Turkish Muse

Bosphorus Brewing Company

For as many bars as there are in Istanbul, there have never been any pubs. Not until now, anyway. Now that the Bosphorus Brewing Company has opened, Istanbul has its first and very own family-owned and -run English pub, complete with homemade lagers, ales, sausages and mash, and yes, even Sunday roast.

It’s the kind of thing people in Istanbul have been waiting for for ages: a place where they can get good beer – not just Efes or Tuborg or Bomonti – accompanied by decent food with good service in a pleasant atmosphere.

It’s not a lot to ask, really, but in Istanbul – particularly in Beyoglu with its proliferation of identical bars all serving otuzluks of Efes for 9 TL – a good-quality pub has always been elusive, one step above and beyond the status quo offerings of surly barmen whose only qualification is their literal ability to draw a tap.

But the Bosphorus Brewing Company clearly had something else in mind when it opened in mid-November.

There are 5 beers currently on tap, with a stout to come (it was available at opening, but quickly sold out). My personal favorites are the Halic Gold, a lively and strong beer (7.4% alcohol) and the Beer 81.

Just last week, we celebrated a friend’s birthday there, and Jeff and I started off with the 5-beer sampler: 5, 5-cl shots of beer to get a taste of each one. While I liked the Icmedik and the Istanbul Pale Ale, both reminded me quite a bit of what is already on offer in the local beer market. I imagine both would be excellent served cold in the summer time on the pub’s terrace, but after the sampling, I immediately went for a glass of the Beer 81, followed by the Halic Gold.

The food is excellent, as well, and very English -- sausages and mash, beer-battered shrimp, lamb curry, steak in ale, chile con carne (served over rice, very strange to this American), bread pudding and sticky toffee pudding.

The pub was packed last weekend, its second after opening, which was a good sign but of course not entirely unexpected. Any new place here attracts an immediate and large crowd, which can quickly wane as the months wear on and people grow bored and search out the next new thing.

While the Bosphorus Brewing Company is a boon for expats, pub culture does not really exist in Istanbul. As foreigners were pounding back beers last weekend, a large table was crowded with Turkish people, many of them women, each of who appeared to sip one beer over several hours. Clearly, local café culture -- in which people sit for hours sipping 2-3 teas and paying 3 TL for it -- will not transition well to a British pub.

Still, the Bosphorus Brewing Company offers something no one else in the city does, and for that, it is very likely to develop a loyal and faithful crowd.

More info: Bosphorus Brewing Company website

Last week in Istanbul

I saw this from my friend's balcony and I sucked my breath in, suddenly reminded of all the things I have always loved about Istanbul and the people who live there, things that can get lost in the day to day business of living when you forget about the majesty. Views like this -- they always make want to try harder, reach farther and and sing louder.

 

Conversation in Sultanahmet

I scanned the rows of park benches and one by one ruled out all those I couldn’t sit on. Family of tourists, no room for me anyway; young Turkish man who might get the wrong idea; elderly couple having a romantic moment in the dwindling sunlight.

A middle-aged woman sitting alone at the edge of one bench caught my eye and I approached her.

“May I sit here?” I asked in Turkish.

“Of course, of course,” she said, moving an eighth of an inch closer to the edge of the bench, the way polite people do when there is no need to make room but want to appear welcoming.

I sat and put my bags next to me, clutching the straps through my arm. It was still touristy, I told myself, you never know who might try to take your bag.

From my bench, I had the most beautiful view of the Sultanahmet Mosque, lit up by the setting sun, sparkling behind the water fountain’s mist. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been here in so long. I hadn’t ever noticed how many locals were doing the same thing I was, just sitting, staring, contemplating, maybe a wee bit in awe of how strikingly beautiful the view was.

I remarked as such to the woman next to me.

“It is gorgeous, isn’t it?” she nodded in affirmation. “I love coming here.”

She asked me what I was doing in Turkey, and I told her I lived here.

In Istanbul? No, I said. Izmir.

