After a pleasant trip to Eminönü, I left the hotel early the next morning for breakfast in a small traditional café. Although today is Monday, there are not many people on the street. As I ate, I kept an eye on where I was going next, something I'd been planning for months.
Two museums and a royal confectionery
Beyoehlu is one of the loveliest neighborhoods in Istanbul, with each street having a different character but with the same effortless elegance. As I strolled along the path, I pretended to be a foreigner living in beautiful houses on both sides of the street. I'm fantasizing about my favorite area to live in, which neighborhood grocery store will be my top choice for milk and eggs, which café will let me drop by for coffee and croissants, and which cat will let me pass by every day and offer me a thing or two.
I am walking towards the Museum of Innocence, a realistic tribute to Nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk for his novel of the same name. This is the first book I have ever read written by one of Turkey's most popular authors, and what an amazing work it is. The author's description of Istanbul society in that period blends perfectly with the tragic narrative of a man's fascination with a woman beyond his reach. When I read that Pamuk really created a physical representation for his protagonist to pay homage to his lover, I knew I had to check it out.
Upon arriving in Turkey, I learned that the museum was temporarily closed due to the pandemic (2019). Still, I went to it with no hope that it might reopen to the public. Unfortunately, this is not fate. I tried not to disappoint myself too much and decided to leave after taking a few pictures.
At this point, I turned around and came face to face with an antique shop. While this was by no means the only one in Beyoğlu, it seemed like a perfect coincidence to find one where I was standing: a museum to replace one I couldn't visit. I spent half an hour exploring the cave-like interior to the soft melody of the background music "Quran Chanting."
Audio tapes, bags, jewelry, clothes, stacks of books and maps, vinyl records, gadgets in small boxes, prayer beads of all colors and sizes, sunglasses, watercolors, old winter clothes, black-and-white photographs of ancient mysteries, and much more. It's a place full of treasures, worth a long read and a great way to spend a morning.
Later, I returned to Independence Avenue to drink cappuccino and found a message waiting for me from a Turkish friend I wanted to meet, Kerim. He suggested that we meet at an elegant restaurant near Taksim Square and eat a quinoa and avocado salad, and we learned about each other over the past few years.
After lunch, Kerim took me for dessert at a chic rooftop pastry shop on Independence Avenue, where we had pistachio baklava and ice cream. As we sipping tea, I asked him for advice on getting some good Turkish delight or lokum from dozens of shops lining the street. He told me that in terms of quality and flavor, he would only recommend one, Hacı Bekir.
In 1777, Hacı Bekir Effendi opened a small shop selling his sweets, mainly lokum and hard candy; Over time, fame for his products reached the ears of the Sultan, leading him to be appointed chief confectioner of the palace in 1820. Since then, this agency has been serving generations of loyal customers. We walked into their store and found shelves filled with jars of glittering, colorful candy. After we tasted some, we ended up buying a large box with a variety of sweets as a gift for the family.
When we later parted ways, I thanked him for giving his time so generously and we promised to stay in touch. That night, I also met another acquaintance, a professor at Istanbul University, whom I met a few years ago at a meeting of the Islamabad Organization. We spent a few hours drinking coffee and had a very productive discussion about Istanbul University's academic issues.
After that, I had some dinner and went back to my hotel. As I opened the window to let the night breeze blow in, I heard late-night revelers singing "Ciao Bella," the famous Italian national anthem, in restaurants a few doors away. I was so happy that I joined them and sang the lyrics in Italian on the windowsill, which made me feel energized, after which I went to bed with a satisfied giggle.
Old neighborhood and final goodbye
The next morning, I woke up early and knew very well that it was my last day in Turkey. I took the subway straight to the Grand Mosque of Hagia Sophia to do my final prayers. Walking to the mosque in the foggy morning light, I couldn't help but think of my first day in this place a month ago. I remember back then I had much less confidence in myself than I do now, but just as excited.
In the overcrowded hall, I prayed and lingered afterward, unwilling to leave. In an hour or so, it will be filled with tourists from dozens of countries. But I want to remember what it looks like, as I saw during Fajr and evening (Isha) prayers, with only a handful of worshippers reveling in the privacy provided during those hours.
The next stop is Balat, Istanbul's Jewish quarter. After a few tram stops and a taxi, I came to Velvet Cafe, a restaurant I found online for breakfast. Its alluring façade leads to the most glamorous interior layout.
This aesthetic, combined with the soft jazz playing in the background, immediately plunged me into a velvety sense of ease. I asked for breakfast with all the traditional features and sat down at a table in the back. Behind me, there was a stained glass door that led to a lovely covered yard.
The food was good, but what really made the meal almost perfect was its ambience. The café is run by a young team whose members obviously have a good ear for music and an eye for decoration. Afterwards, I take a quick stroll through the well-designed streets of the area, leisurely through the alleys of brightly colored houses, interspersed with comfortable-looking cafes and inviting bakeries. I regret not having more time to spend here.
Finally, I found a nearby bus stop and went back to Taksim Square. At my hotel, I took my packed luggage to the shop at reception downstairs.
Originally, I planned to visit the Bosphorus before the flight. But the weather was very warm and I didn't want to rush my last few hours in the city. So I decided to take a stroll along Independence Avenue and really see this famous street that I've only hurried through so far. This time was well spent.
I found that there were several recessed passages with narrow entrances leading from the main street to huge enclosed courtyards with restaurants or cafes as a quiet and sheltered break from the heat and crowds outside.
After walking around and round, it was too hot, I stopped briefly at an elegant pastry shop to buy lemonade and ice cream, then walked a few more steps to a bookstore and bought a notebook made of olive wood.
Finally, after my midday prayer at a nearby mosque, I picked up my luggage and set off for the airport. As we sped through the roads of this city that is both ancient and modern, I reflected on everything I had seen and done over the past month. From lofty mountains to dusty plains, from coast to coast, I spent weeks in the bosom of this country, feeling both fresh and familiar. I pray from the bottom of my heart for everything I was allowed to go through, for everything I saw, and for everyone I met.
My trip to Turkey is coming to an end and every minute is worth it. I'm excited to go home and a little sad about leaving. Even by the time the plane left Turkish airspace, I had already started planning my second trip.
Perhaps, when I return, I will have another journey to write about and take you with me. Inshallah (if Allah so willing).