Today marks the third week I've been in Istanbul and I still haven’t seen everything I wanted. The city is massive, full of excellent food to sample, incredible sights to visit, and stellar nightlife to keep you entertained for months on end. While I still have much to see, I hit the ground running and, as promised, here is the rest of my story from my very first full day in Istanbul. Starting from where I left off in my last post, my compatriots, Alex and Zoheb, and I had just finished our prayer in the Sultan Ahmed Mosque were off to continue our exploration of Istanbul.
The city of Istanbul is many things, but boring is not one of them. After two and a half weeks of living in the city, there are still areas I have yet to explore even though I spend my days walking around town for miles at a time. Of all the wondrous things I experienced during my visit, nothing was quite as unique as the view from across the Galata Bridge in the middle of town.
One of the greatest thrills I get out of traveling is the chance to finally see all of the cities, monuments, and attractions that I only heard about on TV or saw in textbook pictures. From Big Ben in London to the Louvre in Paris or the Parthenon in Athens, I’ve experienced the feeling dozens of times before, but there is one building in particular that stands out in my mind as the quintessential monument that I felt would forever remain just a picture - the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. At first glance, it may seem a bit strange that out of all the monuments in the world, this Byzantine church, turned mosque, turned museum holds the number one spot in my mind, but it's all the result of an unexpected class I took years ago back in high school.
My arrival into Istanbul from Plovdiv showed me just how far I've come with regard to traveling; things that terrified me early on in my trip simply rolled off my shoulders. Every time I arrive into a new country there is a flurry of activity, strange new customs, and numerous unknowns that I have to problem solve around until I finally arrive at my next hostel. Ironically, what I am beginning to understand about traveling is that the more issues and unknowns I face, the more entertaining traveling is for me. I know this strategy tends to backfire on me from time to time, but even then at least I have a story.
After spending the last several days in relative isolation in Belgrade, my experience in Sofia, Bulgaria was a breath of fresh air. The city is remarkably well kept and, even though the architectural styles of the communist era leave much to be desired, the buildings throughout town create an excellent atmosphere for aimless strolling. Sofia is an enormous city full of fantastic people, great food, and a thriving nightlife, but best of all, it's dirt cheap and a haven for backpackers trying to stick to a budget. There are plenty of attractions to entertain travelers both young and old alike, and even after spending a week in this great city, I still didn’t have enough time to see everything I wanted.
During my stay in Belgrade I found a variety of great restaurants, bars, and attractions scattered throughout the city, but the most interesting activity for me was a visit was the Nikola Tesla museum. The relatively modest, seven-room museum tells the story of Tesla’s life, his remarkable inventions, and exhibits a rotating collection of his personal effects. I’ve seen more museums than I care to count at this point in my life, but in honor of my Tesla-mad friend, Artyom, who I went hitchhiking with a few months back I felt it prudent to visit.
I’m going to admit, much to my embarrassment, that I knew next to nothing about the history of Serbia (or any other country in the Balkan Peninsula for that matter) prior to my arrival in Belgrade. Back in grade school, the Yugoslav Wars were either glossed over or marginalized to a couple paragraphs in textbooks that teachers tended to skip regardless. This was partly because the conflict was still ongoing and the "history" had yet to be written, but I felt ashamed for my ignorance on the topic considering I was traveling through the region. Thankfully, my tour through Belgrade proved to be an excellent place to learn about the history of the former Yugoslavia.
Of all the historical events, eras, and sagas taught in grade school history classes, none is more rigorously discussed that the Second World War and, more specifically, the atrocities of the Holocaust. While I learned a great deal about topic during my formal education, sadly the vast majority of my knowledge developed solely out of a need to pass an exam. I remember hearing unbelievably emotional stories from friends who visited concentration camps such as Auschwitz and vowed to visit at least one of these camps during my lifetime. More than a simple social obligation, I felt the need to see Auschwitz with my own two eyes to gain a better understanding of the events that transpired in this region of the world. Since the poster child for atrocities committed during WWII - Auschwitz II Birkenau - is located just outside of Krakow, I could not leave Poland without a visit.
I can’t seem to get enough of Germany. There is just something about this great country that I find fascinating. It might be that everything here is so much cheaper than the rest of Europe, that transportation is wonderfully efficient, that a beer cost as much as a bottle of soda, that the food is spectacular, or that the people here are so welcoming, but damn if I'm not in love with this country. From Ireland, I booked a cheap flight to Oslo for €20, but once I realized how absurdly expensive Norway is, I was not keen on spending the next month of my life hemorrhaging money in Scandinavia. I debated returning to Germany, until a friend of mine from the US, Jon, told me he had one week off between jobs and wanted to visit Berlin. I was all too happy to skip my flight to Oslo and book a new flight to Germany at the last minute.
Since this blog’s inception, I've made it a point to write every entry from my perspective at the time when the events/adventures occurred. Even though these entries are now many, many months behind their respective dates, I always try to stay true to the moment even it means stating things I know do not occur in the future. Initially, this long turnaround rate was a severe thorn in my side, but I’ve come to appreciate the delay in publishing my stories to the public domain as it gives me the chance to personally relive the tales as well edit for content or length. Now that I’ve finally reached my trip to Dublin though, I find myself in a bit of a quandary and feel it necessary to break from tradition.
