tulipa

Every year, the city of Istanbul plants about 3 million tulip bulbs all over the city. The beautiful blossoms have now bloomed in medians, roundabouts and parks. Known as lale to the Turks, the tulip is indigenous to Turkey, Iran and Afghanistan— not Holland as many people think. It is unknown who brought the first bulb over to the West, but this modest flower created an incredible sensation in 17th century Europe.

I hear there has been a tulip festival in Emirgan Park in Istanbul each year since 2006, but I cannot find any information on when it is this year. Tulips are my favourite flowers, so I absolutely must get over to Emirgan.

galata kulesi and a few sketches

After I dropped off the illustration I had been working on for a client in Kasımpaşa, I decided that since I was near Galata Kulesi, otherwise known as the Galata tower, I'd pop on over to check it out. I've always seen it from a distance but have never actually been there. It's a landmark that is impossible to miss— a huge cylindrical structure with a cone-shaped roof watching over the Golden Horn. Built in 1348, the the tower stands 66.90 metres tall and is 35 metres above sea-level, which made it the highest structure in Constantinople. Its primary purpose during Ottoman times was watching for fires. When I was little, I believed that it was from Galata Kulesi that Icarus attempted to fly free on his wings of wax.

Before venturing into the tower, I stopped in a café at the base for a tea and tost— toast. I love the phonetic spelling in Turkish! Tost is basically what is known to Americans as grilled cheese. You can get tomatoes in your tost or a tasty spicy sausage called sucuk— which is what I got. There is a café in the tower should you wish to dine with a view, but I haven't tried it.

Climbing to the top of Galata Kulesi will give you one of the most astonishing views of the Bosphorus and Golden Horn. On a clear day, you can see the Marmara sea with all its boats waiting for entry into the strait.



On the left side of the picture below, you can see Hagia Sophia (Aya Sofya in Turkish) on the horizon and Sultanahmet, the Blue Mosque, on the right.


Upon exiting, there was a man with a sweets cart that I couldn't resist purchasing a little fried dough from. This is the Turkish version of a churro, which I am crazy for. The amount of churros I ate back in California is either impressive or embarrassing. Syrupy, doughy, delicious and only 50 kuruş— which according to today's exchange rate is 31 cents. You can't beat that. I'm not sure what this is called, but a shorter form is called tulumba.

Click on the images to see them larger.

posters and street art in beyoğlu

Çay anyone? While I was snapping this photo, an older gentleman asked me if I'd like some of this doorstep tea. I guess it was his thermos and sugar.

not a cloud in the sky

On a glorious day like today, all I wanted to do was stroll along the Bosphorus with some dondurma, Turkish ice-cream. Besides being absolutely divinely delicious, dondurma has a chewy and tougher texture than ice-cream. It's lower in lactose too, and I find that the fruit flavours really taste like fresh fruit. There's this teeny-tiny dondurma stand in Bebek called "Mini Dondurma" that I used to go to when I was eight. It is actually still there, so I had to get in line.


Çikolata ve böğürtlen, lütfen! That's: "chocolate and blackberry, please!" I'm a sucker for dark berries. Beautiful days like today bring the whole city outdoors, and Istanbul is full of parks and promenades for people to enjoy the weather in.


With a beautiful body of water like the Bosphorus so accessible, fishing is naturally a favourite pastime for many. Keeping everyone's bellies from feeling hunger, vendors of all kinds of tasty treats— salted corn on the cob, simit (a sesame-covered ring of bread), sandwiches, popcorn, cream-filled wafers, stuffed mussels— patrol the walkway.


I ended up walking to Ortaköy, which isn't too far a walk from Bebek— I want to say about 20 minutes walking casually, but I wasn't timing it. Ortaköy was abuzz with people having tea, smoking waterpipes, walking hand in hand with their loved one and browsing the many tables of an outdoor market.


No trip to Istanbul is complete without a trip to the tiny streets of Ortaköy, and no trip to Ortaköy is complete without a kumpir— a stuffed baked potato from one of the many kumpir stands. I couldn't resist, and was also curious to find out what the Amerikan salatası topping was. It turns out that Amerikan salatası, "American salad" is potato salad— you might think potato salad on a baked potato is a bit redundant, but I assure you it is not. The more the merrier. Forgive the blurry photograph below of my feast, I snapped it quickly before diving in. What you are seeing there is some cheese, kısır, potato salad, black olives, hot sauce and slices of hotdogs. I can't get enough of these.

forests and warm potatoes

When I was a little girl, I loved to take walks in the forest with my dad. It's been almost a decade since I have walked in a forest, so today's little venture into Belgrad Ormanı, or Belgrade Forest, was simply wonderful. It was so soothing to be in that quiet air that only forests have— singing birds, trees rustling, streams gushing. In a couple of weeks, the floor will be covered in yellow, purple and white flowers, and the trees will be showing off their new bright green leaves. I saw all sorts of birds— colourful finches, hooded crows and some kind of small bird of prey that was very well camouflaged.

The temperature had dropped considerably from Tuesday's warmth, and it started to drizzle. With my nose red and my fingers cold, what could be better than a hot baked potato from Mr. Kumpir— the baked potato vendors? Once in town, I bought myself a potato whipped up with butter, salt, cheese, topped with sliced hot-dogs in a savoury sauce and kısır— a delicious bulghur salad with tomato and red pepper paste. Heaven on a cold day.

happiness is a good pen

Woman selling flowers on the Kadıköy wharf.

I am running out of my stash of beloved Sakura Micron Pigma pens— so far I have found a teeny supply of them at Güven Arts & Crafts in Kadıköy. Since they don't seem to be too readily available, I thought I'd try something new. I was intrigued by the claim of waterproof India ink in the Faber-Castell PITT Art pens, so I picked up a few different nib sizes and gave it a shot. Wow. This is some pen— a super-rich black ink that doesn't bleed, smell, smear or wash away. It's fabulous. The intensity of the black is really beautiful, and hasn't faded under washes of paint. The ink seems to just flow out of the tip, unlike the Microns, which can get scratchy. The pens come in a simple variety of nibs: Superfine, Fine, Medium, and Brush.

Now if only I could get a decent scanner. The first drawing has a lot of subtle blues and greys in the sky and sea, but they are completely lost. I'll keep fiddling with it. Oh how I miss my SF scanner!

I drew this last one on the bus home today, drawing as fast as I could. It's a mix of buildings and signs along the way that I tried to compose in such a way that would best resemble the scene outside.

Please click on the images to see the drawings in better detail.