“I hate Izmir,” she said, vehemently. “I went there last year and hated it.”

I was surprised and said so. I’ve met very few Turkish people who don’t like Izmir. I asked her why she didn’t like the city.

“There’s nothing there, nothing at all. It has no soul.” Here she nodded knowingly, as if imparting some kind of sacred information.

“Now, Istanbul, Istanbul is something else, isn’t it?” she said, and it wasn’t really a question the way she said it.

We sat in silence for a moment, watching the seagulls swooping wide and low over the mosque.

“I’d offer you some tea, but I don’t imagine you carry a teacup with you,” she said with a smile, gesturing with her own hour-glass teacup, which she had produced from a canvas bag carrying a thermos filled with tea.

I laughed. No, I said, I don’t have a teacup in my purse, but thank you for the offer.

We sat in silence for a while longer, and then I stood up to go.

 

A Gorgeous Flat in Turkey

It's been a bit heavy on words around here lately, what with all the talk of what we'd do in the event of a disaster in Turkey and nostalgic trips down memory lane in Istanbul. Today, because it's Monday, the first day of the work week, because I'm tired and you probably are too, I'm doing away with the words and sharing instead some photos I took of my friend's gorgeous flat.

I trekked over to Sultanahmet, where she lives, and fell in love with the abundance of textures and colors and wanted to share them with you. I'm not a professional photographer, but I did my best to capture just how pretty this space was. Enjoy!

 

A Life Once Lived in Istanbul

I took a walk today in Istanbul.

I was at breakfast in Cihangir when I decided to walk to Taksim the long way and pass the apartment we used to live in before we moved to Izmir two years ago. I hadn't seen it since we left, and since I was alone, I was free to cater to my whims.

On the way, I passed the pet shops where I bought 10-kilo bags of cat litter and searched, in vain, for felt mice for my cats to play with. I walked by Susam Cafe and remembered that when Jeff and I first came to Istanbul, we used to eat fajitas there.

I passed the Cihangir Manav and wondered why I didn't buy fruit and vegetables there more often. I walked by the three-storey house I toured when we were searching for an unfurnished flat to rent and wondered who decided to move into a house where the front door opens straight into the kitchen.

And then I turned onto the street where Jeff and I last lived in Istanbul. This wasn't the first house we lived in -- that one is three streets away from the second one -- but I didn't go by there today. 

The building, which used to be a mint green color, is now a soft yellow. The windows were open on the top-floor flat where we used to live and I noticed that the screens Jeff and I had put in after our cat fell out the window were gone.

I wondered if the people living there now had cats. I wondered if they, too, cursed that awful bathtub that was too high to climb into. I wondered if they barbequed on the balcony the way we did.

I stood outside the building and thought about all the parties we had in that apartment. I thought about the friends who came for dinner and stayed the night and made us breakfast in the morning. I mostly thought about all the people who had passed through the front door for food, for drinks, for company, some of whom are no longer in Turkey.

I thought all this and was glad to be wearing my large sunglasses so no one could see the tears filling my eyes.

Suddenly those two years we lived in Istanbul felt so far away, like another world, another time. I felt like a different person than the one who lived in that two-bedroom flat with four cats. Suddenly I was fiercely sad for that old life in this city.

I finally tore myself away from the building but I couldn't stop my nostalgia. I walked up towards Taksim and meandered down Istiklal, remembering the cafe where Jeff and I used to eat ice cream and the bar where we celebrated a colleague's birthday till 2am. I noticed that even though so many things were different, so much of the city looked the same.

I miss this city. I miss that time.

 

Would We Stay or Would We Go?

In the aftermath of the Japanese earthquake several months ago, interspersed with heart-wrenching stories of people rendered fatherless, motherless, childless and homeless by the earthquake were stories of foreigners living in Japan who were wondering what to do now that their homes and lives had also been destroyed.

I read those stories with a lot of interest because I, too, am an expatriate living in a foreign country on a major fault line. I was shocked by what I read in some of those news reports. Foreigners abandoning their cats and dogs, their homes, their friends and jobs, all for a one-way ticket back to their home countries. To be sure, some stayed, openly defying the wishes of their governments who had arrived to evacuate them out of the country.

