I've spent 21 days in Anamur after my Mototour. I freed myself from Paradise after 21 days. It was not easy but I succeeded. Now I'm in Istanbul sitting in a tea-house on the shore of Bosporus. It's getting dark, it's raining and it's cold. It's not the Istanbul I've left one and a half months ago. It's much better - tourists hardly can be found, instead, the local people finding me.
But uh, I'm again in a hurry, I shouldn't be. I know I should write about my plans and about my Anamur weeks, about the decision to go home, about why I'm not flying to Asia or to South America or to Morocco. Instead, I'm writing about this day in Istanbul, because I feel it is a must.
So, I was just taking off the bus from Anamur at the huge bus station in Istanbul, when a pessanger, obviously the only one who is not from Turkey, asks me if I speak English and if I know if this is the end station, and how to get to the city. Yes, I said, so we took the metro together heading to the center.
He was from Germany and he spent two weeks in Anamur - to be alone and to finish editing his book what he wrote in Berlin and on the Canary Islands. Nice, I said, and asked immediately how could he finance his travels just to write a book. Rickshaw rider was the answer. Well, I said, it's cool to ride for good money. During the time he was talking to me we noticed some noise on the train, people were looking to one direction: a young man was shaking on the floor, probably an epilepsy storm reached him. A friend / family member was handling the situation with routine, almost calming down the surrounding crowd. My new friend was watching the whole story without any reactions - he said, when he was travelling through Latin-America, he got used to any kind of extreme situations, so he doesn't get surprised easily. As I remember he was in Mexico, Venezuela, Panama, Columbia - and after a time when he went a bit too deep into his sociological studies of the people there, he got a menace, so he decided to fly home. I can understand this reaction.
We took some more tram-stops together when he left. Güle güle, good luck! Ah, yes, a remark: he decided not to fly back to Berlin from Antalya, instead he choose to take trains / buses and to visit Istanbul, Sofia, Belgrade, Budapest and Prague - that's a good decision, I said. And I slowly began to make my way to Taksim square to meet my german friends, Sarah and Matthias. Arriving there I set down on a bench in the tram stop, on my side my big backpack improvised from a huge cafe-bag.
I deep dived into just watching the pedestrians passing by - and suddenly from the nothing an old lady popped up in front of me holding his question as pistol to my neck: are you a CIA agent from America? I could hardly stand not to laugh out loud, but somehow I managed and I answerd: yes, and I am selling coffee from Brasil but please, don't tell it to anybody - in fact, do you want a kilo or two? At this point she began to laugh, anchors away. Of course I told her I'm from "Macaristan", and I am a simple tourist, no need to worry. She changed the subject fast asking after my religion. I bend away from the question, but no problem, she continued - that it is so bad that all the religions are somehow connected with wars, and it is not good, and it should not be like this, and she is working on this problem. I didn't have possibility to ask back what does she do exactly and how she plan to change the world, because her tram arrived and she left. I began to look after my friends, and that moment the nice old lady was knocking on the window of the tram with her keys, smiling and waving towards me. I did the same, waving and smiling at her. What a 10 minutes on Taksim!
A few seconds later an old turkish man in traditional clothes sat beside me saying Salem Aleykum. Aleykum Salam, I replied in the hope of getting some compliment from my non-existing turkish teacher. The old man asked: Alahadarbalahabalala... habaramözilhadra Muslim? Well, I just looked at him spreading my arms wide as an international sign of "I have no idea of what you are talking about". It seemed he didn't understand my signs so he just simply asked if I speak English. At that moment I just released my laughter, I couldn't stand it anymore. So he asked what is my religion and if I was a muslim. I said, well... So I began to play some Activity: Muslim - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Christian - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Hindu - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Jewish - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Buddhist - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Ateist - I said and I put both hands on my heart. At this point, finally the old man began to smile. Luckily we just skipped the religios thoughts and he asked where I'm coming from. In a few words I told him the Budapest-Istanbul story. He stroke back saying he had cycled up and down all Turkey, made bicycle tours starting from Germany all the way to the Middle East. And this is just the beginning because he pulled out a paper from his coat's inner pocket - country names highlighted with yellow: Thailand, Cambodia, Laos... probably an e-ticket for an airplane. He made a remark that he'll buy a bike there to ride further - in November, soon he starts. This whole situation began to be too much for me, the surroundings started to get darker and darker. Just before blacking out of this bizarre and funny and unbelievable story finally Matthias and Sarah appeared and pulled me out of this trip talking to and having fun with my 60 years old turkish self.
