writingaboutpaintings

They say travel far enough , and you will meet yourself. This year has been one hell of a rollercoaster ride. I have experienced many new things that have been terrifying and I realised how important is it to (quoting my students), YOLO. Indeed, this phrase that has been coined by the new generation was something that I would like to experience. I have always been a paradoxical person. I give off vibes as if I were an extrovert (even described as boisterous according to an Englishman I met years ago), but fundamentally, I am really introverted. I also can be sometimes paranoid, but if you were to ask people who know me, they would also say that I am brave and spontaneous. So who is the real me? I guess no matter how confusing I am , these are all me. So this post is going to be about the time where I tip the scale much more towards ‘brave and spontaneous’, or completely bonkers as people said. This was their very reaction when I told them that I am going to cross one item from my bucket list- to visit Turkey alone. According to them, with its close proximity to Ukraine, the the recent terrorist attack in Istanbul on thirteenth of November, and the fact that I was going to be alone meant that like I should not have done it. Spoiler alert, I finally bit the bullet and booked a solo trip to Turkey. Of course I was getting cold feet a day before my flight, I am only human. This trip however , turned out to be the most liberating thing I ever did for myself.

My ‘cold feet’ hit freezing point especially on the day of my flight. It did not help that the trip was scheduled barely two weeks or less after the incident at Taksim Square. I was dragging my feet the morning of my flight, trying not to overanalyse too much about everything and taking the last couple of hours before my evening flight to run errands. I even went back to my office to grab my selfie stick. I was deliberating if I should use it, because I hated being one of the stereotypical Asian tourists who walked around with that ugly equipment of vanity. A selfie stick almost shouts ‘look at me ! How vain and shallow I am!’ However, I decided that I was going to be alone and I don’t mind being seen as being vain and shallow. In the spirit of YOLO, I was going to ignore what other people thought about me. Trust me , my youth has seen me in constant fear of what others might think about me. Maybe in the spirit of throwing caution to the wind, I would disregard some mental constraints that I have always had to.

I found my boss at work, and was following her around the office due to sheer anxiety. My boss and I had a great chat , and she even got me a cup of coconut berry bubble tea before she dropped me home. The comfort of being at work and around familiar people made me all the more reluctant to go to this unknown terrain and embark on this experience. After I reached home , everything became a blur and I just was on autopilot mode going through the motions and getting myself to Changi Airport. The flight to Abu Dhabi went better than expected. I was in the middle seat which I absolutely hated. Thank God I was wedged between two small sized aunties who were nice enough and shared their food with me. We all exchanged knowledge on how to toggle the entertainment system infront of us. Then came my 10 hour 30 minute stop over in Abudhabi which really was kind of hellish. Fortunately, I did not have to pay for the lounge with my priority pass. It wasn’t worth even a dollar in my honest opinion, as it was dirty, the air was filled with smoke coming from the smoking room and the place was terribly cramped.Ten hours thankfully came and went by despite the conditions , and I was ready to hop on my second flight.

It was only on my second flight to Istanbul that my sense of trepidation really came alive. This flight was thankfully shorter at three hours and forty five minutes, which also made the fear of being alone in Turkey even more imminent. I typed to L, the nice girl who arranged my tour package , and she assured me that I will be just fine, which helped. There were thankfully , many many free seats on the flight and I enjoyed the extra room with a glass of wine that was untypical of me. In usual circumstances , I would choose Coca Cola over any type of alcoholic beverage anytime. I watched the hostess tilt the wine glass. To my horror , she poured me a whole glass filled to the brim. Needless to say, by the time I reached Istanbul , I was nauseous and tired . I was greeted by a driver, R, who spoke zero English and tried the whole time to engage me in conversation using google translate while he was driving . At a certain point, trying to use google translate to speak , motion sickness and being nauseous took its toll on me and I was ready to puke in the car. R was nice enough though , he got me to sit in front and allowed me to open the windows. After an arduous one hour long journey, I finally reached this quaint little hotel, Hotel S.

