18/09. On the vapur across the Sea of Marmara, heading to Kadiköy
Off to Asia today—well, the Asian side of Istanbul, to be exact. Our original plan was to take a long ferry ride across the Sea of Marmara to the Princes’ Islands, but the gloomy weather put us off. Instead, we decided to explore the Kadiköy district, one of the Routard’s favorites.
We board the vapur (the ferry) at Eminönü station, and off we go for a 20-minute crossing.
On the starboard side, we first pass the hill of Sultanahmet, crowned by the two mosques of Ayasophya and Sultanahmet Camii, the orange and the blue, facing each other. A little further on, the skyline of the city’s main business district comes into view. Yes, many people don’t realize it, but Istanbul is also a major global metropolis, ranked in the top 10 of "global cities."
As we approach the Asian shore, I observe the industrial port facilities of Haydarpaça and the imposing silhouette of Istanbul’s old main train station with the interest of a geography teacher.
We arrive in Kadiköy. No specific plans for today—just wandering through the steep, cobbled streets of the neighborhood. Kate and her Nikon are on the hunt again, looking for beautiful images or street scenes to capture—snap?—on the fly.
Around a corner, we stumble upon a small group of men sitting at a café terrace, deeply focused on manipulating what look like colorful, numbered dominoes. Some are placed on wooden stands, others scattered in the middle of the table. We ask if we can watch, and they nod without looking up from their game. I think there’s nothing more serious in the world than a man or woman playing a game! We stay for several minutes, watching them, while they remain completely indifferent to our presence. I would’ve been annoyed if someone loitered behind me like that—not them, though.
Turns out it’s a board game hugely popular in Turkey, Okey, often played in cafés for hours. It’s a bit like what belote was for us socially. I looked up the rules online but didn’t understand much—numbers and I don’t really get along.
We say a quiet goodbye to the players, still absorbed in their game, and step into a charming alley decorated with colorful umbrellas hanging above our heads. A welcome omen. Moments later, a brief but heavy downpour forces us to find shelter.
The weather’s really gloomy today, and by early afternoon, we’re hesitating about what to do next. Personally, I’d love to visit the working-class district of Usküdar by the Bosphorus, but Kate would rather dive back into the livelier atmosphere of Galata—and especially revisit the famous Camondo stairs, made iconic by Cartier-Bresson’s photos.
Rock-paper-scissors… It’ll be Galata, then.
Before reboarding the vapur, we pause on the esplanade by the dock to listen to a young guitarist singing a beautiful melody with Eastern influences. I think it’s his own composition. I love traditional Eastern music, as well as blends with modern influences like Oriental jazz or pop. It’s one of my few regrets about this trip to Istanbul—not having sought out or found places to listen to that kind of music.
Back on the slopes of Galata, we arrive at the foot of the stairs. It’s wedding day, apparently! Several couples, in suits and white dresses, rush up the steps to capture their union in photos. With her big Nikon around her neck, Kate is mistaken for a professional photographer. Immediately, there’s a flood of requests: “Can you take a picture of us? We will give you our WhatsApp.”
Click-click, click-click—the photos keep coming. Her partner waits patiently at the bottom of the stairs. The session lasts a good twenty minutes. Time to go enjoy a çay in a quiet little street away from the crowd...
For our last evening in Istanbul, we decide to soak up the festive atmosphere up in Galata. The streets leading to Istiklal Avenue are packed. Thanks to the Cartoville, we found a little place that’s more like a canteen. The concept is simple: you go to the counter and assemble your own plate. The vibe is relaxed, the crowd very young. We have a great time, then wisely decide to head back to our little apartment.
We can feel the trip coming to an end. It’s always a bittersweet moment—satisfaction at having made the most of the stay, not missing out, but also the nostalgia that comes with saying goodbye to a place you’ve loved and may never see again.
Tomorrow, though, we’ll have a full morning before heading to the airport.
Tomorrow, we have a date with Sophya, Ayasophya...
