Istanbul has been called many things, but to me, it will
remain the place where I remembered that travelling alone can be fun, and that Germans are amongst my favourite people.
I had hoped to go on this trip with my boyfriend, then my
brother, then a friend, and when all those plans fell through, I decided to go anyway.
In retrospect, I never once thought about the fact that I would be travelling
alone to a wedding, being more preoccupied about how I was going to get great
pictures of myself with selfies and a Samsung phone on its last legs.
Priorities.
Armed with the essentials – a good book, plenty of water,
hand sanitiser, and a map, I set off to explore the city. I got lost, of
course, and more than once judged myself for being that hapless tourist who wanders about slowly while looking dazed
and confused. I also wanted to hit (or at least nudge closer to the puddles)
the cute couples holding hands and canoodling all over the place.
Soon after, though, I found my own rhythm. Which is not to
say I got any better at reading the map. Instead, I slowed down, followed whatever road
looked most interesting, got chatting with all sorts of other tourists (Frances
and Bob from Australia were the best, by far!) and locals, and got pretty darn
good at expressing myself through flailing hands and pointing. I sense a lost
career as a mime.
I also sat down and read my book wherever I fancied, people-watched for hours, and had a glass of wine and ate whenever I damn well
pleased. I don’t have a single picture of myself in Istanbul, but as it turns
out, I had a great time anyway.
Onto ze Germans…
The wedding I was attending was that of a German friend from
the Irish days, whose bride is Turkish. Keep up.
If the worth of a person is determined by the friends and
family that turn up to his wedding, then my friend has it made. From making the
effort to speak in English as much as possible, to being as warm, friendly, and
inclusive as possible to everyone around, including yours truly, this
contingent once again reminded me why I am so fond of my German friends. Their
propensity to divest themselves of their clothes and jump into the closest
water body never ceases to entertain, but I suspect the real affinity comes
from a common love of the good stuff – alcohol. Ah well, better friendships
were built on lesser things than beer.