I was greeted by the owner , a sweet middle-aged man who immediately gave me his WhatsApp number in case I had any enquiries. Although I was extremely exhausted and nauseous , I left my luggage and then ran out to visit the magical Basilica Cistern. Looking it up on google maps even before I took the flight , maps showed me that it was 1ten to fifteen minutess walk from my hotel and I was dying to see it immediately! This alluring place was every bit as I imagined it to be. It was mysterious, magical and haunting. I have never seen anything like this before in my life. Atmospheric music was softly playing while the colour within the Cistern changed slowly from blues to reds, intensifying the dark beauty of the underwater Basilica. Various sculptures emerged from the darkness, inviting one to fix their gaze , enchanted by its strangeness. There was a sculpture of a hand reaching out from the depts of the water , as well as other figures that enigmatically appeared and disappeared among the columns.

As I was finishing my rounds in the Cistern, I suddenly recalled the highlight piece- the twin Medusa heads, and was wondering why I did not see them. I guess I was too bewitched by the spectacle in front of me , I was distracted. On my way to the exit , I heard a voice call out ‘ do you mind taking a pic for us please??’ I turned and found a bunch of lovely tourists from Australia who said sure. I went on to snap a few pics for the group of tourist whom I later found out were from Australia. They returned the favour and took shots of me. After I said bye to these nice people, I decided to walk backwards to find the elusive Medusa heads. I wasn’t going to leave without seeing them. I finally found these ancient stones of the Gorgon, and admired them while tilting my head and body to look carefully the strange positions they were set in. None of them were upright. No one knows why this was so , but someone told me it could be if she looked at you in an upright position, you would probably turn stone-cold as her. Makes sense.

I was surprised to find another sculpture of the monstress that looked way more intimidating and terrifying than their ancient original counterpart. This sculpture looked in flux, almost alive while it created it’s twin-the most horrifying shadow in its depths. I could not decide which was more terrifying – the sculpture or its shadow. The new addition of the new Medusa certainly added an interesting element of horror in the already dark atmosphere. After my mission to see the Basilica was accomplished, I took a walk around the Sultan Ahmet area and admired the busy streets, and returned back to the hotel for my much needed rest.

I didn’t realise how much I needed to rest until I found out that my key didn’t work with the room door. Since I can be rather retarded when I am sleep deprived, I had tried to open the room door with my house keys. I called C( the hotel owner up) , and he immediately told me it was the wrong key I was using. To further prove what a retard I was, I made another faux pas . C brought me to the garden with the tour agency lady(L) to look around. I pointed at a window staying , how come the lights are on when my key cards are not in. C immediately said,’ that is not your room’. Embarrassed, I told him I will get my intelligence back when I have had enough sleep and he said ‘inshallah’, which I know translates to ‘god willing’. That really tickled me. He clearly thought I was retarded as well.

The most terrifying Gorgon.

That night , I also had dinner with L , who arranged the entire tour package for me and has been a sweetheart from the start. It was a lovely feeling to meet someone you had been corresponding with on WhatsApp over a meal. I imagine a lady my age with long curly hair , but she turned out to be a beautiful young lady who was very enterprising and capable for her age. I must say that L gave me the confidence to book this trip that I was going to go for solo. She kindly told me that I will never be alone there and she is always one text away. She kept her promise as throughout the trip , she always responded to all my texts immediately. At the Shish Kebab place, L introduced me to her favourite drink, Ayran , a yoghurt drink with salt. I personally feel that it is quite an acquired taste , but I can’t help but also think about how healthy is to drink fresh yoghurt instead of Coca Cola. We bonded over the meal, and I am sure I was being a pain asking 1000 questions about Turkey , but L looked like she thoroughly enjoyed answering all my pain-in-the-ass questions. L told me that she is currently doing her dream job. I believe her. She is amazing at her job.

