Travel Journal
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ISTANBUL: City of the World’s Dreams (PART II)
September 2023
By Sandra Bertrand
In Part One, Sandra and her partner, Joanne, set foot in Istanbul with their five senses (even the sixth) turned up full volume to experience its wonders. This was an audacious, if admirable, undertaking as the city has been ground zero to the world’s greatest empires. After sampling but a fraction of this embarrassment of riches, it was time to cross the mighty Bosphorus straits for a fresh take on their quest.
Uskudar
In Part One, Sandra and her partner, Joanne, set foot in Istanbul with their five senses (even the sixth) turned up full volume to experience its wonders. This was an audacious, if admirable, undertaking as the city has been ground zero to the world’s greatest empires. After sampling but a fraction of this embarrassment of riches, it was time to cross the mighty Bosphorus straits for a fresh take on their quest.
Uskudar
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If you don’t include a day trip up the Bosphorus to tour even more mosques and summer palaces, a short ferry ride from Eminonu Port to Uskudar on the Asian side is a delightful way to study the populace at work and play. A food vendor off the main square sold baked potatoes we stuffed with corn, olives, cheese, beets, and other options I’ve since forgotten. While we waited in line, a resident feline patiently posed for her portrait.
Fishermen napping with their lines fill the promenade along with vendors ready to tempt you with a colorful taffy treat or a photo op with a compliant parrot. Before the ride back, we stopped at Paci’s outdoor terrace for raspberry cheesecake and a chance to meditate on the exotic metropolis beyond. Beyoglu, a Bathhouse, and an Unfortunate Misstep The district of Beyoglu sits just north of the Golden Horn on a steep hill, easily accessible by taxi or tram. A red period tram travels the length of the main pedestrianized street. For centuries, it has been the favored residence for European powers and their embassies, maintaining its thriving international character. Our first visit was to the Pera Palace Hotel, a sumptuous Victorian Hotel that entertained the likes of Agatha Christie, Greta Garbo and Ian Fleming. I must confess we have a penchant for fine hotel bars, sipping martinis and soaking up an atmosphere redolent with the celebrated guests of yesteryear, otherwise beyond our budget. |
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Our return a few days later was the result of Joanne’s visit to an historic Turkish bathhouse (Hamami) built in 1580 and attached to the Kilic Ali Pasa Mosque. Adjacent is a lovely, abandoned fountain, its rooftop and small sunlit dome a charming discovery. It stands as another reminder of how the past interjects itself into the present reality, sending one – if only momentarily – a bit off-kilter. After wandering the neighborhood, picture-taking, then stopping for a Turkish coffee, I returned, where I was immediately ushered into the Hamami’s interior. A trio of clients lined the opposite wall, enjoying post-massage tea and sherbet. It’s a capacious space, with its ancient dome, central fountain and meditative music playing – a mosque-like experience without the eruption of prayer restrictions in a mosque visit.
As for the bath itself, it differs little from those of ancient Rome. After relaxing in the steam-filled hot room, bouts of soaping and massaging followed, absent the cold water plunge. When Joanne emerged, she wore a secretive smile, which made me promise myself to muster a “go for it” on a return visit. |
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While in Beyoglu on our last day, we had to make a passing acquaintance with the Galata Tower, a 196-foot wonder constructed in the sixth century to monitor shipping. After the Ottoman conquest in the 15th century, it was a prison and naval depot. In the 18th century, an ambitious Turk donned wings and “flew” from the tower to Uskudar. It must have been a hard landing, but if aeronautical buffs want to research the flight, be my guest. Today there’s a restaurant on the ninth floor with belly dancing. If the ticket line is a bit off-putting, you can relax in one of the sidewalk cafes within a heartbeat’s distance.
You may recall I began with a forewarning of planting feet on foreign soil. Was it the week’s adventure-seeking up and down steep cobblestone slopes? Or a decades-old weak ankle? I only know that while marching across the smooth pavement of Sultanahmet Square towards our hotel and our final packing, I went flying into the surrounding crowd, landing not on my head but hard enough to dislocate my right elbow. Sitting in the park ambulance, waiting for yet another one that would transport us to a local emergency hospital, I was relieved to see Joanne’s face in the open van door, the only part of my situation that seemed to make sense. I had another hour to stare at the strange angle my arm had assumed, with no conversation to be had with the two young non-English speaking technicians. Then I was whisked away. |
Galata Tower (Beyoglu)
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It's amazing how unforeseen events can warp one’s sense of time, even reality itself. Arriving at my next destination, I was x-rayed, laid on a gurney, watching strangers and even a stray cat wandering the hall outside. Within earshot, a wild-haired young doctor huddled with Joanne, remarking “very bad, very bad” in English. A short while later, I was anesthetized, and though I have never taken LSD, the next thing I knew their faces were like helium balloons bouncing off the wall, as light as I felt.
