Walking

When I walk along the Bosphorus I feel quite at home.  The pick up in the breeze, the slightly cooler temperature, the light from the open water with no shadows.  My memory of spending so much time on Lake Huron by the boat docks and along the shore kicks in.  I'd love to have someone test to see if my blood pressure goes down significantly, because I can feel it change.  My shoulders start to relax, my posture becomes more centrally located over my hips and I'm myself again. 

There are different routes I take down to the ocean.  My favorite one is when I leave my doorstep, walk across Yoğurçu Parki and end up on a beautifully designed boardwalk made of flat stones.  There's a low fence of enormous stones piled up between the walk and the wake from the Bosphorus. 

When I say enormous I mean some as big as a kitchen table or a VW Bug.  They are piled as wide from the water to the walk as a two-way street.  I start at the park and walk almost an hour or more curving and winding along the ocean.  It eventually takes me to the Kadiköy Ferry Docks.

I always see ships out on the water.  Even when it's foggy or hazy I see ships.  Many of them are huge cargo ships.  Some of them are the people-carrying ferries.  Others are fishing boats, pleasure boats and tourist boats. I instinctively watch for sailboats and tugboats.  The tugboats here usually are painted with vibrant colors.  I like to see the little fishing boats when they are fishing together in a circle.  I'm not sure what technique they are using to get fish, but I think it must be netting.  There are easily thirty ships at one time out there. 

Of course I can hear the boats calling to each other with their horns and the seagulls and other birds.  The waves make their unique music and it changes as the walkway turns and winds.  Sometimes there's more of a cove and others an open spot where the waves crash in on the rocks.  I'm pretty good at tuning out all people-sound while I'm walking, unless I purposely focus on them.  On Sundays hundreds of people are out on the boardwalk, the grass, rocks and the bike lane.  Most of them take their walk slowly.  I rarely see people out on the boardwalk to exercise.  If I do it's earlier in the morning. Usually before noon.

Several places along the walk there are benches which are usually filled with people.  The lovers tend to go sit on the rocks close to the water where no one can hear them or see them very well.  Sometimes you just see the tops of their heads facing each other talking or kissing.  A couple of times I've seen a woman and a man go along the rocks to sell roses to the men for their girls.  They sell them, too.  I've seen many young girls with a single rose in their hand holding their lovers hand.

It's a weird feeling to be walking and hear someone speak English. I get use to the Turkish language being spoken all the time.  I wonder how it must feel to be deaf and not understand anything anyone says.  I also wondered once when I saw someone "signing" to a deaf person if they were speaking Turkish or English in sign language.    

On some of the blustery cold days in February I could see cats coming and going from the rock crevices.  They defend their own territory, too.  The smart ones take the long way around a big aggressive-looking cat.  I've seen old ladies with little bags of cat food take it and spread it out on the rocks for the cats.  On the warmer days the cats just sprawl out on the rocks and sleep.  (But you still don't see the birds come too close to the cats sleeping)  There are occasional stray dogs, too.  They aren't scary.  They just walk along like people or sit down in the grass and sleep.  They get scraps of food from people, too.  The dogs on the leashes with owners are better groomed, and healthier looking but they are also much more temperamental and ornery.   It's probably because the strays have the freedom and space, they just have to look for food and shelter.  

Some of those cold days I wouldn't see many people out by the shore.  It wasn't that the wind and cold was any worse than by Lake Huron in the winter.  It's a belief I sense from being here "If you don't have to be out in it why would you?"  Like when it rains.  It's rare to see anyone walking just to walk in the rain.  It's tough to get a cab or a dolmuş when it's raining, everyone heads for cover.  The exception would be an old gentleman with his walking stick and umbrella taking his time in the rain or cold.  I like to speculate that they have a special cafe they like to go to when they want to get out of the rain and cold.  They drink their chai and read their newspapers, or just sit and talk with the neighborhood men.

When I walk back it never feels the same.  The sun is usually in my eyes, and I tend to go faster. I can't see the blue of the water as well and I'm starting to get frustrated by all the families, couples and friends arm in arm chatting and laughing. Lately I've been taking the neighborhood streets back instead.  The maze of roads are not as difficult for me to figure out as they were when I first got here. And I like to stop at old book stores, cafes, or small shops on the way back to my apartment.  And if it rains?  I really don't mind.  It gives me a good excuse to stop for chai and a piece of cake at a pastahane shop (Pastries and confectioner's shop) and watch the people go by.