I spent the whole of the next day exploring Istanbul alone and walked past a costume shop on the way back from the Grand Bazaar. I would usually scoff at such tourist traps. This time however, I decided that if I want to YOLO, then I should go big or go home. I couldn’t help it but to fulfil my fantasy of being a character in the show Magnificent Century. Everyone watches the series back home , and everyone developed a special interest in Turkish culture after watching the period drama. I entered the shop , I was told that I could pick any costume they had there. All of the costumes were made of lush velvet. I took one random outfit off the shelf , and it weighed like, I kid you not, at least five kilograms. Their pieces had all kinds of metallic detailing or beads beautifully accenting parts of the dress which contributed to the hefty weight.I looked at the pretty girl (the one who welcomed me in) and told her that I love her outfit (Cobalt blue velvet with a headgear that had a veil running at the back).I expected her to find me a similar one, but was horrified to see her start undressing to give me her costume. I then hurriedly told her I would find one off the rack and I went on to pick a gorgeous red ensemble. Red has always been my colour. Did I pick the right one though? There were so many choices available. Emerald green was richly luxurious. Cobalt Blue always brings out the colour of my skin tone. Yellow traditionally would give me a burst of radiance. I attached a picture here so you be the judge? I was a little disappointed my headgear didn’t have a veil though.

My first Turkish friend.

In another life , I was a Sultana.

My day alone was soon over , and a beautiful new morning dawned on me in the city. My first day of tour started with my young , but incredibly charming tour guide , Muti. Legend says that Turkish men are very handsome. Even my male friends who have been to Turkey can’t stop gushing about the beauty of Turkish men. They were not wrong. I was joking with a colleague that I might find a Turkish Delight (not the confection) or two there, and Muti was the first who I mentally qualified to be a Turkish Delight. He has an earring in one ear and this reminds me of a man very special to me who also has the same earring in place. Muti was professional and knowledgeable. He was also open -minded and spoke English with an American accent. I was also accompanied on this tour with Muti by many other tourists, such as a mother and son pair , Anima (whose gorgeous name means soul in Spanish and Italian) and who by the way carried the name very well with her soothing energy and positivity, D who is a Filipino nurse from Australia (just came from watching the Fifa World Cup), M, Brazilian who barely spoke English, as well as a pair of Indian couple currently living in Abu Dhabi.

With such great company , we were off to explore the Bosphorus.It was a cold and rainy day , but we were sheltered on the cruise. I have to say that the only gripe I had that day was to be fleeced a great deal of money over a Turkish delight purchase at the Spice Bazaar (a place we visited right before we went on the cruise). I found a way to gripe to the Brazilian (M) about my loss. Even though we were both lost in translation, I guess being fleeced is a sentiment that transcends languages, and he laughed out loud incredulously as I told him how much I paid for a box of Turkish delight. I will not say how much I was fleeced because it would just upset me all over again. That same night , I was supposed to meet a bunch of people at the Bazaar, but got stood up. I only found out no one was coming while I was standing outside the Grand Bazaar. On the way home, I bought some street food and bagel with Nutella and began to angry-eat while I stomped home.

On the Bosphorus Bridge

The next day was the start of another amazing day and I quickly forgot the episode of last night. To my relief, everyone who stood me up the night before did not attend the tour. Muti was my guide again ,and I was glad to see some farmiliar faces from the day before. We were brought to the Sultan Ahmet Mosque aka Blue Mosque , but since the interior was undergoing works, there was nothing much to see at the moment. This was really my first time stepping into a mosque, and it was an interesting experience covering my hair and taking off my shoes.

Our first real stop after the Blue Mosque was the iconic Hagia Sofia which technically is a mosque , but was many other things such as a church, museum etc. It was a Saturday and the queue to enter was incredibly long , but it was worth it.In the apse of the Hagia Sophia , I could still see the Virgin and Child sits surrounded by a vast expanse of gold. I always wondered how I would feel watching a beautiful Church being turned into a mosque , but I feel surprisingly neutral about it . I guess I had mentally prepared myself for it.

Sultan Ahmet Mosque (AKA Blue Mosque)

The Christian frescoes that still remain at the entrance. This place is so familiar yet I take a few steps in and another new world awaits.

My new friend from the United States.

