Istanbul: the Bosphorus!

On the sunniest afternoon of our stay, we ventured off-land and onto a boat cruise of the Bosphorus Strait. The Bosphorus runs through the middle of Istanbul, separating the European side from the Asian side. The cruise gave us to see what was along the shoreline on both sides and we even got to go to Asia for some delicious yogurt!

European side

another palace

my travel-mates and I 

(plus the Bosphorus Bridge)

an old fortress

the Asian side

Istanbul really was a wonderful place to go. I'd recommend it to anyone and would love to go back one day!

More Istanbul

After a morning at the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, and Roman Cisterns, we spent our afternoon at Topkapi Palace (try saying that 5 times fast because I could barely get it out 1 time slowly). The palace grounds are made up of many beautiful buildings which have all been converted into various museums. The museums were full of interesting exhibits and artifacts. There were lots of jewels, pottery, clothing from the Ottoman empire, and many other things. I even saw Moses’ cane, John the Baptist’s skull and forearm (or what’s left of it), and Abraham’s pot. Or at least that’s what the plaques told me I saw and I wanted to believe. Unfortunately there were no pictures allowed. Luckily I could take the pictures of the gorgeous grounds and views from the grounds along with some of the intricately decorated rooms on display. I’ve already decided that my first home will be full of Turkish tiling.

Outside the palace entrance

palace entrance

view of the Bosphorus

We affectionately referred to our second morning in Istanbul as our “bazaar” morning (it makes more sense when you say it out loud). Istanbul is famous for its enormous bazaars packed with thousands of vendors who sell everything from Prada wallets to pashminas to evil eye earings. And, of course, pottery. Lots and lots and lots of pottery. It is literally a maze of brightly lit and decorated corridors that make it easy to get sucked into shopping and not so easy to get out.

So we started with the biggest and the most famous: the Grand Bazaar. It was quite an experience. Aggressive sales techniques were at their peak and we had fun navigating the practice of haggling with vendors. We all bought plenty to pack our suitcases full.

one of the many entrances

The following morning we visited Istanbul's other famous bazaar: the Spice Bazaar. At this point, we were shopped out and our suitcases were packed to the brim, so we did much more browsing than buying. But, it was once again an experience.

Istanbul, not Constantinople

I made it to the outer edges of Europe (and even a little into Asia) last week in my voyage to Istanbul, Turkey. It was a very interesting city with, as we all learned in school, a lot of history. To be in a place that traces its history back to B.C. was a very cool experience.

It could not have been more different than French culture. I knew it the minute we checked into the hotel when the man at the desk looked slowly at each of our passports, read our names allowed, then looked at us and said (read with thick Turkish accent), "I may have to change my name to Charlie because you are all angels."

Generally, people (and by that, I mean men) were extremely forward. Store owners stood almost exclusively outside of their stores and yelled for everyone who walked by to come in. And they don't ask; they demand. Or they beg and plead. Some of our favorite cries were: "Why are you breaking my heart?!" or "Why do you hate me? I know you hate me, but why!" But, for what it's worth, they were also extremely friendly. If we did go into a shop, they would ask our names (which some remembered as we walked by two or three days later), where we're from, what we'd seen in Istanbul, if we were enjoying ourselves, etc. Within a few hours in Turkey, one vendor declared himself our first Turkish friend.

So overall it was a great experience and a lot of fun. I managed to take close to 400 pictures in the 4 days we were there, so here are some of the highlights:

Our first stop was the Blue Mosque, which is Istanbul's oldest mosque. It was built in the early 1600s under the Ottoman Empire. It is called the Blue Mosque because its interior decorations are mostly blue.

The Blue Mosque was less than a five minute walk from our hotel so we passed it often and it was always an exciting sight to see. We also had the pleasure of experiencing its call to prayer, which involves a man calling out over a loudspeaker 5 times a day, including what we guessed to be around 5am although none of us managed to check a clock.

Across the street from the Blue Mosque is arguably Istanbul's most famous sight:  the Hagia Sophia (or Saint Sophia). It was built under the order of Emperor Justinian in 537. It served as a Christian Cathedral for 900 years until it was converted to a Mosque in the 1400s. Today, it is a museum.

