Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
My hotel's inviting terrace was open at night, ideal for gazing past l oodlit
husks of forts and walls, out at the sleepy Bosphorus, with Asia lurking just
across the inky straits. h e strategic waterway was speckled with the lights
of freighters at anchor stretching far into the distance.
Noticing the power of the moonlight shimmering on the water, I recalled
the legend of the Turkish l ag—a white star and crescent moon rel ected in a
pool of bright-red blood after a great and victorious battle. From my perch, it
seemed that now the crescent moon shone over not blood, but money: trade
and shipping…modern-day battles in the arena of capitalism.
At breakfast, the same view was lively, and already bright enough to
make me wish I had sunglasses. An empty oil tanker heading for a Romanian
i ll-up was light and riding high. Its exposed tank made its prow cut through
the water like a plow—a reminder of how, today, trade is sustenance and oil
is a treasured crop. As I scanned the city, it occurred to me that Istanbul is
physically not that dif er-
ent from my home city. I
could replace the skyline
of domed mosques and
minarets with churches
and spires, and it could
be the rough end of Any
Port City, USA.
Rather than my
standard bowl of cereal,
for my Turkish breakfasts
I go local—olives, goat
cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, bread, and a horrible instant orange drink
masquerading as juice. Gazing at my plate, I studied the olive oil. Ignoring
the three olive pits, I saw tiny, mysterious l akes of spices. h ey were doing a
silent and slow-motion do-si-do to a distant rhythm with lyrics that told of
arduous camel-caravan rides along the fabled Silk Road from China.
Later that day, I immersed myself in Turkey, collecting random memo-
ries. Wandering under stiletto minarets, I listened as a hardworking loud-
speaker—lashed to the minaret as if a religious crow's nest—belted out a
call to prayer. Noticing the twinkling lights strung up in honor of the holy
month of Ramadan, I thought, “Charming—they've draped Christmas
lights between the minarets.” But a Turk might come to my house and say,