A whole new world, contrasting the Christian mosaics at the entrance. No pun / reference to Aladdin intended.

Hagia Sofia. Church/Mosque/Museum/ Tourist Attraction. All in one.

It was soon lunchtime, and we were feeling peckish. We had lunch at the usual restaurant, and then made our way to a shop selling Turkish delights after which we proceeded to the Grand Bazaar. At the shop, I met a young man from XinJiang who had the saddest look on his face as he was facing discrimination in his country. As I waved him goodbye, I felt so much sadness for him and his family situation. I recall watching some TikTok videos on this racial genocide and was deeply shocked for a moment. I can only wish him well. I felt bit guilty that we were all enjoying ourselves on our holiday while this young man was facing very real issues that he totally doesn’t deserve.

Starters at lunch included Dolmades (or Sarma in Turkey). My favourite!!! They are little bundles of joy with rice wrapped in grape leaves.

The itinerary brought us to Topkapi Palace, which was home to all the Ottoman sultans until the reign of Abdulmecid I (1839-1860), a period of nearly four centuries. The palace consisted of four courts and a harem. This Imperial Palace served as the main residence and administrative headquarters of the Ottoman Sultans, but what I was interested in was the royal life that took place against this luxurious backdrop. I guess Topkapı Palace is likely to have more stories , gossip and scandals than a field day at the paparazzi office. Magnificent sultans, ambitious courtiers, beautiful concubines and scheming eunuchs lived and worked here between the fifteenth to nineteenth century when it was the court of the Ottoman Empire, and it was where all the drama in all of Turkey congregated.

The tour ended at around three pm, afterwich I went to have a lovely drink with the boys (with L, the son of the mother-son pair) ,as well as D the Filipino nurse. D and I both wanted to try Turkish coffee and we both agreed that if we hated it as we expected to , we would switch to alcohol. I have never personally met a non-Turkish who likes Turkish coffee, and would stare in awe as my Turkish friends enjoy them after a meal. I recall trying the coffee on Arab Street at home when I was young and I never forgot the taste. Our order arrived, and we both made funny faces as we took a sip. I finished half of mine (with a lot of effort) while D barely took a sip of his. We then unanimously decided it was alcohol time for our trauma. It was a great evening as these lovely boys made great company while we sat at the outdoor area on a slope full of shops near our hotels , while I snuggled under the fleece blanket that the restaurant provided as we talked about life .

I’d say that Turkish coffee is the equivalent of the Singaporean durian. Only the locals love it.

We then returned to our respective hotels to wait for L’s mother to wake up at 9 pm and all four of us went to dinner together. We congregrated at the hotel of L and his mum and went on to find a restaurant to grab a bite. On the way to dinner, one restaurant owner stopped us and he asked if we wanted to enter or if we were hungry. L said no he was not. Then we proceeded to the next restaurant and decided to eat there. Do not ask us why we didn’t choose the first one, I have no answer for that. We finished soon because it was already 11 pm and D and I both had to wake up at three am for our travels to our next destination. After we finished our meal ,we left the restaurant only to cross the first guy who tried to invite us to his restaurant prior to us choosing a restaurant. The same guy looked anguished as he asked L, ‘Brother , I thought you said you weren’t hungry???’Then he continued talking to us giving us grief for going to the other establishment . After I said bye to my friend , I had to pass the same man who said ‘You! I am going to catch you tomorrow!’ which really tickled me. Mentally , I imagined that he was going to come get me with a gunnysack the next day just to get me to dine there.

No idea what I ordered that night , but it was good.

That night I got zero sleep knowing I was due to wake up at three am. This knowledge that I had three hours to sleep made me completely incapable of relaxation. As I packed my stuff begrudgingly , wondering what I was doing to myself with such a crazy itinerary, I heard a thud and realised my toiletry bag had fallen into the toilet bowl. I have no choice then but to throw everything away and this put me into an even worse mood. At 3.45 am, I tried to lug my luggage downstairs with a lot of difficulty, while the sweet guy who was at reception heard me and hurried up to give me a hand. My driver came right on time , and I have to say that the transport I was picked up in was nothing like I had ever seen in my life. I was cranky , sleep-deprived and confused. BUT I ALSO FELT LIKE ROYALTY.A picture paints a thousand words. refer to the picture to see what I mean.

