Turkish Delight
“ If the Earth were a single state, Istanbul would be its Capital ”
– Napoleon Bonaparte.
It’s many years since that first visit.
I had claimed all my time of in lieu after weeks of long shifts, booked several weeks off work, and bought an under 26 rail ticket across Eastern Europe.
After a flight to Frankfurt, the train journey began; from Germany, through The Czech Republic, on to Romania and across Bulgaria.
I’d booked accommodation for some of the time but chosen to do most of the cross border journeys overnight. We were robbed on one of them, I think it was travelling into Varna, on Bulgaria’s coast. Bags had been taken from the overhead shelf. Cross body bags had been silently snipped off the other travellers. Luckily, I was left alone, curled up in the corner of the cabin, zipped into a sleeping bag, with my money and passports down by my feet.
The final leg of the trip went over the Turkish border. In the middle of the night we were marched off the train by local police and sent to a small immigration office on the train station. A full page visa was stuck into my passport, of the Turkish flag. I remember thinking that it was the most impressive ‘stamp’ in my passport at the time.
Our train terminated at Istanbul. This bedraggled traveller disembarked and made her way to the taxi rank. The year was 95, pre-e mails, pre-cell phones. I was meeting a good friend in Istanbul and I’d had no message from her about which hotel she had booked for us. I thought of my friend and tried to guess what she would have chosen. And in that moment I recalled a recent TV ad campaign:
“Take me to the Hilton”
As I uttered the words to a taxi driver, he took one look at me and smirked. I had been travelling for weeks across Eastern Europe. My jacket and rucksack were dirty. He did his best to contain his amusement and obliged, popping the boot open for my luggage.
I don’t remember the journey. I do remember the scream of delight in the fancy, hotel foyer as my friend, reclined in a comfy, reception chair with her paperback, spotted me arriving and ran over to hug me hello.
That was the start of several days together, at souks, mosques and around the Bosphorus. We had a great time together, in this vibrant city that straddles both Europe and Asia. But the downside of the trip was being under scrutiny of the men. We had dressed modestly, with arms and shoulders covered. But everywhere that we went there was, let’s say, a little too much attention and lewd ‘offers’.
The years passed. And I said to myself that one day I would return, older and with a man.
Fast forward to today.
Have you travelled back to a place after many years? How has it changed?
© Maggie M / Mother City Time