TRAVELLIVE 04-2016
Istanbul, the first days of spring… I’m warming myself in the sun on a café’s balcony in the Old Town. The sunbeams are as stunning as the fine strands of newly reeled silk. Meanwhile the old oak trees give their morning greeting to the glossy stone road as their red-brown leaves gently fall. The Old Town is still half-asleep, like a lazy girl who’s turned off her alarm after ringing the first time. Sunlight visits each street, dancing happily on passers-by’s shoulders, making the atmosphere more intimate to me – the traveler’s first time here. I feel more amorous in Istanbul. I’m enchanted by everything, from sweet lokum to the light sour ice-cream with ground ice on top, or from the gorgeous domes of hundreds of mosques and palaces to their uniquely designed windows, and from the discreet eyes of Muslim girls to the multitude of boards and posters with the images of Besiktas – the city’s legendary football team. I have fallen in love with Bosphorus Bay since the first time seeing the seagulls hovering in the open sky, creating invisible strings that connect the two continents – Asia and Europe. The clear blue sky is reflected on the deep blue sea, giving me tranquility. I drop my last Lira into the water of the Bosphorus, not to make a wish, but in hopes that they will preserve my memories here. And somehow, the water currents might bring them somewhere else to be found by me again, or might accidentally be stumbled upon by a boy who is playing with sand on a sunny beach. Tomorrow, I will go to Grand Bazzar, buy some postcards, and write something to leave beneath the sun near a mosque before sending them to some friends of mine. I do hope that these postcards, together with the coins, will inspire and attract more visitors to this land. Uhm… will you come there?
Istanbul, the first days of spring…
I’m warming myself in the sun on a café’s balcony in the Old Town. The sunbeams are as stunning as the fine strands of newly reeled silk. Meanwhile the old oak trees give their morning greeting to the glossy stone road as their red-brown leaves gently fall. The Old Town is still half-asleep, like a lazy girl who’s turned off her alarm after ringing the first time. Sunlight visits each street, dancing happily on passers-by’s shoulders, making the atmosphere more intimate to me – the traveler’s first time here.
I feel more amorous in Istanbul. I’m enchanted by everything, from sweet lokum to the light sour ice-cream with ground ice on top, or from the gorgeous domes of hundreds of mosques and palaces to their uniquely designed windows, and from the discreet eyes of Muslim girls to the multitude of boards and posters with the images of Besiktas – the city’s legendary football team.
I have fallen in love with Bosphorus Bay since the first time seeing the seagulls hovering in the open sky, creating invisible strings that connect the two continents – Asia and Europe. The clear blue sky is reflected on the deep blue sea, giving me tranquility. I drop my last Lira into the water of the Bosphorus, not to make a wish, but in hopes that they will preserve my memories here. And somehow, the water currents might bring them somewhere else to be found by me again, or might accidentally be stumbled upon by a boy who is playing with sand on a sunny beach.
Tomorrow, I will go to Grand Bazzar, buy some postcards, and write something to leave beneath the sun near a mosque before sending them to some friends of mine. I do hope that these postcards, together with the coins, will inspire and attract more visitors to this land. Uhm… will you come there?
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TH TOÄ SOÑN<br />
Istanbul, nh˜ng ngµy Æ«u xu©n...<br />
T´i Æang ngÂi s≠Îi næng trn ban c´ng mÈt qu∏n cµ ph khu Old<br />
Town. Trong ∏nh næng b◊nh minh, hµng sÂi giµ gˆi lÍi chµo tÌi m∆t<br />
