Our first day’s sight-seeing in Istanbul ended with a meal and a wander around the Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque late at night in the course of which we saw a Whirling Dervish. We ate at a place recommended by friends, Amedros in Sultanahmet. A 10 minute walk from our hotel along a street full of people selling things – handbags, leather jackets, perfume, tea shirts, socks, underpants, hand-held sewing tools (looked like staplers), tissues (bought some), weigh-ins (this is an assumption, there was a man sitting on a stool with a set of bathroom scales in front of him – we didn’t see it in use). Crowds of people – lots of tourists but plenty of locals. The restaurant was full of tourists, the menu written in English and waters who spoke it, so easy and comfortable but perhaps not an authentic Turkish experience. But great mezzes – some familiar (hummus) some not (artichoke stuffed with walnuts) but all delicious. Then a boiled lamb dish with figs and almonds – very tender meat and mild flavour. We tried our first bottle of Turkish wine – red wine from around Ankara. We found it okay, but somehow thin. That may be the end of red wine drinking for a while. We were just two as our children had a better offer. We marveled that this should be so here in Istanbul.
After our meal we went on our wander. Lovely night, warm and still. Lots of people out and about. The fountain in the square turning different colours and shapes. Traders selling trinkets including little blue things they were flicking into the sky, women selling scarves and fantastic looking thick woolen bed socks. A crowd of people further along so we joined them. We were looking over the fence of a restaurant with an indoors section but most people were sitting at tables outside under the spreading branches of trees. Tourists and locals. Being served by tall thin waiters bustling too and fro with food and drinks. At some tables people were smoking through long pipes – in Turkey called the nargileh. It all reminded me of scenes from the first volume of Olivia Manning’s The Fortunes of War which is set in Rumania, but this is exactly what she described. Quite lovely.
And on a little stage above the seated patrons two men playing plaintive Turkish music and – the Whirling Dervish. He was amazing to watch. Moving steadily – not really fast (though faster than any of us could go!) – but it was the regularity that gave it the trance-like appearance, so smooth, graceful, hypnotic. Arms extended – one palm upwards (taking from my God) one palm downwards (to give to my people) – this explanation later from Patrick as he and Eleanor were experiencing the same thing further down the road, unbeknownst to us. White robes on the dervish undulating as he spins, head in it’s long hat tilted. You can see he moves only his right foot, the left stays in one spot. He’s walking around himself. Then he stops. And stands quite still, arms folded over his chest. Just like tat. And bows to the musicians. They sing a couple of songs while stands to the side, then we see him cross his arms over his chest and he is off again – steady, rhythmic, hypnotic. We were pleased to have stumbled across him.
Then we walked home. Across the Hippodrome, here for over a thousand years, where once chariot races were watched by 100,000 people seated in tiers. Joe is my walking encyclopedia. On past two Egyptian obelisks brought here hundreds of years ago. Back to the main drag. A bit of rain but it didn’t last so we didn’t get wet – just enough to make a street vendor’s life more difficult. Home, exhausted!
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