Istanbul in the Mirror

Yesterday we bid a fond farewell to Istanbul, at least until our return home, when we have a brief layover at the new airport. Incidentally, this airport is huge — it’s called Istanbul Havalimanı, so I decided to look up who this new airport was named after. Turns out, Havalimanı simply means airport in Turkish. Ok then. Very creative, gang!

Some of the great staff from our Istanbul hotel, wearing Liz’s backpack

We bid farewell to the wonderful crew working at Le Petit Palace, our hotel in the old section of the city. There’s something a bit magic about the hospitality industry in this city. I mean, there is a literal sort of magic, hand-wavey situation going on where things just happen on your behalf and you don’t notice it. We were happy to be returning to this place, where we stayed almost exactly two years ago.

Airport transfer magic is the best, where we just get handed off from person to person and somehow eventually make it to our hotel without ever having to pay additional $$ or be accosted. When you arrive at the end of a long overnight flight, you are at your most vulnerable. You’re tired and nervous, so successful transitions are to be treasured.

Other magic is the random people with whom you meet and have conversations. A lot of these conversations probably start as long plays, where they’re hoping that a certain percentage might come back to their rug shop or want to have a personal tour guide later on, but more often than not they are able to read the room pretty well. It feels more nuanced than you’d expect in a situation like this and there isn’t a bitterness or anger when that doesn’t pay off for them.

President Ataturk scanning the Straights of the Bosphorus

A big percentage of every day in Istanbul was walking around. exploring and observing the people and neighborhoods. We had Turkish coffee at six or seven different places, including some shops that were over fifty years old in buildings/structures that were hundreds of years old. We got lost in the twists and turns of the Grand Bazaar with over 4000 shops, many with similar inventories. How can these businesses all survive and differentiate themselves?

Tim in front of a carpet/map of Istanbul at the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts

More than anything, it seems like the Turkish people we’ve met really appreciate humor and human interactions. We smiled and laughed a lot and really feel like we were having conversations that mattered. We come away from Istanbul with a deeper appreciation for its people and cultures, to the extent that we met them.

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