We were happy to see each other again with my lovely german couple with the tandem - we just talked and talked and laughed for a few hours having dinner and eating sweets in the middle of Istanbul. It was such a nice thing happened to us: we were on the road for several months and we pedalled separately, but four-five times we just met for a couple of hours or days to give some momentum and joy to each other. Who decided abtout this? Somebody up in the skies?
After saying good bye again, I started to look after a place where I can sit down and have a tea and use the Internet. I decided to go down to the sea to be close to the Big Water - so I took the cable car. Going out of the station an old man was making some remarks on my funny backpack - he liked this cheap, hand-made stuff. After getting fast into a conversation he asked with his hard, broken English, as broken as his teeth were: what is your religion? At this moment I felt a little bit shocked - oh, Allah, Christ, Buddha or Samurai Jack, I don't care who, but please, pull me out of this for today, it was enough! I was just looking and staring him, giving him as much attention as I could - what if he is some half-god testing my awareness, or what if he is a homeless-dressed rich turk who wants to find somebody to inherit his huge, luxury house in Istanbul? So I was just listening to him. He took a paper out of his pocket and began to translate the writings on it. First, I should beleive. Second, I should be thankful. Third, I should forget for all who hurt me and I should seek pardon of them. And fourth, I forgot the fourth. Ah, yes, it was about helping others showing The Way once I find it. Well, I said, thanks for the instructions - but do you know a place nearby where the tea is not on touristic price and I can sit down and maybe there is wifi? He just pointed to the direction of the invisible teahouse on the shore and left. I took a deep breath just to be able to make these few steps till the teahouse after this incredible conversation.
So finally I got back to the point where I started - sitting on the shore of the Bosporus. Since then, when I began to write this post I already took the train from Istanbul to Belgrade and from there to Budapest. But before finishing this blog I still owe you with the hows and whys, with writing some things about the beautiful weeks in Anamur, and maybe with sharing my plans how I'll go further with my outer and inner travels. Till the next post I upload a few photos I took and some beautiful ones shoot by Angela in Anamur. I'll be back.
But uh, I'm again in a hurry, I shouldn't be. I know I should write about my plans and about my Anamur weeks, about the decision to go home, about why I'm not flying to Asia or to South America or to Morocco. Instead, I'm writing about this day in Istanbul, because I feel it is a must.
So, I was just taking off the bus from Anamur at the huge bus station in Istanbul, when a pessanger, obviously the only one who is not from Turkey, asks me if I speak English and if I know if this is the end station, and how to get to the city. Yes, I said, so we took the metro together heading to the center.
He was from Germany and he spent two weeks in Anamur - to be alone and to finish editing his book what he wrote in Berlin and on the Canary Islands. Nice, I said, and asked immediately how could he finance his travels just to write a book. Rickshaw rider was the answer. Well, I said, it's cool to ride for good money. During the time he was talking to me we noticed some noise on the train, people were looking to one direction: a young man was shaking on the floor, probably an epilepsy storm reached him. A friend / family member was handling the situation with routine, almost calming down the surrounding crowd. My new friend was watching the whole story without any reactions - he said, when he was travelling through Latin-America, he got used to any kind of extreme situations, so he doesn't get surprised easily. As I remember he was in Mexico, Venezuela, Panama, Columbia - and after a time when he went a bit too deep into his sociological studies of the people there, he got a menace, so he decided to fly home. I can understand this reaction.
We took some more tram-stops together when he left. Güle güle, good luck! Ah, yes, a remark: he decided not to fly back to Berlin from Antalya, instead he choose to take trains / buses and to visit Istanbul, Sofia, Belgrade, Budapest and Prague - that's a good decision, I said. And I slowly began to make my way to Taksim square to meet my german friends, Sarah and Matthias. Arriving there I set down on a bench in the tram stop, on my side my big backpack improvised from a huge cafe-bag.
