Sometimes when I travel
long distances I like to think about how many different forms of travel I have
used and how far I’ve gone.
This usually only happens
when I’m travelling 12,000 miles (around the globe). I recall a particularly
arduous time travelling from Edinburgh, Scotland to Wellington, New Zealand. Interestingly,
both cities are capitals, but neither are the largest city in that country –
just like Turkey.
Yesterday I found myself
having similar thoughts even though I never left Istanbul.
In the morning I went to
the Asian continent on an otobüs (normal bus). Each way was relatively short –
just 20-30 minutes. On the way there I started from the terminal station and so
I got a seat. On the way back I was standing. I’d say it’s pretty common to be
standing – say 80% of the time or more.
Later in the day I
travelled to a student’s home in Bahçeşehir. This was the first time I’d
travelled by myself to his house. Prior to travelling I’d looked at the
internet for a long time checking out the location and how to get there. This
entailed looking at two different maps of Istanbul, because whilst one has very
good aerial views the other shows the bus stops clearly.
What I hadn’t factored
into my travel plans was that I was travelling in darkness. I guess I’m still
getting used to the idea that at 5pm it can be pitch black outside.
I left home at 5.30pm and
returned at 11.30pm. This was for one class! An hour and a half class!
First, I headed off to the
bus station and found the correct bus. Luckily it was just about to leave.
Unluckily it was very crowded being peak time for people returning home from
work. I just managed to squeeze in the door.
5 minutes later we
actually took off – after another 5 people managed to “just squeeze in the
door”. You can imagine the “sardines in a tin” scenario.
So here I am seriously
squashed in between a man and a woman on a journey to a city I’ve only visited
before by car. Due to my careful research I knew which bus stop I needed to get
off and I had a small map printed off the internet in my pocket. I was feeling
reasonably confident that I’d be successful. Much more so than I usually do. To
explain – I get very nervous when travelling to new places solo. In fact it
would be fair to say I literally panic.
I completely lost track of
the time on the bus because I was focused on not banging into the women whilst
being pissed off with the man who was elbowing me. In actual fact it’s
impossible to not bang into people. You just have to manage it as best you can.
And if you want pay credence to local custom you need to be particularly
careful of bumping into women (as a man). Unfortunately this is because of the
lewd behaviour of the local men on public transport. I can’t relate the stories
I’ve heard on a public “family” forum.
At some point, as is often
the case in such a confined space with huge amounts of human body heat present,
I started to boil. I took off my jacket, which in itself was a bit of a mission
with so little room. In the process I ended up bumping at least 3 different
people. Nevertheless by the end of the trip I was sweating even though it’s the
middle of winter.
After standing for what
seemed like an inordinate amount of time, being in bumper-to-bumper traffic,
and suffering a driver who fancied himself as a rally driver in peak traffic,
we finally came to the first stop.
As I looked out the foggy
window (a combination of the cold outside and the heat inside) I realised that
there were no physical bus stops and no signs either!
At this point my anxiety
started to set-in. My well laid-out plans weren’t going to help me so much. I
hoped that this might be just for the early stops as they were in the middle of
nowhere. I figured that once we got to more populous areas that there would be
actual bus stops with some indication of which bus stop they were.
You can imagine my
disappointment then as we moved from stop to stop and the same pattern emerged
– no signs.
A problem that occurs when
I get stressed or anxious is that my body temperature rises dramatically. So
not only was I sweating from the heat, the turbo-boost had been turned on as I
was also sweating from being anxious.
Time for plan B. Actually
I had no plan B so I was making it up on-the-fly. I noticed that we passed a
Migros supermarket and recalled passing one the last time we were here in the
car. Initially I thought this was a good thing. I had found a recognisable
landmark.
As we passed it the bus
went through a roundabout and travelled along a windy, twisting round. I
definitely didn’t recall this from the previous visit. So at the next stop I
got out.
Not being able to see so
well outside I didn’t realise that the place I had got off the bus was in the
middle of the motorway. Fortunately there was a restaurant nearby which I went
into and asked where Bahçeşehir was.
Now if you’ve ever
travelled to a country where English isn’t the mother tongue and you don’t
speak the local language you’ll be familiar with the fun process of asking for
directions. Added to that in Turkey is the desire of the Turks to be
ever-so-helpful. Their enthusiasm can sometimes lead you in the wrong
direction, which I believe isn’t their intention at all – it’s just culturally
polite to be helpful in some shape or form.
I didn’t feel overwhelmed
with relief with their answer. They gave me the impression that it was a long
way away. But the first step they explained was simple enough – just walk 100m
down the road.
What I didn’t know at this
stage was if I was in front of or behind my intended destination. Nor did I
know whether the journey required to get there was a foot one or a vehicle one.
Knowing how infrequently
the buses are at that time of night I didn’t fancy waiting at the cold, exposed
bus stop. Hence I started walking along the motorway – not a pleasant
experience at the best of times.
I called my friend and
tried to explain where I was and what I was doing which only lead to her being
stressed as well. However, it was necessary, because only she could explain to
my student (beginner level) – a friend of hers - that I would be late.
Some time later I came
across a small collection of shops. I asked a man, who was waiting for a ride
outside on the street, to talk to my friend on my mobile to help her understand
where I was so we could form a plan of action. Although I didn’t understand
what was being said I could tell from the body language and tone that there was
some confusion as to our location. Nevertheless he seemed to understand where I
wanted to go.
