I sit in the waiting room and watch the snowflakes stick to the airplanes. While I wait for the boarding, my eyes glance across the man in front of me. In a business suit and with a stern face, he plays games on Facebook. He nervously presses the digits on his mobile phone, while his face remains perfectly still. ‘A little bit longer, a little bit longer, and you’re there’ – I keep telling myself. To the East. To the East. We finally depart. My first solo traveling this is.
To the East…
It seems to me that everyone who spends a lot of time thinking, eventually find themselves setting off for the East at some point in their lives. The truth, the magic of the East calls upon every one of us, but do we all hear its call?
Continue reading “The Call of the East (Istanbul)”
How can I love more there than here? How can I feel foreign more as mine?Oh, but I can. Istanbul. Istanbul. Have we met before? A long time ago? Because, you got me.
Taksim square and Istiklal Caddesi
I arrived before they wounded you. The bus driver left us with simple: „Welcome to Istanbul“, and my first thought was: I am so lost. In the middle of a huge roundabout I saw people going in one direction – Istiklal street.
It is more than just a caddesi. Peppered with pedestrians, housing a huge variety of shops, Istiklal is more like a song. It can be loud and stressful or whispering silently. The message is same in both ways: FEEL. COME ALIVE. GET INSPIRED.
Continue reading “Istanbul, I hear your music”
They say, once you start traveling it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller. And oh my, I’d like to write some poetry right now. To sing a song for the city I love.
With every heartbeat my love for you grows bigger and bigger and I wanna cry, I wanna laugh and be neurotic and calm at the same time. So I am.
You make me wild and young and refreshingly free, yet balanced. And that is all I ever wanted of you.
From the minute I wake up, I’m all yours and you use this against me. I was shy until you whispered to me – you are safe, trust yourself. So I did, for trusting myself was the scariest part.
Continue reading “Flirting with the city”