For the first mosque I have ever visited, I chose the Blue Mosque, so named for the blue tiles covering the interior. Unfortunately, its grandeur draws the tourist hoards who are incessantly piling off buses and following a guide holding up a little flag so no one gets lost. I queued up with the masses, took off my shoes, put them in a plastic bag, and went in. I was happy to see that the visitors are restricted to one side so that you get an unblemished view of the rest of the enormous and grand mosque. I love the large metal light frames, in various designs, that hang low over the floor to provide a subdued light. The support wires go straight up to the very high ceiling to avoid a bunch of angled wires that would confuse the view of painted and tiled ceiling. The many high windows and lights coupled with the light colored tiles makes for a pleasant cheery atmosphere that is a nice change from the slew of dreary and oppressive churches I have seen.
I sat in my socks for about half an hour on the prayer carpet and enjoyed the view, doing my best to block out the fast moving armies of consumerism. The tour people have very little time. They spew out of the buses, fly through the sites, snap some photos, buy some overpriced trinkets, and then they are gone to see the next wonder. Most of the people in the mosque were from one of the behemoth cruise ships parked in the harbor. I can see the desire and convenience of a guided tour, and have taken small ones myself, but I much prefer the luxury of taking as much or as little time as I need to absorb the wonders of the world. On the way out I was surprised to see the number of people that threw their shoes onto the mat that was covered with pictures and signs saying “no shoes here.”
Next, I went over to the Hagia Sofia, a former church converted to a mosque, now a museum. The size of the place is truly overwhelming. Pictures do not do it justice. It would be better if you read about it on Wikipedia. I won’t even try to pathetically describe it other than to say it is refreshingly un-restored for the most part, and it blew my mind how big it was. When I get up the gallery, you will see.
Next I walked the 5 blocks to the Grand Bazaar. At first it is a nice neat collection of more expensive looking shops arranged down long covered streets. My initial disappointment was eased as I plunged in the warren of little shops behind. Even as cluttered and small as the alleyways were, they stayed on a grid pattern so it was easy to keep my bearings. I saw many things I wanted to buy, but self-control and the knowledge that I would have to carry it, won out. That is until I went out of the official covered area into the back streets with less official vendors.
Even though I do not wear a watch when I travel, I am a watch whore. I am always looking. I could not pass up a lovely large Panerai Luminor with an azure bezel. I decided what I wanted to spend and stuck to it, trying to walk away a few times as the vendor called me back. He tried his best, but I did not budge. He seemed upset but he sold it to me for half of what I paid for similar ones in Brasil. I managed to avoid the rug merchants completely in Istanbul, a major accomplishment.
On the way back to the hostel there were several outdoor cafes that had a band and a whirling dervish spinning and spinning. It is fascinating to watch them. For a while anyway. They spin and spin and spin with their arms out, head cocked to one side, and skirt flying out in a large cone. That is all they do. The music was nice.
