Istanbul Day 3: Masters of Our Universe

The emerald blue sea roared as it collided with the stone barricades that were supposed to keep the civilization behind it safe. A fishy scent engulfed my senses as I inhaled the sea breeze. It was only half past ten in the morning, but the sun was unusually strong – forcing my cotton shirt to soak up more sweat that I had intended it to. I had seen better days: both Zhi Wei and I woke up a tad tired from our extensive travels the day before. And it didn’t helped that I accidentally left my passport in my room, thus compelling me to tread my way back to the hostel to get it.

From Istanbul Europe looking at Istanbul Asia.

My body wasn’t enjoying the visible layer of sweat that has formed on the surface of my skin. After 2 days, the scorching heat had finally gotten to me, making me a very snappish person. Despite the teases from the clear blue sky and calls echoing from Istanbul Asia, the visual picture of me tucked nicely behind my velvet duvet in Magdalen College, University of Oxford, without the irritation of an unusually hot summer proved to be overwhelming. The multiple collisions with tourists and locals along our way to the Galata Bridge didn’t make the walk any easier.

Fishing on the Galata Bridge!

But fortunes started to change as we reached the bridge that we had to cross to Istanbul Asia or the New District of Istanbul. The Galata Bridge was busy; cars and heavy vehicles make their way on this bridge from both directions, emancipating the hustle and bustle feel of the bridge. However, this pursuit of economic gains failed to overshadow the throng of people fishing by the walkways of the bridge. I was always intrigued by fishing; though behind the simplicity of this activity lies a wealth of knowledge that is beyond my comprehension, the thing that has always puzzled was the level of patience that goes into this past time. I could NEVER have mustered the necessary amount of patience to be this idle. Fishing for hours beside a busy bridge under the scorching heat?

I prefer women in bikinis.

***

The New District proved very much unlike its predecessor, the Old Town. It neither had the historic baggage seeped into the facades of its buildings, nor did it bother hiding the fact that most of its buildings are modern, plain and similar. Huge white columns filled the steep hills, occasionally punctured by a building or two that bothered to put a little more effort than its counterparts. On top of that, there was another peculiar sight: satellite dishes certainly sprouted like mushrooms. I reckoned that most of the Turks stayed here as opposed to the Old Town.

Hilly paths and ubiquitous satellite dishes.

The hilly path exerted an early fatigue to an already grumpy person. I have always been a skeptic on splurging any money on running up any ‘sky-scrapper.’ Hailing from Kuala Lumpur, if even the KL Tower could hardly impress me, then I doubt any other of its peers could. Panoramic view had its perks, but its akin to a short fuse that fizzles out after a few minutes. A place is famed or revered because of its nuances – the micro-quirks that couldn’t be found in any other surface of the planet. The view from a sky scrapper smoothens these charms away; making the uniquely quaint distinctions of a space miniscule compared to the endless spread of the blue sky with its platoons of clouds.

But I went up anyway.

Because despite my grudging disapproval of these expenditures, there is just something thrilling to the sight of endless span of things. An excitement that is accentuated as we make a 360 degrees walk around the platform, with all of human’s inventions within the trappings of our visual cage. The heavy puffs of strong winds added further hype to moment.

We feel so big. We feel so powerful.

We are the masters of our universe.

Last 5 posts by Jian Wei

• One Minute to Midnight - January 1st, 2011
• Prophecy - December 31st, 2010
• Footprints We Leave Behind - November 4th, 2010
• Budapest: Contradictions Aplenty - August 15th, 2010
• Istanbul: At Night - August 10th, 2010

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