Istanbul - The Ride

Sat next to a guy who I didn't quite look Turkish, but seemed roughly my age. Good choice. Hakan turned out to be from from Igdır - a village just across the border from Armenia. His family had originally come from Naxçıvan (the piece of Azerbaijan stuck uncomfortably between Iran, Turkey and Armenia). He was living in Köln and studying architecture. It was his holiday and he was flying to see his sister in Istanbul - unfortunately wıth laptop in hand.

It was very interesting to hear his views about Turkey and Turks in Germany. Turns out that while many Turks are quite religious, they are also very nationalistic and are consequently passionate about secularism. Apparently, more Turkish women will wear hejab in Köln than in Istanbul. The immigrants are prone to ghettoising to such a point that Hakan found it difficult to learn German (despite wanting to do so).

Flew in to Sabiha International around 3 am. Immigration was a joke. First went to a counter to buy a visa. The guy spoke no English, but had a list of nationalities and prices. Australian citizens - 20 Euro or USD for a 3 month visa, Polish citizens - 10 Euro or USD. Got out my Polish passport and 20USD. The guy didn't give me change - just a 3 month multiple entry visa. Then stood for 20 mınutes in a que. Reason: the dudes at the counters were a little slow with their computer skills. Got the guy to teach me how to say 'thanks' in Turkish.

So, it's 3 am, the airport is 18km from Kadıköy, Kadıköy is across the Bosfor strait from the centre and everything is probably closed anyway. I go to the ATM and get nothing - I'd used my imit for the day. I go to the exchange counter and give the dude 20Euro and ask him to re-teach me 'thank you'. He laughs at my attempt to speak Turkish. There's a 18AUD bus to the centre, but so what - what then?

I find a bench to sleep on. There's arm rails so I can only sit down. Two girls in hejab proceed to 'check me out'. Weird. Actually, the number of attractive women in Turkey is almost offensive.

Anyhow, I wake up at 5 am to the sound of cleaning equipment. Most of the lights are off. There's no planes until midday. The old guy opposite who was there 2 hours ago is still there, so I doze until 7 am and a brilliant sunrise breaking through the wall of glass overlooking the runway.

The dude who changed my money waves from the cafe. So I come and say 'hi', even though he speaks no English. Emrah, the cafe manager speaks English. There are no customers apart from a handful of peacekeepers flyıng to Afghanistan. About 7 young guys work the shift. In a few minutes they are giving me free coffee, asking about my non-existent girlfriend and playing me the latest Turkish MP3s off their flashy mobile phones.

At 9 am their shift ends and they offer to give me a lift to a bus stop. Soon, 5 of us are cruising through the outer burbs of Istanbul, techno pumping at full blast. Hills full of horrible 30 storey condominiums. Then 3 trees, 3 old men and 30 goats. Finally we fınd the bus at the stop and it ıs time to part.

The bus conductor is super friendly - helping everyone with their luggage, aiding the old to their seats. When I ask him where the Kadıköy ferry port is, he gently takes both of my hands in his and says something in Turkish.

The ferry across the Bosfor looks like it's about to sink. I have to jump across a 5o cm gap to get on. Great views of both sides of the city though.

Take a tram to Sultanahmet and get off to see the aforesaid mosque on one side, and the Aya Sofiya. Awesome. I find the youth hostel. The nutty owner, Ali, at first refuses to admit that he is the owner and proceeds to try to convince the equally nutty Australian, Rob that he is the owner. At 5 Euro per night - it's a true dive... everything fılthy with the exception of a new shower that has no hot water. Still, the Turkish ornamental tiles, a lıbrary (!) and a blaring TV with the latest Turkish video clıps make the place remarkably cozy.