Heybeliada

Heybeliada's streets.

Istanbul's narrow streets, cluttered alleys and overflowing streets can grate on the nerves after a few months in the city.  Walking around in my neighborhood of Kadıköy on the weekends, there's barely space on the sidewalk or in the roads - pedestrians overrun our seaside streets on the way to the ferry terminal, to the nearby restaurants or the bus stations and everything in between.  During the week, the only redeeming quality of my two hour, round trip commute to school just outside of the city is that toward the end of the journey, I can gaze out the window over fields and mountains that only goat and sheep dare to trod (just yesterday I watched a shepherd lead his flock of sheep around our school and across the road). As the sprawling city is left behind, my eyes fuzz over and readjust to open space again.

A few weekends back, we decided to search out that fuzzy eye feeling by heading to one of the average Istanbullah's (read: person from Istanbul) escapes: The Princes' Islands.  

Going up.

The Princes' Islands are an archipelago in the Sea of Marmara.  Nine islands in total, they have played a variety of roles throughout history, starting with the Byzantines.  Over a thousand years ago, the Byzantines used the islands to host outlawed and exiled princes and other royalty.  After the Ottoman's seized the islands during the Siege of  Constantinople in 1453, they used them for similar purposes.  During the 20th century, the islands became a luxury spot for those looking for a quick escape from the city.  Many famous Turks have lived on some of the islands and apparently Leon Trotsky lived on one after he was expelled from the Soviet Union.

The view from the top.

We decided to go to Heybeliada - Saddlebag Island - for the day, the second largest in the island chain.  It's an oblong island with two rising peaks, and the taller rise plays home to an 11th century Greek Orthdox Monastary overlooking the town.  The seaside is lined with fish restaurants and taverns, churning fresh fish like hamsi - a fresh fried anchovy usually from the Black Sea.  The sleepy town has no vehicles, save for a horse cart or two plodding along.  Animals own its forests and fresh air abounds, offering a drastic change from Istanbul, just in view across the water. 

A cat and some bread carts.

With no map and little background knowledge of the place, we just walked.  Then we walked up.  We reached a small trail that continued around the higher parts of the islands and offered stunning views out over the sea.  On the trail, we bumped into some other yabangees (read: foreigners) and they told us to head into the woods, for at the top, marked only by a few footpaths, was a tiny ruined fortress.  Sure enough, after stumbling through the forest anxiously, we found an old ruined pillbox-looking watchtower.  Maybe half a millennium ago, Janissary scouts peered out, keeping watch over the sea and guarding their charge: Istanbul.  Who knows?  Not me.  

Recess time.