July 10, 2008 – Josh Levinger

After arriving in the morning, we trekked to our hotel. It’s in the touristy backpacker zone, but a little bit away from the central madness. In an incredibly cute wooden house, on a narrow cobblestone lane. Dropped our stuff, and went out for lunch at a place of Hannah’s choosing, and she couldn’t have done better.

The Blue Mosque

The rooftop terrace at DoyDoy (stupid name, excellent food), had an amazing view of the Blue Mosque. About halfway through our meal, which was a welcome change from the heaviness of Balkan food, the midday call to prayer began. While this was old hat to the other diners, who were mainly businessmen, we were pretty astonished. The warbling tones sound so similar to Jewish prayers, it’s a wonder we can’t all get along. Why can’t we focus on the things that unite us, like falafel?

Then we went to the underground cistern, which was famously used as a chase scene in From Russia with Love.

In the Cistern

While there are walkways instead of just boats now, it’s still an amazing place. Just meters below the surface of the city, there’s a cavernous space supported by columns reappropriated from ancient temples. It’s dimly lit by red and yellow spotlights, and the arabic music adds to the ambience. Tried to get some pictures of the reflections, but without a tripod it’s darn near impossible.

Above ground again, we ventured into the Blue Mosque.

Hannah veiled

Hannah claims this is the most spiritual place she’s been, and I think it gives Notre Dame a run for its money. The dome isn’t as big as that in St Peters, but the airy design gives a better sense of the space. And because there are lights around head level, it brings things back to a human scale. The Ottomans certainly win this engineer’s admiration.

Had dinner at an excellent fish restaurant right near our hotel. Hannah sure can pick ’em, fancy cars kept arriving at the valet. I tried to get them to bring me their most expensive car for us to depart, but without a make and model they were unwilling to bring it around. Seriously, excellent fresh snapper makes me much happier than yogurt covered whatever. I could get used to this.

Got up bright and early in Skopje, and prepared for our journey to the East. Our train to Nis departed at 6am, and was supposed to arrive at 11, in plenty of time for our connection to Istanbul. But thanks to the Macedonian rail service, we sat in a railyard for two hours, making our connection much tighter. Luckily, the connecting train to Istanbul was also late, so we had plenty of time to stock up on supplies (water, pretzels and chocolate, we weren’t brave enough to eat prepackaged train station sandwiches).

Serbian mountain pass

The hero shot

Our long ride to Istanbul involved two cabin switches, and some late night border crossings. The accomodations in the regular cars seemed fine, but the cars kept being disconnected from the train at the station, so we would be woken from our slumber and moved to another car. This is the reason to buy a sleeper, not because it is necessarily any more comfortable. On one of the swaps, I appear to have lost my cell phone, which made me angry more than anything else. I got another in Turkey, spending twice as much for a phone that is half as good.

Turkish Sunflowers

Arrival

We did have an interesting experience at the Bulgarian/Turkish border. They informed us, at 2am that we could no longer ride on the train because our car would be disconnected and there were only sleeper cars going to Istanbul. We got up to purchase sleeper seats, but just then the border guard took our passports. The train conductor demanded them minutes later, to allow us to upgrade our seats. We followed the man with the gun, deeming his access to our documents more important. However, he tired of us following him through the train, and told us to stay. Thus, we waited in the hallway for fifteen minutes, to be told that we could no longer loiter. We bought the sleeper supplement without documentation, by flashing some of our emergency cash, got a cabin that was only mildly more comfortable, and hoped we would get our passports back eventually. We did just before the train pulled off, as the Bulgarian guard greeted us with “friends!”, and we collapsed in relief. Of course, we were awakened minutes later to stand in line at the Turkish border for a visa, but this all went without a hitch.

Seven hours later, we pulled into Istanbul at Sirecki Gar. Tired, smelly, and finally in Istanbul.

Adventures at home, abroad, and online

Day: July 10, 2008

Istanbul