Those stories made me think, of course, about how I would react in a similar situation. What would I do if there were a massive earthquake in Izmir and my house was destroyed? What would we do if the unthinkable happened here?

What would I do with my four cats? I would never leave them behind in any situation, not if I could help it. I've read that Americans being evacuated from Japan were not allowed to take their pets with them, and I thought, "How awful!" To me, and to a lot of Americans, our pets are part of the family: they go where Jeff and I go, no matter where that is in the world.

If an earthquake leveled Izmir, what would I do with all my possessions? My washing machine and bed and clothes and carpets? I'm not worried about the monetary value of such things or having to replace them, but wouldn't it be my responsibility to clean up at least my part of the mess? To dredge away my refrigerator to the landfill instead of making my neighbors and friends do it?

The thing is, Turkey is my home. It's been my home for almost four years. And though it isn't my forever home maybe, it's where I live now. I have made friends here and my neighbors like me. How awful would it be to abandon them if an earthquake were to hit Izmir?

A lot of my expatriate friends don't live in Turkey for work; they have jobs, yes, but they come second to their lives. They, like I do, live in Turkey because they like it here. We like the people and the culture and the food. It is where we have chosen to be at home, and Turkey has welcomed us graciously. If something happened here, I can't really imagine myself turning my back on Turkey.

Have you ever thought about these things? Am I the only one with these crazy thoughts? Maybe I worry too much. What do you think you would do?

My Favorite Thing About Turkey: Soaking up Istanbul's Past

We're wrapping up a week of people's favorite things about Turkey with a guest post from long-time Turkish Muse reader Dion Good.

Past the Blue Mosque, down the hill beyond the end of the old Hippodrome toward the Marmara shore, away from the tourist crowds, is a sleepy neighborhood clustered around one of the oldest structures in İstanbul, Kuçuk Aya Sofya (Little St. Sophia).

The mosque itself is nestled right up against the old city wall. Enter the compound and make an immediate right and you will find yourself in one of the loveliest çay bahçeler (tea gardens) in all of Turkey. It occupies one side of a courtyard complex that was once part of a church cloister (the mosque was originally a Byzantine church, and you can still see Latin inscriptions on the walls inside). It now houses a cultural center and a couple of book shops in addition to the çay bahçe. In the center of the courtyard is a garden with a fountain, and shade trees.

Surrounded by cool stone walls in the shadow of the mosque, the past is present here, more so than in more famous places thronged with tourists. It is a dreamy place, where, for a few hours, you can read a book and forget which century you are from. Ottoman tombstones dot the mosque’s yard and a rear gate opens onto an ancient cobbled street which leads away along the original sea wall.

The mosque has been renovated recently and some of the decrepit buildings around it have been torn down. It is almost a pity; some of its character has been lost. Yet I will continue to come here each time I am in İstanbul, because it is a place where the past still feels accessible, where one can feel connected to the river of life which is history.

About the Author: Dion Good is a cartographer living in San Francisco. He has worked for Lonely Planet, Affordable Travel Press, Art-Sites Press, and The Intrepid Traveler.

My Favorite Thing About Turkey: The Kindness of Strangers

The Turkey lovefest continues today! Today's guest post is brought to you by Phyllis Nobles.

I’ve been in Istanbul teaching English for 14 months now. And while I’ve studied successful blogs and started up a half dozen of my own, there’s always the morning that I wake up and take everything down. I even blogged from Venice in February, but once back in Istanbul felt I sounded so Elizabeth Gilbert [editor's note: EG is an American writer best known for her 2006 memoir "Eat, Pray, Love") that I deleted 26 of the most beautifully photographed posts you will never see.

