia and Europe, its
location straddling the Bosphorous, which separates the two continents, too symbolic
to ignore. I imagined an effortless
transition with an exhilarating mix of both cultures. In reality, however, I found myself feeling rather
melancholy about the impending end of my RTW journey.
Over the past almost-year, it
was usual to feel a tinge of wistful nervousness when one chapter was ending
and the next was yet to unfold, but this time I was plagued with greater unease.
Maybe it was my reluctance to
leave Asia augmented by my trepidation about returning to Europe that made the
four days here less heady and more stressful than anticipated.
Maybe it was my soft spot for
Buddhism that ached and my admitted bias against Islam that chafed; I mean, a
religion that subjugates women like that simply doesn’t get my vote.
Maybe this city heaving with
14, 17, 20 million inhabitants (nobody knows for sure how many) was not the
best first place to land after my month of peaceful, sheltered Ayurvedic
experience.
Maybe it was the coffee I had
so long looked forward to that left a literal bitter taste and jittery hands. Or the heavy, greasy food that didn’t sit so
well in my just-purified digestive system.
Maybe it was the stench of
stale tobacco emanating from so many of the men.
Maybe it was the fitful
spring weather, the assault of damp fog and chilly wind on my body just too
brutal, accustomed as it was to tropical heat and humidity over the past 6
months.
Despite the moodiness, I am still
grateful to have gone and, especially, spent the time there with Raphael. Istanbul is a beautiful metropolis full of
ancient and modern architecture, customs, history, sights, and unquestionably
worth a visit.
N.B. If you haven’t been, you
should consider getting there PDQ as the city sits on a major fault line and it
is reputedly only a matter of time before plate tectonics wreak massive
destruction. Please don’t let my frame of mind
deter you – though I will categorically advise against any and all versions of
the Turkish delight you’ll find everywhere.
