Day 8: Taksim

We have decided to visit Taksim the next day.

Taksim is one of the shopping and entertainment districts of Istanbul, and a famous place to be. To give a general idea of how busy it is, there are 3 Starbucks coffee shops on one street alone. The main street is mainly used by pedestrians, however service and Police vehicles do patrol the street every now and then, causing major discontent among the walking public.

The Police in Taksim drive… Mini Coopers! Yes, they are that stylish!

The architecture as marvelous. You come across every single style you can think of, from Victorian to Byzantine to Brutalist to Arabic to Modern! The greatest thing is — none of it looks fake, and it all fits really well together!

Apparently Taksim hosts some opposition party headquarters or something that the government really dislikes. There was some protest going on, and there were more policemen than actual protesters.

The protesters were yelling some things and applauding. The police didn’t intervene, although they did stand really close to each other and formed kind of a tight circle around the protesters.

 

Of course they had full riot equipment ready!

The tourists and the random pedestrians, however, were not disturbed by the protest. Everything seemed OK. We shopped, had Starbucks, and really enjoyed the place. Even though the personnel are painfully slow, the stores are really nice, and you can find almost any brand you want. I got myself some pink Converse chucks and a Diesel wristband!

Starbucks in Turkey, by the way, is really pricey. Here’s to being a programmer!

Besides the stores, you can find several museums of different kinds. One of these even hosted some contemporary art sculptures dedicated to motorcycles.

Taksim is gorgeous during the night. It is well lit and not any less lively than it is during the day. It also hosts a number of quite cool clubs, some of which play electronic and dance music. I think Taksim’s idea somehow resembles our very own Northern Avenue in Yerevan, except its architecture does not suck balls and people actually live and party there.

Content with my day, I rode my motorcycle back to the Asian side to get a good night’s rest — Sultan Ahmed Mosque was waiting  for me tomorrow!

Day 7: Silivri

“We in Istanbul do not really understand the politics against Armenia”
—Alaattin Balta

The next day I walked out of my hotel and walked to Alaattin’s Honda Service. We were both on the Asian side, and it was no more than a 15 minute walk. On my way I met a real motorcycle-only washing service, and 2 policemen on a Varadero who wanted to wash their bike.

See the couch and the armchairs on the background? That is a general sight here even for outdoor places of least significance (like a motorcycle wash service down in Kadiköy)! The guy resting on the armchair is the owner of the place.

In Honda, Alaattin was already waiting for me. “Your tires have arrived 5 minutes before you!”

While usta was changing my tires and balancing the wheels, me and Alaattin were talking about things. Apparently his grand grandparents had moved to Turkey from Adigey Republic long ago.

“We in Istanbul do not really understand the politics against Armenia”, he shrugged

“So, do you think I am safe here?”

“Of course, no problem at all!”

I wanted to finish early, because I wanted to ride to Silivri to meet some of my Armenian friends who also happened to be in Istanbul with their own affairs. There was also a Portuguese lady who I really wanted to meet. So I rushed Alaattin Bey.

“Women eh?” he smiled wide. I think he was really into women. “Women!~”

Alaattin was really proud of the job his usta did on my bike, and I was pretty happy as well.

“We are connected to Honda’s global motorcycle maintenance system. It is completely online. Every single thing that we did on your bike is recorded in the system. So next time you take your bike to any Honda in Turkey, Europe, USA or Armenia, they will have access to all that information!”

“We don’t have an official Honda in Armenia!”

“Really? How many motorcyclists are there in Yerevan?”

“Very few!”

“Very few? How few? Around 500?”

“Around 50!”

“50? Five and one zero? How many people live in Yerevan?”

“Over a million!”

“Aslan Bey!” he yelled to the chief usta, followed by something in Turkish, laughing.

“I just told him there are only about 50 motorcycles in Yerevan! That is crazy! Maybe I should open business there! Do you think there is good potential? In a million-man city with only 50 bikes there must be!”

I didn’t know what to answer. “Maybe if you promote motorcycles really well, people will start riding!”

“We’ll stay in touch about that” he concluded.

They took the motorcycle off the stand and washed it. Alaattin then rode his beautiful white motorcycle with me to the nearest petrol station where I could refuel.

Turkish 95 fuel looks much different from the Armenian 95 (“Premium” as we call it in Armenia). It is a lot greener and its smell is much more intensely chemical.

“Use  95! 97 fucks your motorcycle! Also be careful for the next 200 kilometers because of the new tires, and be easy on your brakes! Ride safe, call me if you need anything!”

“Thanks a lot!!”

I rode to Silivri. That is about 80 kilometers from the Asian side of Istanbul. After the carburetor tweaks and the new fuel, the motorcycle was flying! I felt like I had purchased a new motorcycle with at least 20 more horsepower!

The way people drive in Istanbul deserves a separate dedicated post, or perhaps a dedicated book. But anyway, the motorcycle ran perfect, the roads were awesome, and I arrived in Silivri to meet Masheé and Dina and spend some fun night at a beach with dozens of young foreign architecture students from all over Europe.