The trip over from Vancouver was a long 16 hours on British Airways, from Vancouver to London Heathrow (ten hours), then a connecting flight from Heathrow to Istanbul (six hours).

I needed some currency, so did the money changing thing at Heathrow just to have some local currency on arrival for taxi etc. I have 40 British pounds with me, and that buys me 90 million Turkish Lira (TL)! So, one dollar Canadian = roughly 1 million TL. I am a millionaire!

The Istanbul airport is spacious and beautiful, very modern and almost cavernous—mind you it is 2230 local time when I arrive. Taxi to the centre of the city is uneventful, the driver understands my instructions “Marmara Hotel” - and off we go. I am not oriented at all as we travel in the dark, there are hordes of people out on the streets, and it is a pleasant 22 or 23 degrees. The hotel is ready for me, and very nice indeed.

We are at the beautiful Marmara Hotel at Taksim Square, a bustling shopping area of the city. From the conference room on the 14th floor, we have a fabulous view over the Bosphorous, a stretch of water that connects the Mediterranean with the Black Sea, and that separates Europe from Asia (Istanbul is a city that straddles two continents). Its simply a ferry ride or over the bridge from where I am to set foot on another continent—will have to do that!

So now it’s a warm Sunday morning as I start out at 0730 with millions in my pocket—sounds good anyways! Let’s make the most of this single day before I head back to Vancouver tomorrow. First plan, to visit Asia! I walk down the hill from Taksim and along the waterside, its very pleasant but likely to be a hot day. The city is awake, but still calm and uncrowded, the air quite hazy today.

I find the ferry terminal at Besiktas—there are boats and ferries of all description and size going everywhere! The booth is clearly marked for my destination, Uskadar, and the fare 750,000TL. Grabbing my ticket, a boat is about to depart—no problem, just hop on (there is no gangway or gangplank!) and off we go. Up on the upper deck, it is a nice breeze in the morning sun as we make the 20 minute crossing. I step off onto Asian soil for the first time in my life, and stroll the Asian shore of the Bosphorous for an hour or so.

Then it’s time to head back to Europe, so I select a longer ferry ride on a larger boat, destination Eminonu, fare this time is 1 million TL (which turns out to be the standard fare for almost anything!). The ride is delightful, and the vistas of the skyline superb, as we head south along the water paralleling the city’s west side. Along the way, vendors come around with tea
and food served in real china cups and plates, even Coca Cola comes in the old style real glass bottles! Our dock at the other end is right at the Old City, where I will spend most of the rest of the day. Back on shore, the next stop is just a few steps away—the Sirbecki railway station. Not huge in terms of European stations, this one has roughly three tracks for mainline trains and four tracks for suburban services. This is the fabled terminal of the Orient Express, and the station platforms look the part with a pleasant platform restaurant and statuary at end of track. An 0-4-0 steam engine is on display out front.

I am there on a Sunday, so not so busy, but the suburban trains run every 30 minutes so a ride is in order. I don’t do well with the language in terms of recognizing destinations, so let’s just get on, ride for a while, then come back. The system uses tokens (I’ve figured out these are “Jeton”) and the fare—1 million TL. Turns out this is the fare regardless distance traveled.

The old style (1960’s vintage) French equipment is very spartan—hard plastic seats and no air conditioning. The ride is quite rough—electrified double track, but not in the best of shape. The service is efficient, though, and seems well patronized. Once the train gets going, a couple of young people approach one of the sliding doors, slides them open, and leans out for the breeze. Turns out to be the thing to do, as every train we pass has people leaning out the doors! I watch as we go for a possible photo spot, seeing one I hop off at a station about 30 minutes out, walk back and set up lineside for some photos.

Back to Sirbecki station on another set of similar equipment, and it’s noon. Time to de-water, then lunch and water the body, and we’re ready for more. Running right past the front of the station is street railway which operates what appear to be brand new articulated trams. I find the platform and purchase my “Jeton” - fare 1 million TL! Board the next train (two three car articulated sets) and find a seat. These are modern, air conditioned, quiet and comfortable through the heart of the Old City past the Blue Mosque, the Giant Bazaar etc. I ride out a couple of miles then walk back to take in the city’s sights and smells.

The walk back is most interesting, as the city is turning into a sea of humanity. The shops are bustling, and sidewalk vendors are everywhere. It is fascinating to me, but not the least bit un-nerving it turns out. I am shooting off lots of photos along the way, people are pushy at times wanting me to buy something, but always friendly—and sometimes, quite fun!

As I start to look around the Blue Mosque grounds (probably the most famous spot in the Old City), I am greeted by a young man in a full suit (on what is now a very hot day) who says he is a student and would like to practice his English. He persists with me and tours me around, an excellent tour guide, although not what I am after. I persist and do the things I want to do, but end up in a wonderful Turkish Carpet store. I have met the proverbial Turkish Carpet salesman! Its all in good fun, though—I assure him I have no intention of buying a carpet, he gives me his card and insists on a photo, and thanks me for helping him with his English!

Next stop is the fabulous Topaki Palace. I pay my general admission (10 million TL), and enjoy the grounds and buildings that are open to explore. The palace is set on the hilltop and has a fabulous view out over the entry to the Bosphorous, now a sea of boats and watercraft of all shapes and sizes. How they don’t crash into each other is beyond me! One in particular, heading our way, catches my eye. Could it be—yes it is a train ferry, loaded with freight cars connecting the railway between Europe and Asia. There must be a dock somewhere below.

I stroll back down to the sea, now seeking shade anywhere I can find it, and manage quite well by walking through the park instead of along a street. It is packed with people doing the things people do in parks all over the world—relaxing, eating, playing, walking etc. At the end of the park I must, however, join the street back to the docks at Eminonu, and it is hot and crowded. Along the way, however, I find the rail ferry dock and a 0-6-0 Diesel Hydraulic switch engine at work loading and unloading the ferry.

After assessing the crowd factor on the boats, I decide to walk across the Golden Horn bridge instead and then make my way back to Taksim Square. The bridge is very crowded as well, wide sidewalks accommodate the fishermen (which line the bridge on both sides—does a fish stand a chance here?) I make it across in the hot sun, find the shady side of the street, and seek out the funicular railway that goes up to Tunel. It turns out to be a very low profile place—a small sign marked Tunel at an open doorway.

Venturing in, I find a ticket booth where my “Jeton” costs 650,000 TL—putting it in the turnstile, I walk through a pedestrian tunnel and find the car awaiting me. The funicular railway car is like a single subway car, accommodates around 60 or 70 people, and is—of course—connected by cable with an identical car up at the other end. The bell signals departure and we are off, up hill underground, passing the other car in the middle of the run. It sure beats climbing the hill in the heat.

Its 1900 hours, and I’ve come full circle. Tunel is the destination sign on the vintage trams that I have seen leaving Taksim Square, right beside my hotel. They must be here—sure, there it is! I buy my ticket (1 million TL), and board the tiny tram. These are single truck wooden cars with a simple pantograph, operating on what appears to be metre gauge single track. They pass at scheduled passing track locations. The ride is classic—about 10 mph along what must be the busiest shopping street I have ever seen. The tram clangs its way along, and the sea of humanity that goes wall to wall miraculously parts as we trundle through. All the rights sounds accompany the ride—the creaking of the wooden car construction, the clanging of the classic streetcar bell, and the low whine of the electric motors.

Taksim Square is the end of the line—for the tram and for this writer. It has been one great Sunday. I’m hot, tired, but delighted at the day. Would I return to Istanbul? You bet, just give me the opportunity.