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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cÀu bä, chÛ ch„ nh· Ưng trn<br />
bÍ tham gia cuÈc vui cÒa h‰ bªng<br />
c∏ch sÒa ln inh ·i. Ph›a ÆËi di÷n<br />
vÌi bi”n lµ mÈt b¯c t≠Íng thµnh<br />
cÊ k›nh chπy dµi men theo suËt<br />
con Æ≠Íng. Thi tho∂ng xu†t hi÷n<br />
mÈt qu∏n cµ ph näp m◊nh d≠Ìi<br />
ch©n b¯c t≠Íng thµnh. Thµnh<br />
phË, nhµ cˆa vÌi ki’n trÛc ÆÈc<br />
Æ∏o - Æ≠Íng nät, mµu sæc pha<br />
trÈn gi˜a É vµ ¢u, thÍi gian Æ∑<br />
lµm cho chÛng trÎ ln hfla hÓp<br />
mÈt c∏ch hoµn h∂o - m‰c san s∏t<br />
trn nh˜ng con ÆÂi ph›a sau b¯c<br />
t≠Íng thµnh. V≠Ót ln trn t†t c∂<br />
lµ hµng cÈt Æ∏ cao vÛt cÒa c∏c nhµ<br />
thÍ HÂi gi∏o.<br />
M†t h¨n 25 lira lµ bπn c„ kho∂ng<br />
2 giÍ Æi dπo ngæm c∂nh trn du<br />
thuy“n d‰c theo vfinh Bosphorus.<br />
Tπi Æ©y, bπn sœ d‘ dµng nhÀn th†y<br />
Istanbul nªm væt m◊nh qua hai<br />
lÙc Æfia É - ¢u, ng®n c∏ch bÎi vfinh<br />
Bosphorus vµ k’t nËi bÎi 3 c©y c«u<br />
vµ c∏c chuy’n phµ qua lπi. Chÿ<br />
m†t vµi phÛt qua c«u lµ bπn Æ∑ c„<br />
th” Æ∆t ch©n ln c∂ hai lÙc Æfia.<br />
Khu v˘c c∂ng Sıng Vµng (Golden<br />
Horn) c„ th” n„i lµ khu s«m u†t<br />
vµ hoa l÷ bÀc nh†t cÒa Istanbul,<br />
cÚng lµ n¨i th” hi÷n r‚ nät giao<br />
thoa v®n h„a. Do vfi tr› Æfia l˝ ÆÈc<br />
Æ∏o, c∂ng Sıng Vµng lµ c∂ng bi”n<br />
th≠¨ng mπi quËc t’ quan tr‰ng<br />
vµ lµ tuy’n Æ≠Íng bi”n duy nh†t<br />
nËi bi”n ßen vµ ßfia Trung H∂i.<br />
T´i ln thuy“n lÛc 6 giÍ chi“u vµ<br />
bæt Æ«u rÍi b’n tı c«u tµu Galata.<br />
Næng Æ∑ nhπt, gi„ thÊi mπnh, chÿ<br />
m∆c c„ mÈt chi’c s¨ mi nn t´i Æ∑<br />
rät run. May thay nhµ thuy“n Æ∑<br />
mang tÌi mÈt ly trµ t∏o †m n„ng.<br />
T´i t≠Îng nh≠ m◊nh ch≠a tıng<br />
th≠Îng th¯c b†t c¯ loπi trµ nµo c„<br />
vfi ng‰t vµ h≠¨ng th¨m quy’n rÚ<br />
Æ’n vÀy tr≠Ìc Æ©y.<br />
ThÀt kh„ Æ” di‘n t∂ lπi c∂m<br />
gi∏c khi du ngoπn trn dflng<br />
Bosphorus lÛc chi“u tµ, c∂nh vÀt<br />
hi÷n ln nh≠ trong mÈt bÈ phim<br />
du k˝ l∑ng mπn cÒa Hollywood.<br />
Thuy“n l≠Ìt nhanh trn m∆t<br />
bi”n xanh d≠¨ng. M∆t trÍi bæt<br />
Æ«u l∆n, näm chÔm s∏ng huy<br />
hoµng cuËi cÔng ln c∏c dinh<br />
th˘, l©u Ƶi nguy nga vµ cÊ k›nh<br />
bn bÍ vfinh. H∂i ©u l≠Ón tıng<br />
Ƶn quanh ph∏o Ƶi Europion,<br />
ti’ng ku ch„i tai vµ s∂i c∏nh vÈi<br />
v∑ cÒa chÛng nh≠ cË n›u v«ng<br />
d≠¨ng Æ· Ëi Æang ch◊m d«n trn<br />
bi”n. K’t thÛc cuÈc du ngoπn, t´i<br />
dÔng b˜a tËi tπi Sur Balik, mÈt<br />
nhµ hµng trn l≠ng ÆÂi. Khu v˘c<br />
s©n trÍi cÒa nhµ hµng vÌi t«m<br />
nh◊n toµn c∂nh vfinh Bosphorus<br />
thÀt s˘ Æ∏ng Æ” bπn chi kh∏ ti“n<br />
cho vi÷c gi˜ chÁ vµ tr∂i nghi÷m.<br />
N’u muËn t◊m mÈt n¨i Æ” ®n<br />
tËi gi∏ c∂ d‘ chfiu h¨n, bπn c„<br />
th” Æ’n khu »m th˘c d≠Ìi ch©n<br />
c«u Galata. ß©y cÚng lµ mÈt Æfia<br />
chÿ quen thuÈc vÌi du kh∏ch<br />
vµ lµ n¨i tËt nh†t Æ” selfie vÌi<br />
background lµ c∂nh m∆t trÍi l∆n<br />
trn c∂ng Sıng Vµng.<br />
<strong>TRAVELLIVE</strong><br />
59
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