I deep dived into just watching the pedestrians passing by - and suddenly from the nothing an old lady popped up in front of me holding his question as pistol to my neck: are you a CIA agent from America? I could hardly stand not to laugh out loud, but somehow I managed and I answerd: yes, and I am selling coffee from Brasil but please, don't tell it to anybody - in fact, do you want a kilo or two? At this point she began to laugh, anchors away. Of course I told her I'm from "Macaristan", and I am a simple tourist, no need to worry. She changed the subject fast asking after my religion. I bend away from the question, but no problem, she continued - that it is so bad that all the religions are somehow connected with wars, and it is not good, and it should not be like this, and she is working on this problem. I didn't have possibility to ask back what does she do exactly and how she plan to change the world, because her tram arrived and she left. I began to look after my friends, and that moment the nice old lady was knocking on the window of the tram with her keys, smiling and waving towards me. I did the same, waving and smiling at her. What a 10 minutes on Taksim!
A few seconds later an old turkish man in traditional clothes sat beside me saying Salem Aleykum. Aleykum Salam, I replied in the hope of getting some compliment from my non-existing turkish teacher. The old man asked: Alahadarbalahabalala... habaramözilhadra Muslim? Well, I just looked at him spreading my arms wide as an international sign of "I have no idea of what you are talking about". It seemed he didn't understand my signs so he just simply asked if I speak English. At that moment I just released my laughter, I couldn't stand it anymore. So he asked what is my religion and if I was a muslim. I said, well... So I began to play some Activity: Muslim - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Christian - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Hindu - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Jewish - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Buddhist - I said and I put both hands on my heart, Ateist - I said and I put both hands on my heart. At this point, finally the old man began to smile. Luckily we just skipped the religios thoughts and he asked where I'm coming from. In a few words I told him the Budapest-Istanbul story. He stroke back saying he had cycled up and down all Turkey, made bicycle tours starting from Germany all the way to the Middle East. And this is just the beginning because he pulled out a paper from his coat's inner pocket - country names highlighted with yellow: Thailand, Cambodia, Laos... probably an e-ticket for an airplane. He made a remark that he'll buy a bike there to ride further - in November, soon he starts. This whole situation began to be too much for me, the surroundings started to get darker and darker. Just before blacking out of this bizarre and funny and unbelievable story finally Matthias and Sarah appeared and pulled me out of this trip talking to and having fun with my 60 years old turkish self.
We were happy to see each other again with my lovely german couple with the tandem - we just talked and talked and laughed for a few hours having dinner and eating sweets in the middle of Istanbul. It was such a nice thing happened to us: we were on the road for several months and we pedalled separately, but four-five times we just met for a couple of hours or days to give some momentum and joy to each other. Who decided abtout this? Somebody up in the skies?
After saying good bye again, I started to look after a place where I can sit down and have a tea and use the Internet. I decided to go down to the sea to be close to the Big Water - so I took the cable car. Going out of the station an old man was making some remarks on my funny backpack - he liked this cheap, hand-made stuff. After getting fast into a conversation he asked with his hard, broken English, as broken as his teeth were: what is your religion? At this moment I felt a little bit shocked - oh, Allah, Christ, Buddha or Samurai Jack, I don't care who, but please, pull me out of this for today, it was enough! I was just looking and staring him, giving him as much attention as I could - what if he is some half-god testing my awareness, or what if he is a homeless-dressed rich turk who wants to find somebody to inherit his huge, luxury house in Istanbul? So I was just listening to him. He took a paper out of his pocket and began to translate the writings on it. First, I should beleive. Second, I should be thankful. Third, I should forget for all who hurt me and I should seek pardon of them. And fourth, I forgot the fourth. Ah, yes, it was about helping others showing The Way once I find it. Well, I said, thanks for the instructions - but do you know a place nearby where the tea is not on touristic price and I can sit down and maybe there is wifi? He just pointed to the direction of the invisible teahouse on the shore and left. I took a deep breath just to be able to make these few steps till the teahouse after this incredible conversation.
So finally I got back to the point where I started - sitting on the shore of the Bosporus. Since then, when I began to write this post I already took the train from Istanbul to Belgrade and from there to Budapest. But before finishing this blog I still owe you with the hows and whys, with writing some things about the beautiful weeks in Anamur, and maybe with sharing my plans how I'll go further with my outer and inner travels. Till the next post I upload a few photos I took and some beautiful ones shoot by Angela in Anamur. I'll be back.
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