You have to know that I am no Elizabeth Gilbert. Meaning, I’ve tried. And trying to be EG has to date cost me about $30,000. A long story from 2008 involving a Molotov Cocktail of an already desperate financial situation, a Doubleday editor who helped acquire "Eat, Pray, Love" who asked to see my unfinished manuscript, Credit Cards R Us, oh, and a recession. Ah, 48. Such a naïve and complicated age. Back when I thought I needed to model my life after someone else’s.

Which brings me up to Barbara, and her gracious offer to let me post while she’s in Paris. Barbara so wisely said about my blog crisis, I’m sure that as you continue writing you will find your writing niche and your blog will feel more like home to you. Which brings me to my favorite thing about Istanbul: the kindness of strangers.

People who don’t even know you and need nothing from you who hold out their hands. The guy at the bakery who offers you a bite of something sweet. Or the olive and the pistachio men at the grocery. The bus driver who spots you — the crazy American walking on the edge of a dangerous highway — and gives you a ride back to the city. The family out in the country whose garden you admire who invites you in for tea.

And these guys whose photograph I wanted to take who made me sit down first to talk — even though they don’t really speak English and I don’t really speak Turkish.

I’ve found something very retro American, circa late 1960s about Istanbul. Back when we cared more about people than about money. And happiness. Which brings me up to one morning last week when — thanks to Barbara’s advice that I thought about all evening — I woke up a million miles from home at home inside my own skin. Something that has miraculously solved all my blogger problems. And, I suspect, my Elizabeth Gilbert Complex.

About the Author: Phyllis Nobles is from Oxford, Mississippi, USA and is editing "Cowgirl Up: How to Write a Best-Seller in a Chick-Lit Market", "totally 20☮ how i spent my economic crisis" and a new blog at The Sweet Life of Phyllis Nobles.

Ask the Expat: Should I move to Istanbul or Izmir?

It's been a while since our last Ask the Expat post, but I've got a vexing question from Viviana today about whether she should move to Istanbul or Izmir:

Dear Barbara, My name is Viviana, I am from Italy, but I live in China (Shanghai). My husband and I are moving from China to Turkey in a few weeks! Nevertheless I write to you because we are still indecisive between living in Istanbul or in Izmir. The main doubt is about the job opportunities that are available. My husband is a lawyer with expertise in commercial-international law and has good experience in different European markets and in China (he has lived in Shanghai for 5 years). He speaks German (his mother tongue) and fluent Italian, English and Chinese. Unfortunately he still doesn’t speak Turkish! Here in China I teach economics in an American Business School. I had previously 5 years of experience in an Italian consulting company. I speak Italian (mother tongue) and fluent English and Spanish. Again...I don't speak Turkish yet!

The reason why we decided to move to Turkey can sound “strange”, but reading your interview I felt good and I thought you could maybe understand us. After a long time in China we really need to get closer to Europe, to our culture and tastes…like good Mediterranean food!! Nevertheless, we wouldn’t like to go back home, but we prefer to experience a new culture and to enjoy the beauty of wonderful Turkey! We are also considering to have children in the near future and from this point of view I would consider Izmir much more suitable than Istanbul! Then…it is a great DILEMMA! If we knew that in Izmir we could have more job opportunities, I think we would choose it… We are going to commit ourselves very much in our job research, but we know it will take a lot of patience and time! Can you give me your opinion? Thank you very much! Your help to foreigners approaching beautiful Turkey is PRECIOUS!

Cheers, Viviana

That is indeed a dilemma, Viviana! A few considerations stand out to me after reading your letter: 1) that you both are looking for work; 2) that you are interested in Mediterranean food (and, I am assuming, a Mediterranean lifestyle); and 3) that you would like to have children in the near future.

As for number 1, Istanbul is your best bet, hands down. The majority of working foreigners in Turkey find jobs in Istanbul as the country's other cities simply don't offer the same kinds of job opportunities for foreigners who don't speak Turkish. That said, if your husband wishes to continue practicing as a lawyer, the only way he can practice law in Turkey is by learning Turkish and then passing the bar exam in the city in which he wishes to practise. This is a pretty big feat to accomplish in and of itself, and because there is already a ready supply of qualified Turkish lawyers in the economy, law firms tend not to hire foreigners with little experience of the Turkish legal system. (UPDATE: Check the comments for more info on how to be a legal "consultant" in Turkey!)