My arm was now in a cast, and I fantasized about our return to our small bedroom at Sublime Porte. More x-rays followed, only to reveal that my arm had dislocated once again. They had another go at it, with much discussion following. I thought of the lines from William Butler Yeats about the center not holding from The Second Coming. Was surgery even an option? Joanne asked if they had an international rep but probably already knew the answer. It was at that point that a young clinician noticed our distress. “Shall we go elsewhere, or shall we stay?” was the crux of the matter. All I knew was our New York City home was far away, and the thought of a precariously set arm jostled by airport security, with no promise of a quick fix upon my return, was inconceivable.
My arm was now in a cast, and I fantasized about our return to our small bedroom at Sublime Porte. More x-rays followed, only to reveal that my arm had dislocated once again. They had another go at it, with much discussion following. I thought of the lines from William Butler Yeats about the center not holding from The Second Coming. Was surgery even an option? Joanne asked if they had an international rep but probably already knew the answer. It was at that point that a young clinician noticed our distress. “Shall we go elsewhere, or shall we stay?” was the crux of the matter. All I knew was our New York City home was far away, and the thought of a precariously set arm jostled by airport security, with no promise of a quick fix upon my return, was inconceivable.
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Acibadem was the next word, becoming a mantra in my ears – a private hospital, with branches throughout the Middle East, just off Taksim Square, another district north of Beyoglu. Another ambulance to take me there; then more conversation whirling around my ears while Bahar, a friendly woman on the international desk, charged Joanne’s iPhone. More x-rays: then evening calls to the U.S. Embassy with no response followed by credit card calls to the U.S. to assure the amounts needed for the recommended operation; then at last, two surgeons around midnight appearing with the offer of imminent surgery. Such a possibility was never so imminent or conceivable! Twelve thousand U.S. dollars (!) later, a pittance by costs in the States, I was admitted, settled into an expansive and immaculate single room, complete with a bathroom worthy of a five-star hotel. The next morning, I underwent surgery to reattach the unhinged ligaments in my arm. Another night passed in my pristine digs with a hospital dinner worthy of any self-respecting Kebab house – we could now say our loving farewells to Turkey, rekindling our plans for sunny Crete as I began my road to recovery. |
I hope this experience will serve to reassure those mature readers who often harbor second thoughts about foreign travel. This does not mitigate the need for proper research into your desired destination, as well as the benefits of an international insurance plan. Fortunately, I had a loving partner to ease what could have seemed insurmountable (but not impossible) alone. And we are already planning our next itinerary!
Note: These places of interest cover both Part I and Part II of "ISTANBUL: City of the World's Dreams."
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PLACES OF INTEREST MOSQUES Hagia Sophia Sultan Ahmet, Ayasofya Meydanı No:1, 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 522 17 50 The Blue Mosque Binbirdirek, At Meydanı Cd No:10, 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye Suleymaniyah Mosque Sülaymaniyah Prof. Sıddık Sami Onar Cd. No:1, 34116 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 458 00 00 HAMAM (Turkish Bath and Massage) Kilic Ali Pasa Hamami Kemankeş Karamustafa Paşa, Hamam Sk. No:1, 34425 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 393 80 10 |
PLACES OF INTEREST PALACES Topkapi Palace Cankurtaran, 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 512 04 80 Dolmabahce Palace Vişnezade, Dolmabahçe Cd., 34357 Beşiktaş/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 236 90 00 The National Archaelogical Museums Cankurtaran 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 520 77 41 The Basilica Cistern Alemdar, Yerebatan Cd. 1/3, 34110 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 512 15 70 The Galata Tower Bereketzade, 34421 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 249 03 44 |
PLACES OF INTEREST RESTAURANTS Deraliye Alemdar Mahllesi Ticarethane Sk No 10, 34122 34122 Sultanahmet, Türkiye +90 212 520 77 78 Matbah Ottoman Hotel Imperial Cankurtaran, Caferiye Sk. No:6 D,134122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 574 61 51 Tria Elegance Cankurtaran, Terbıyık Sk. No:7, 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 518 45 18 Paci Lounge Mimar Sinan, Üsküdar Harem Sahil Yolu No:10 34668 Üsküdar/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 216 334 97 50 HOTELS Pera Palace Hotel Evliya Çelebi, Meşrutiyet Caddesi, Tepebaşı Cd. No:52, 34430 Beyoğlu/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 377 40 00 Sublime Porte Hotel Cankurtaran, Yeni Saraçhane Sk. No:5, 34122 Fatih/İstanbul, Türkiye +90 212 517 36 66 |
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Sandra Bertrand is an award-winning playwright and painter. She is Chief Art Critic for Highbrow Magazine and a contributing writer for GALO Magazine. Prior to working for Sanctuary as Travel & Culture Editor, Sandra was a Featured Artist in May 2019.
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