Æ≠Íng l∏t Æ∏ bªng c∏i chao m◊nh nhã b…ng cÒa vµi ÆÓt l∏ Æ∑ chuy”n<br />
mµu n©u Æ·. Old Town trÎ m◊nh ng∏i ngÒ. Næng xin tıng con<br />
phË, phÒ l†p l∏nh ln vai ∏o ng≠Íi Æi Æ≠Íng khi’n kh´ng gian trÎ<br />
nn g«n gÚi h¨n vÌi nh˜ng kŒ l˜ hµnh.<br />
TÌi Istanbul, t´i bÁng d≠ng th†y m◊nh nh≠ mÈt kŒ l®ng nh®ng. M‰i<br />
th¯ Æ“u d‘ dµng khi’n t´i xiu lng, tı nh˜ng vin lokum ng‰t<br />
lm tÌi v chua du cÒa c©y kem Ëc qu’ phÒ Æ∏ bµo m∏t lπnh, tı<br />
nh˜ng m∏i vm lÈng l…y cÒa hµng chÙc, hµng tr®m cung Æi÷n, th∏nh<br />
Æ≠Íng trong thµnh phË tÌi nh˜ng ´ cˆa sÊ vÌi thi’t k’ ÆÈc Æ∏o, tı<br />
Æ´i mæt e dà cÒa nh˜ng c´ g∏i HÂi gi∏o cho tÌi hµng loπt pano, ∏p<br />
ph›ch Besiktas - ÆÈi b„ng huy“n thoπi cÒa thµnh phË...<br />
Th’ nh≠ng, c¨n c∂m næng th˘c s˘ cÒa t´i ph∂i lµ vnh Bosphorus.<br />
T´i Æ∑ yu Bosphorus ngay tı l«n Æ«u tin ngæm m∂nh trÍi n¨i lÚ<br />
h∂i ©u t˘ do Æang m∂i mi’t Æan nh˜ng sÓi d©y v´ h◊nh nËi hai bÍ<br />
¢u - É. Mµu n≠Ìc bi”n xanh ngæt ph∂n chi’u n“n trÍi trong veo<br />
khi’n t´i c∂m th†y lng m◊nh nhã nh‚m vµ b◊nh an. T´i Æ∑ th∂<br />
xuËng dng n≠Ìc xanh ngæt cÒa Bosphorus nh˜ng ÆÂng xu Lira<br />
cuËi cÔng trong tÛi, kh´ng Æ” c«u mong phäp mµu, chÿ muËn nhÍ<br />
bi”n gi˜ giÛp m◊nh mÈt m∂nh ghäp k˝ ¯c. Vµ bi’t Æ©u, bªng mÈt<br />
c∏ch th«n k˙ nµo Æ„, c„ th” chÛng sœ tr´i theo h∂i l≠u Æ” b†t chÓt<br />
mÈt ngµy t´i sœ nh∆t lπi Æ≠Óc, hay v´ t◊nh lπc vµo tay mÈt cÀu bä<br />
Æang nghch c∏t trn bÍ bi”n næng vµng nµo Æ„...<br />
Ngµy mai, t´i sœ chπy qua Grand Bazzar mua m†y t†m b≠u thi’p,<br />
vi’t Æ´i dng, mang hong næng cπnh mÈt th∏nh Æ≠Íng rÂi gˆi tÌi<br />
tÌi mÈt vµi ng≠Íi bπn. Hi v‰ng c„ th” truy“n c∂m h¯ng vµ t◊nh yu<br />
tÌi h‰ Æ” sœ c„ nhi“u h¨n nh˜ng v kh∏ch nh≠ t´i Æ’n vÌi x¯ sÎ<br />
nµy. Uhm... c∂ c∏c bπn n˜a nhä!<br />
ThÊ Nh‹ K˙<br />
lµ n¨i chæp<br />
c∏nh cho<br />
nh˜ng ni“m<br />
c∂m h¯ng<br />
b†t tÀn. H∑y<br />
Æ’n vµ tr∂i<br />
nghi÷m.<br />
Turkey is<br />
an endless<br />
inspiration.<br />
Come and<br />
experience<br />
this mythical<br />
land.<br />
Istanbul, the first days of spring...<br />
I’m warming myself in the sun on a cafä’s<br />
balcony in the Old Town. In the stunning<br />
sunbeams, the old oak trees give their morning<br />
greeting to the stone road as their red-brown<br />
leaves gently fall. The Old Town is still halfasleep.<br />
Sunlight visits each street, dancing<br />
happily on passers-by’s shoulders, making the<br />
atmosphere more intimate to travelers.<br />
I feel more amorous in Istanbul. I’m enchanted<br />
by everything, from sweet lokum to the light<br />
sour ice-cream with ground ice on top, from<br />
the gorgeous domes of hundreds of mosques<br />
and palaces to their uniquely designed windows,<br />
and from the discreet eyes of Muslim girls to<br />
the multitude of boards and posters with the<br />
images of the city’s legendary football team.<br />
I have fallen in love with Bosphorus Bay since<br />
the first time seeing the seagulls hovering in the<br />
open sky, creating invisible strings that connect<br />
Asia and Europe. The blue sky is reflected on<br />
the deep blue sea, giving me tranquility. I drop<br />
my last Lira into the water of the Bosphorus,<br />
in hopes that they will preserve my memories<br />
here. And somehow, the water currents might<br />
bring them somewhere else to be found by<br />
me again, or might be stumbled upon by a boy<br />
who is playing with sand on a sunny beach.<br />
Tomorrow, I will go to Grand Bazzar, buy<br />
some postcards, and write something to<br />
leave beneath the sun near a mosque before<br />
sending them to my friends, hoping that they<br />
will be inspired to visit this land. Uhm... will you<br />
come here?<br />
12<br />
<strong>TRAVELLIVE</strong><br />
Th∂o Nguy‘n<br />
Managing Editor
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