As for you, being a teacher makes your job prospects much easier. It is not necessary for you to teach in Turkish as long as you can find a school that uses English as its predominant teaching language. I'm sure you already know about the Chronicle of Higher Education, but you can check there for job opportunities available in Turkey and to research various schools here. You can find some more information about finding work in Turkey here.

Of course, that's not to say that finding a job outside of Istanbul is impossible! I know plenty of foreigners who live outside of the city who have jobs; you just have to be a bit more creative to find them.

As for Mediterranean food lifestyle, Izmir's certainly got that -- plenty of fresh food, easy access to numerous coastal towns and beaches in summer, a very chill laid-back vibe. However, the city is far from being an international and cosmopolitan one. I've written before about Izmir's lack of an international air; then again, I've also written about how much I love my neighborhood.

If what you're looking for is a city where lots of different people speak lots of different languages, Istanbul is where you need to be. The vibrancy of Istanbul simply cannot be matched anywhere else in Turkey. On the other hand, if you're looking for good Mediterranean food, want to have children and are maybe looking for a more laid back life-style, Izmir's probably where you want to be.

It's a tough decision for you to make, Viviana, and I don't envy you for having to make it, that's for sure! I've lived in both places now, and my answer has always been Istanbul over Izmir, even though that's where I live now. The more I stay in Izmir, the fonder I grow of it, but I love Istanbul much more, I consider it home, and I would choose it any day over Izmir. Best of luck with your decision, and let us know what you decide!

Readers, what advice or suggestions do you have for Viviana?

Çengelköy, Istanbul

We're having a bit of a cold snap here in Izmir, and from what I can tell from my friends' Facebook feeds, Istanbul's having one too. I don't mind it though because I know that in no time the heat will descend upon us here on the Aegean and I will be whining and whinging about how hot it is.

But the chill coming off the water these days does remind me of a lovely trip I took a while back with a good friend of mine in Istanbul. It was late summer, the heat was stifling and we escaped it by heading north to Çengelköy, a laid-back suburb on the city’s northern Asian shore.

Çengelköy is not the Istanbul most tourists know. There is no hustle here, no pushy salesmen, no “Yes, please, do you want to buy carpet?”. This is a place where locals come to escape the city’s oppressive summer heat or celebrate the start of spring and unwind before the start of another busy week.

Just getting to Çengelköy is half the fun: Board a ferry at either Arnvavutköy or Bebek and drink in the view of Istanbul from the Bosphorus. (On Sundays, take a ferry from Beşiktaş to Üsküdar, then a taxi or bus.) When you disembark, stroll through the small streets, taking in the local butchers, sweet shops and used bookstores.

But undoubtedly what everyone comes to Çengelköy for is its famous café -- the Tarihi Cinaralti Aile Cay Bahcesi -- that allows you to bring your own breakfast while waiters scurry around in figure eights, skillfully doling out tulip-shaped glasses of Turkish tea from heavy silver trays.

There’s not a tourist in sight in the entire tea garden, just Turkish families, young couples, and groups of friends enjoying the Bosphorus breeze on a steamy August morning. Some people lay out red-and-white checkered tablecloths and open plastic containers of cheese, olives and sliced tomatoes. But many more will load up on savory pastries and sımıt, a sesame-seed bread ring, at Çengelköy’s fine bakeries to have with their tea.

For something truly special, visit Seval Pastanesi, Çengelköy’s oldest bakery, which specializes in French-style macaroons and savory petit fores. Don’t leave without trying the salty corn, feta cheese and dill pastry (called mısır petit fore in Turkish).

I won't be back in Istanbul again until next month, and I am afraid there won't be any time for a leisurely trip north, but I've already got my eye on Çengelköy for the summer, for one Sunday morning when I get a hankering for some cool Bosphorus air and a macaroon.