One of my favorite things about living in Istanbul was being able to take a ferry to so many places, to football, to Mini-a-turk, to the beach, or just as a guided tour. It was fantastic to travel the merger of three bodies of water (the Bosporus Strait, the Golden Horn, and the Sea of Marmara). So I decided on one last ferry boat ride back to my home near Kabatas from the beach at Heybeli Ada to write about my experience. I've included photos taken throughout the year on my various rides--day and night--all over the area. Enjoy. And when you are Istanbul, ride the ferry.
It winds and rises, creeping along with infinite meters as if the city never ends and the whole world has become one long and continuous civilization.
The sea is calm on the southern coast no sign of distant tankers and the rapid crossings of ferries, fishing boats.
and the tankers congregate in the distance: a queue of ocean freighters and fishing boats anchored between the seas.
The city goes on for hours, mosques
and minarets, condos and towers. It
snakes along the coast like a ship fearing the open sea.
The crash of waves against the prow, the rumble of
an out-of-date engine, the subdued chatter of sun-streaked vacationers and the
almost silent cocooning of the wind. All noises pass. Only sound remains. An endless hum. Invigorating and calming.
To the south a lone and tranquil sailboat rocks
in the early evening waves
The fog cloaks the eastern shore and the towers break through a mass of black gently rising from the from the blue-green sea.
The masses of modern structures come into focus. Their white facades interrupted
intermittently by the blazing red of national pride, billowing waves of crimson
against man-made white immobility and the sporadic green of trees too tired
in years to succumb to these coastal breezes.
The domes are clear now as the afternoon sun wanes, melting into the
sea. The water swells and rocks as it
merges into the briny traffic dividing the continents. The silhouette of the
old city stands, an ancient landmark in the heat-induced fog, a vista from a
distance untouched for hundreds of years.
The clear and close western coast parades modern hotels, cafes and signs
of industry,
but the shadows of the sun and the steam of the sea hangs on the
curves and peaks of empires discernible in the distance.
Now the western coast welcomes us with the
turrets and bricks of the early-twentieth century train depot. A relic of
bustling industry, a monument alluding to a romantic orientalist
narrative.
And the eastern shore begs
the viewer to gaze into the sun. It’s
location in modernity belied only by the moles and freighters that stand and
pass between. Pristine and captured in time immemorial it awaits an artist’s
brush, a photographer’s eye.
And while
the iron works of sky-reaching cranes hug the west, all eyes remain transfixed
to the east as the narrow oceanic lane widens once more giving view to the
expanding history of the city. Or perhaps
a history of expansion. A cloister of minarets, each cluster rivaling its
neighbors dispersing for bridges, for a stalwart tower, for the boxed roof tops
of economic development…
and only then is the gaze broken as one last piece of
history calls from the west. A solitary
tower, an island on the nautical highway. Blazing red pride at its peak. It is
by no underestimation quaint. Simple
and being of some great story, a romance, a heroine, a forbidden love, but in
its background brick and mortar residences, cement intrusions into the fairy
tale, while picturesque and welcome wooden structures line the shore.
A final suspended vestige of connectivity, a symbol of east meeting west
greets the viewer as we glide into the dock.
The vertical strings of lights begin to glow as the sun reflects off
passing cars. The sea is calm once more
and my feet must meet the land.
We turn. And
the eastern coast is the poster child of modernism, westernization at its best
and worst, the box factory style buildings housing the wealth of modern art,
the red tiled roofs of the university, all spotted through the high-rises of
the seas, cruise ships at port for the day.
The ferry ride at night...
