Chapter 5 - Walls, Whispers, and the Weight of
TimeThe ride was long, and I arrived in Istanbul bleary-eyed but buzzing.
With a population nearing 16 million, the city was a living organism—
sprawling, ancient, and alive. Cycling the final 22 kilometres from the
bus station to the city centre was a chaotic ballet of dodging traffic
and deciphering signs.
Istanbul is not only massive but also ancient, with a history spanning
over 2,600 years. Istanbul is a city of names: Byzantium,
Constantinople, Istanbul. It has worn the crowns of three empires—
Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman—yet today, Ankara holds the title of
capital. Still, Istanbul reigns in spirit.
The allure of exploration tugged at me, yet the crisp morning air kept
me snuggled under the covers longer than I’d planned. Eventually, I
reluctantly emerged from my cocoon and hopped on my bicycle,
making my way to a nearby shop to have it boxed up for my flight to
Cairo. With that task complete, I meandered across the iconic Galata
Bridge, a vibrant artery that spans the Golden Horn and connects the
historic districts of Karaköy and Eminönü. Below, the lower level of
the bridge was alive with fishermen and bustling fish restaurants,
while the upper level thrummed with the energy of pedestrians and
trams, all woven into the fabric of this enchanting city.