A jaunt called Istanbul

The historic seat of Eastern Christianity and the Ottoman

empire captivates and enthralls, an empire of the tourist senses

IT is interesting how one flies through

many time zones and undergoes

complicated procedures to reach a

destination nowadays. Not to mention

the bumpy ride.

Well, I thought Istanbul should be

interesting enough in this aspect, and

with fall in the air, it should be quite

colorful! You see the first time I had

been there was during summer.

Afterward, I told myself that on my

''next'' trip, spring should be the

season to come visit and see all the

fruit trees in bloom.

One can't help but be impressed by the omnipresent buzz of

history as one approaches this ancient city. For there are many

civilizations that have traversed the Bosphorus on both its

Asian and European riverbanks. From the Far East, the

legendary Silk Route with its precious load on camel-back,

comes to its end here. Nearby classical Greece and the

Hellenistic period are strongly felt. The Roman Empire made

Constantinople its capital in the East. The Islamic Crusades

reeled its mighty scythe and lone star to conquer way beyond

these territories, paving the way for the rule of the Ottomans.

Today, of course, Turkey is modern.

Although Istanbul is not the country's capital, it is the most

visited metropolis in this country. It is Turkey's most splendidly

captivating city.

I take a walk through a part of town that lonesome afternoon

before my traveling companion arrived, to better concentrate on

this article for which I have made just this one purpose: To

attempt a connection between this piece and my previous one

about Manila using gardens as the medium.

Filipinos in Turkey

It is Sunday. I ask the concierge where the nearest Catholic

service is and he tells me it is right next to the hotel. Great! Enter

the Basilica and then I am right in Manila! Pleasantly surprised

by the warm greetings extended by the Filipinos gathered there,

I feel even greater! We hear Mass together while my vision

strays around into the heavily trompe l'oiel-ed surfaces.

I walk around Beyoglu, a modern addition to the old district that

is entirely surrounded by a battery of walls, perhaps a couple of

centuries old, entirely made of bricks and stone, not unlike

Intramuros. Perhaps this could be the only basis for connecting

the landscape of Manila to that of Istanbul.

The scenery is impressive in a romantic manner, sometimes

imposing when you reach the grand boulevards with their

tree-lined promenades. The public parks are very well kept, just

as in Manila, although they seem to have more room here. There

are the woods. The flowerbeds by the palaces lead to

boardwalks and outdoor cafis that dot the riverbanks. You are

also surrounded by minarets and metal-domed mosques that

make Istanbul quite unique in this world.

Plants are quite evident in the everyday life of the friendly

residents of this city. I observe the grapevines growing over

tiny intersections in the residential areas. Where there is no

space on the ground for planting, they use these climbers on

trellises and arbors, which take on the wall and the sky as well.

People and place look so completely harmonized by this setting.

Resting areas

The more I get into the center of town, the more I notice its

resting areas and the walls around them. It is not only there for

travelers to rest their tired feet and bums while gazing at

something quite pretty, but also a refuge where one can

contemplate life and its wonders.

Park benches, monolith blocks, even the occasional lamps are

wrapped in stucco walls painted in vibrant colors of russet,

ochre and reds. Others have contemplative shades of lavender

and mint. Older walls are made of stones piled up with the odd

brick details. More often these walls lend themselves so well to

the untended ivy clinging on and add its own special moods

and textures to the surfaces. Together they provide an elemental

and ever-changing framework.

From the outside, everything has a tendency to look natural and

simple. But perhaps it is a disguise that does not even whisper

the profuse wealth of culture hidden behind these fagades--for

spirited interiors of the Ottoman edifices are rich in

embellishment.