Istanbul is a gigantic town. I’m told that there are 13 million people living there, and what I notice right away is how light it is. For some reason, I was convinced that it was a city shrouded in darkness. I have no idea why, I just did, maybe because of the prejudices inherent in much of news and television, maybe because of my own biases, maybe because of pure ignorance, but it’s beautiful and sunny and light and warm. Mosques are airy, friendly and inviting, there are street vendors selling candies and mussels and nuts, people playing music and singing, trams and men with pushcarts scurrying by. There are seagulls everywhere, and the fish market is a bustling wonderland. Galata seems to have been adopted by many expats as their neighbourhood of choice, and little craft and art and candy stores line the whole stretch all the way to Taksim. Schoolboys mischievously hitch rides on the back of moving vehicles and poke passersby and giggle. The smell of baklava is everywhere and every street corner has a merchant with unique offerings. And people are very genuinely curious about tourists and not only engage in conversation, but keep it apolitical, respectful, friendly and light.
An enchanting experience, very humbling and very welcoming, amidst sophisticated, genuine and unbelievably warm people.