Istanbul was Constantinople

I don't know how to write a blog, much less introduce one, so let's just jump right in, shall we?

Right now I am sitting on the terrace of my hostel in Tel Aviv – feel free to conjure images of a spectacular view of the Mediterranean, rather than ragged buildings, loud buses and power lines surrounding me —and I'm about to document the Best Layover Ever.

First thing I did in Turkey: ate a kebab.

A kebab, a.k.a heaven in a pita

The waiter guy thought I was Turkish; he told me so. He might have been hitting on me but I'm ok with that because boy was he attractive. I think I might just move to Turkey some day.

This is what I saw on my walk from the train to the hostel...get ready for it...

The Blue Mosque

I didn't get to go in that night, mostly because it gets dark ridiculously early in this corner of the world and I was too much of a pansy to be out alone at night.

Visitors are requested to remove their shoes and women to cover their heads when inside the mosque. I didn’t have a scarf with me so I made do with a spare shirt.

The Basilica Cistern: the largest of several hundred ancient cisterns that lie beneath the city of Istanbul.

The Grand Bazaar: a ridiculously huge covered market.

I wanted to buy a rug but couldn't quite figure out how I would transport it.

Another Mosque. There was a mosque every few blocks or so in this city but I only took pictures of the really big ones.

My new friend. We met over breakfast at the hostel—both lone travelers—and spent the day touring Istanbul together. We also shared some strange food, like a pasta/cheese street food that resembled an omelette and a fish sandwich bought straight off a boat. We watched them fillet the fish right in front of us.

Reflection in strange art sculpture's mirror, and a fairy smile to boot.