I arrived in Cappadocia the next morning. I guess I was spoilt by the climate in Istanbul and did not expect this burst of cold air that hit my face the moment I walked out of the airport. I checked the temperature on my phone and I saw that it was zero degrees. Whattttt???I looked up from my phone and saw M (the Brazilian who stood me up, at the airport in Cappadocia.) If you recall , I was stood up a few days back at the Grand Bazaar. One of the people who stood me up was M. I realised this guy wasn’t so truthful because he said he was leaving for Egypt a few days back . I guess because he doesn’t speak English, he gets away with all the inconsistencies. I soon boarded the bus and was on the way to my destination . I took the place in , and found a Cappadocia that looked almost like metaphysical, one that you would find in a Giorgio De Chirico painting. Arid, desert-like , with high-rise timeless looking buildings in a world where time seems to stand still. It almost looked like Singaporean apartments that had fallen into a time warp and desert. It was like a dream where nothing made sense. I guess I fell into dreamland myself pretty soon as I subsequently became so sleepy that I actually fell asleep with my mouth wide open and woke up to find my new iPhone 14 under my converse high cut sneakers. I was happily stepping on my new phone under my shoe as I slept. What can I say ? I am a destructive sleeper.

Right out of a Chirico painting.

I arrived after an hour or so and found U , my tour guide greeting me at Heaven’s Cavehouse. It was too early to check-in so we left my luggage at reception and joined the tour. I felt bit uncomfortable with this new group because they had done a tour a prior day with U and I was the newcomer who felt like it was the first day at school all over again. Just for context , I gave my tour guide the alphabet U for Unpredictable because he says everything with a straight face and you never know if he is really angry or he is joking.

U had asked me if I have a hot air balloon ride lined up. I said no, and he said that I definitely have to go on one. I was convinced when an American lady overheard this and said ‘If you do not take the balloon ride, it’s as if you never came to Cappadocia.’ I immediately agreed and U hooked me up for a ride for the next day. On hindsight, I have to say that I was extremely blessed because my friends who were due to go on their balloon ride the day after me told me that their rides were cancelled as it was too cloudy the next day. I was ready waiting for my pick-up at six am. I felt ok, as I gone gone to sleep at 7 pm the day before. My minivan arrived and consisted of a bunch of chirpy Spanish tourists who were way too merry for the time of the morning. They were laughing happily and talking loudly the whole time which mildly grated on me.

After I alighted the car, I was greeted by massive hot hair balloons in various states of being inflated. The air was cold, but the heat from the balloons warmed me up nicely. It was a real spectacle to see this preparation stage. There was the sunrise just around the corner lighting up the sky, while the fire was being set up to inflate the gigantic balloons. To be honest , I always saw hot air balloons in pictures or books and never imagined them to be so monumental in size. I was then handed a goody bag that the guys told me were my breakfast and was then asked to climbed into a massive hot air balloon with a makeshift ladder. It was at this point when I thought to myself that I should only travel while I am still nimble because that took one massive acrobatic feat.

The sun lurked over the horizon , almost as if it was waiting for its turn to rise. It was as if the sun was waiting for us to ascend before it does, almost whispering to us ‘after you’. The whole scenario was absolutely captivating. In that particular moment , nothing else mattered in my life. It was only the beauty there right in front of me that was moving me to tears. (And no , I am not usually a crybaby). I was also placed in the same ‘carriage’ as a lovely Thai lady and her Swiss husband who were lovely company for the one hour that we were among the clouds. Up there in the sky , a new friendship was born! There was even champagne after the ride to celebrate a successful journey in the sky. While the guys were celebrating a smooth and safe ride, I was really toasting to all the beautiful things in life. Friendship, courage , freedom, a new day as well as life itself! Chin chin!