Our third stop was also right across the street at the Roman Cisterns. The Cisterns are ancient underground columns. It was very dark so it was hard to get good pictures, but it was really beautiful.

One of the mysteries of the Roman Cisterns are two columns with giant sculpted heads of Medusa at the base. It is unknown how they got there. People also wonder about the positions of the heads. One is upside down, while the other is on its side.

I have many more pictures and sights to share, but along with all of those I brought back a nasty Turkish virus with me so I am going to take a break and blog more tomorrow!

Carnivale à Paris

Due to a recent misplacement of my camera charger, I've gotten a little behind on blogging. So here's a catch up from last weekend:

Sunday was Paris's Carnivale parade to celebrate Mardi Gras. It packed with colorfully-dressed dancers, singers, clappers, drummers, and the like who paraded through the city of Paris. There was lots of confetti and friendly people so it was a lot of fun.

the beginning of the parade

red heart balloons for V-Day

In addition to all of the fun, it was a beautiful sunny day and the perfect way to spend Valentine's Day in Paris!

I Pompi-did it.

I can cross one more thing off my New Year's Resolution List:

5.      Visit the Centre Pompidou

I visited the gigantic national museum of modern art this afternoon and, as expected by these types of museums, I was intrigued, disgusted, confused, and amused from top to bottom of the museum's six floors.  We weren't able to get into one of the exhibits (more accurately: we decided not to pay for it) and instead wandered the less costly portions.  This included the museum's permanent collection and an exhibit called "elles@centrepompidou," which featured female contemporary artists.

Wall at the "elles@centrepompidou" exhibit entrance

The permanent collection included:

Jackson Pollack

Matisse

Chagall

....and this cool waterfall-inspired sculpture whose artist I don't remember.

Three down, Seventeen to go

11.   Run in le Parc Buttes Chaumont

a picture of "le parc" back in September

After moving to a new place, certain mysteries are bound to come up.  For instance, in Paris, I still don't know why there is always running water in the gutters of the street on my walk to the Metro each morning or how to figure out the bus system (an addition to my New Year's resolutions list).

But perhaps the greatest mystery has been the Parisian runner. I see him in every park in Paris, but I have no idea how he gets there. I don't see him in the street or on the Metro. But somehow, he gets to the park and he gets home. Sometimes I even peak into phone booths just to see if there's a Superman-inspired wardrobe change into work-out clothes happening. There never is.

This is part of what has kept me from attempting to exercise in Paris (the other part being laziness). There seems to be a taboo against being in public in any article of clothing that even resembles something someone might wear to a gym. And if you're wearing any sneakers that aren't Converses, don't even think about leaving your apartment.

But, after 5 months in this city, I am officially in the worst shape of my life. So, on this second of two sunny days in a row (for the first time in months!), I decided to suck it up and go for a run.

With my Under Amour on and my Nikes double-knotted, I headed to the Metro, keeping an eye out for anyone else of my kind. No one.  I rode the Metro and ignored the strange looks I got the entire way there.  Finally, I climbed the 5 million stairs out of the Metro and into the park. And what did I see? At least 50 runners coming towards me.

How did they get there?!

I did my run.  I tried not to die (in case you're wondering the "buttes" of Parc Buttes Chaumont translates to "hills." they are not kidding.) And I headed home on the Metro, once again the sole soul clad in lycra.

So far, my only solution to this mystery is that Parisians have figured out how to teleport. But now I'm too tired to think about it.

my tired feet

Two down, Eighteen to go

4.      Visit the Musée Marmottan Monet

I finally got to the Musée Marmottan Monet last Sunday to see its Fauves & Expressionistes exhibit.  Unfortunately, no photos were allowed inside.  But, it featured artists from Kandinsky to Renoir.  The works were full of color, which was nice on yet another gray winter day.

Fortunately, sidewalk pictures are always allowed, so here are a couple photos of the front of the museum:

And before I knew about the no photos rule, one of the museum's donors caught my eye. Check out the bottom line of this plaque!

An ocean away, I'm never far from home.