My camera isn't waterproof, and other lamentations

On the day that I chose to take a walking tour of old Istanbul, the weather turned to a bleak 50 degrees with a side of pouring rain. It did not help that all of my jackets are back in the United States, safely packed away in boxes awaiting my return. (I mean, who needs a jacket in perpetually 90 degree Cairo?) So, I bundled up, layering all of the shirts that I brought with three pairs of tights under a summer dress.
Luckily for me, I got to see amazing things, in the culmination of the best of Istanbul: my grand finale.
Our first stop was the Blue mosque, a staple of every trip to Istanbul. Unfortunately, a cruise ship docked a few hours earlier on the Bosphorous, and I ended up having to wait in an hour long line, drowning in a sea of French people who were trying to elbow their way in front of me. The Blue mosque was kind of a let-down at this point, because it looked like almost every mosque that I had been to in Turkey and Egypt. The worst part was that the place has only one exit, so I had to stand in another line (with French people) to get out of the building, all the while thinking about how much of a fire safety code hazard it was. (I'm sure that was not on the priority list of architects in the 1500's).
The Blue Mosque

The next stop was Topkapi palace, the abode of the early sultans. Again, the place was mobbed, but I got to see the most beautiful Ottoman architecture- white washed walls guilded with gold- as well as the sultans' jewelery (including the fifth largest diamond in the world), spoils of war, presents from other empires, swords, thrones, bejeweled clothing, and the Prophet Mohammed's paraphernalia (hat, sword, tunic) as a demonstration of Ottoman control over Mecca and Medina.

After a short lunch break, my group sojourned to the place that was the reason for my pilgrimage to Istanbul: Hagia Sophia, or in Greek, Holy Wisdom. This church was built in the 500's by Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora of the Byzantine empire, and was the largest building in the world for a millenium. When the Ottomans conquered, they turned the church into a mosque, which is reflected in large disks on four corners of the dome that bear the names of God, Mohammed, Ali, and Abu Bakr.

My favorite part of the museum was the Byzantine mosaics. Somehow, the French people had not yet weasled their way up to the upper floors of the museum, and I was able to stand contemplatively in front of a shimmery golden mosaic of Jesus for a peaceful and undisturbed five minutes. Then a slew of French people emerged, knocking me away from Jesus, and prompting me to hoof my way toward the exit.
Jesus, for those of you who are not in the loop.

The next destination was an underground water passage called the Cistern. It served as a resting point for water on its way through aqueducts to the surrounding region. The cavernous cistern was a bit spooky, because its Roman columns and pools of water were lit blood red by theatrical lights. However, the place exuded an appealing atmosphere of ancient mystery.

At the end of our tour, we were dropped off at the Grand Bazaar, which I believe was a practical joke played on us by our impish tour guide who, at the Topkaki palace security check point, made the announcement that if we had any bombs on our person, we should leave them at the gate.
The bazaar was a labyrinth, and only someone with a sense of humor could escape unterrified from the chaos within. According to Arman, our guide, the bazaar has 4,000 stores and 60 exits. Luckily, I made a friend from the tour, an older man on vacation (for his bucket list), and we navigated the place together. He wanted to find his daughter some jewelery, but I just wanted to go home. I won.
After a day of trudging through the cold and pouring rain, I was soaked to the bone, and just wanted a good meal. I decided to return to the restaurant where I dined on the first night, this time indulging myself with Baigan Bharta, my favorite Indian dish. It did not disappoint.
I can thank the universe for the crappy weather at the end of my trip, because it made going back to Cairo a bit easier. Traveling always seems to be a hassle, though, and I did not evade trouble on my way out of Turkey. At the airport, I couldn't walk through to the passport check booth because it was blocked by a wall of hundreds of people and their suitcases on their way to Medina (plus their family members who were 'well-wishing' them off on their journey). When I finally pushed my way through, I made it to the other side where I was greeted by a "dondurma" stand. A friend of mine had recommended dondurma, a special Turkish stretchy/non-melting ice cream that is not technically legal outside of Turkey. I saw this as my last chance for the near future, so I stopped and paid the dondurma guy three American dollars to have my first bite, and it was so worth it!

My dreamlike trip to Turkey ended as soon as I stepped out of the Cairo airport into the hot, glaring sun, with taxi drivers ready to pounce on me, trying to overcharge me for a ride home. Hah! If they thought I was going to pay 100 LE for a taxi ride, they were sorely mistaken. A more perceptive taxi driver caught on that I was not a mere American tourist, and offered me a more reasonable fare, 70 LE for the trip. I was so proud of myself when I was able to instruct him, in Arabic, how to get back to my apartment (from the highway).
After successfully completing an infinitely amazing trip that I planned and executed myself, I crashlanded on my bed and called it a day.