New Year’s Eve was an uneventful, meandering sort of evening. Other options would’ve been a $120 Bosporus Dinner Cruise w/food/drinks/dancing/fireworks view or hanging on a bridge with probably hundreds of thousands of Istanbullus. Since I don’t even do that sort of thing in NY, I figure, why do it in Istanbul.
So I took the tram into the “New City” – my first taste of the non-tourist ghetto, and NYE was a prime time as any for a change of pace. What can I say? If Istanbul were a body, then Istlikal Caddesi would be its beating, pulsating heart. I was amazed and wowed and floored by the sheer number of people streaming up and down the avenue – think Istanbul’s version of Paris’ Avenue de Champs Elysee, but bigger. NYC doesn’t have anything you could even compare it to unless you combine Times Square with Fifth Avenue and Lower Broadway with a dash of the Village (both East and West). The energy was so incredibly vibrant yet laidback. The truth is, words wouldn’t even begin to describe it, and if they did, I don’t have the time or abilities at the moment.
When I veered off the main drag onto the side streets, it was a completely different story. If Istlikal is Istanbul’s heart, then the warren of streets, labyrinthine and climbing uphill and downhill, and wending and winding are its blood vessels. One side off Istiklal in particular was more spread out, maze-like and deserted (um… that’s the side I got a bit lost in). The other side was like walking in a giant, roving party as you move through the maze, with eateries and bars spilling off both sides of every little cobblestoned alley. And as I tried squeezing through one particularly boisterous street where there are two or three bars/eateries right up on each other, spilling out onto the street on both sides, percussive music pumping (not dance or rap music mind you), people dancing so joyously in the tiniest little space – I smiled so reflexively and thought, this is exactly why I am here. A celebration, in the smallest square feet imaginable, bigger than anything I’d ever felt or seen.
I grabbed a beer and a stool somewhere on Nevizade Street, and lost all track of time without a cellphone or watch. The only indications that it was the New Year was the small wave of applause, the setting of flame/flare, and people rising up from their stools to kiss each other on both cheeks.
By the time I made it back down the hill to the tram, and waited and waited… two passed that were out of service. I started walking probably sometime around 1:30 following the tram’s tracks to lead me back to the hotel. I could’ve grabbed a cab, but just kept walking and walking and walking… over a bridge, jumping over tracks, onto the highway and back onto streets. It’s a good thing I’m still young and spry enough to do this. I would not recommend it for most. It took probably close to an hour. By then, I had walked about 6 hours that night and subsequently, slept 13 hours.
Hi,
ReplyDeleteDon't mean to dominate comments but will be commenting often as I remember how much fun it was when we blogged to get feedback and know that we were not blogging into a black hole.
Did you partake in any of the cheek kissing or dancing? Have you had much interaction with locals other than persistent rug dealers? Did you feel safe wandering around? When we did same on NYE in London it did feel dicey at times, esp with pickpockets in plain sight.
Not dominating at all. Appreciate the LOOOOVVVVVE.
ReplyDeleteNo cheek kissing or dancing for me. The dancing was more of a hand clapping, foot stomping sort of affair in maybe a square foot of space, so assuming I could even squeeze in, no dice. Have I met locals, goodness have I. Many are of the sort to want to steer you into buying something, but others not. Hope to post more on that later. Feel pretty safe, I must say, even walking down the old, deserted, dimly lit, rickety hill to the tram. Growing up in NYC, one has learned to navigate these sorts of things, but I think crime here is pretty low, though not non-existent. It doesn't have the same pickpocket as accepted practice/occupation as other places in Europe like Paris, Rome, etc. All pretty respectable and friendly. Although with my cold, my pockets have been stuffed with used tissues, so you know what they would've gotten! :)
I think I meant respectful.
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