Back to Besiktas
Last night, I got these two messages from a friend in Cihangir and one in Besiktas, which are a few kms away from each other.
“It’s snowing like crazy!”
“The streets are clean and dry!”
Istanbul seems to be composed entirely of microclimates.
At the magic house, my host’s girlfriend confirmed that no one can agree about what’s going on with this storm. I wanted to get as close to the airport as I could, so I ended up fleeing to Cihangir for the night to my friend Lisa’s place, and then this morning, as further conflicting weather reports came in, moving north to the Purple Palace in Besiktas. I’ll ride out the rest of the storm/not storm here, while flights are possibly still running/also possibly cancelled until Monday, depending on who you speak to and when.
Returning to the place that was my first “home” in Istanbul felt like a relief. I know where the shops are and how to get around. I love having a park nearby (green space is in very short supply in this city).
Django and I wandered to that spot where I almost fell asleep on Day 1, now covered in snow. I can’t believe that was only 4 weeks ago. I love that about travel: it slows down time, or, maybe, it tunes us into the pace at which time is really happening.
I hope you spend some of today in real time, noticing the extraordinariness of your so-called ordinary life, remembering that it, and you, won’t always be here.