I spoke to my friend and
realised she wasn’t entirely sure of the location so we agreed to go into a
local shop and ask again. Inside, the young man I approached seemed to have no
clues at all. His respones on the phone were monosyllabic and very short.
To my surprise, when I
spoke with my friend she told me that he knew exactly what to do and where to
go and that he would tell me himself. So I hung up the phone and he proceeded
to be the fountain-of-all-knowledge. And to my relief his instructions coincided
with those we’d received from the man we’d spoken to outside.
So off I trundled again
along the motorway, which thankfully soon became a normal street. After walking
the prescribed 100m (this seems to be the local distance regardless of how far
it is. Much like in Thailand where every cheap item tourists want to buy costs
20 baht regardless of what it is) I realised it wasn’t 100m at all. The road I
was on stretched into the distance and in fact I couldn’t see the turn that I
needed to take at all.
What else could I do but
continue walking?
Again I called my friend,
more just because I needed to get some morale support than anything else. I
continued walking for some time and eventually saw the turning, which in fact
was a fork in the road. I knew I needed to head left, which was supported by
the fact that to the left there was a big shopping mall whereas to the right
there appeared to be more dark streets. Regardless of which was correct I felt
more comfortable heading towards civilisation than away from it.
Again (again) I called my
friend. To her delight she knew this series of shops at the end of which was
the cami (mosque) she had been talking about earlier on. This was a huge
comfort to me as hitherto I hadn’t really known if I was on the right road,
going the right way, or making my future journey shorter or longer!
She said I was very close
and gave me directions to get there. To add to my still sweaty condition, which
was more unpleasant by now as I was stripping off clothes, even though outside
there was a sharp bite to the coldness. My face and hands were freezing but my
general body temperature was high enough to keep me cooking.
Approximately 20 minutes
later I hit another group of shops. I knew I had to find the Onur Market. But
scanning this group of shops a few times I realised it wasn’t here. I dropped
into a shop selling washing machines and the lady confidently told me it was
just up the road – which it was!
Then I turned right and
for the first time saw a landmark that I recognised. It was the entrance to the
residential complex that my client lived in. I expelled a huge sigh of relief
and texted my friend I was safe and sound.
As I continued climbing
the step hill a funny thought occurred to me. This particular complex was only
affordable to the very well off. As is usually the case with some of the more
expensive housing areas their complex is fenced off from the general public and
they have their own security people at the gate. It sounds serious but it’s
not. You simply explain who you are here to see, they call them on the phone to
confirm you are expected, and then they let you in.
The funny thing to me was
that it must have been one of the very few times that someone was walking into
the complex. As I sauntered on up to the security gate the guard had a
sceptical look on his face. I’m sure he though I was in the wrong place.
My client and his wife had
big smiles on their faces as I arrived as surely my friend had been keeping
them abreast of my movements. Needless to say I was relieved to take my shoes
off and sit down and relax.
[Intermission – for you J I’ll keep typing]
As part of the planning
that I’d done prior to embarking on this epic journey I’d discovered that there
was no public transport directly available from their home when the class
finished. I’d been told that the client would drive me to the nearest transport
link, although when it came to it he wasn’t particularly enthusiastic and in
fact was talking to my friend about other options.
Nevertheless he did take
me, which I must say I wasn’t overly comfortable with. He’s the client after
all and I didn’t like it that he had to leave his warm, comfortable home so
late and in such horrible weather.
He dropped me off at a bus
stop. Naturally I had no idea where I was. I simply waited for the first bus to
arrive.
Upon arriving I had an
amusing interaction with the driver. I asked him if his bus went to Mecidiyeköy,
which is where I live. Thinking about it now it was a silly question as it
clearly said it went to Bakirköy on the front. I guess it could have gone in a
very circular way to reach Bakirköy (which is nowhere near M’köy).
He went on to explain -
the little that I understood - that I could get on his bus and change
somewhere. Now to the layman this might sound simple enough, but, due to my
lack of confidence, I didn’t take him up on his offer, which probably would
have been the simplest thing to do.
And so I waited. And
waited. And ... During this time 3 mini buses had passed and then finally
another otobüs which was going in another direction. Rather than wait
indefinately I headed up the road and went into a petrol station to ask
questions.
A second factor that
affects me when anxious is that I get hungry. Hardly surprising as I’m burning
up nervous energy at an epic rate.
I grabbed a Coke and asked
about directions home. I really didn’t understand much at all, but it was clear
that the buses stopping here wouldn’t get me home. The cashier gave me some
very elaborate directions, which I didn’t follow, so I decided to take a mini
bus instead.
Most mini buses hit a
metrobüs (rapid transport) station at some point in their travels. And so it
was with the one I got on, although it didn’t say so on the front, which they
usually do. I asked which metrobüs station he was going to and was disappointed
to hear it was Sefaköy. I’d not been out so far before. Fortunately though I
knew where it was and I knew that I could get home from there either on one or
two metrobuses.
The thing with mini buses
is that to maximise their returns (you pay in cash as you get on) they tend to
travel on back streets where the buses don’t go and travel in the most
non-direct ways imaginable. Essentially they cover the routes that the buses
don’t.
Usually they cover pretty
short distances connecting people across the major public transport routes or
between local shopping centres. Prior to this trip the longest mini bus ride
I’d been on was 15 minutes. This one was 1 hour!
Even when we got there I
couldn’t see the metrobüs station. A friend of the driver understood that I was
lost and helped me find the station.
Now it was just a case of
waiting for the metrobüs, standing on that for 40 minutes and I’d be within
walking distance of my home.
So let’s summarise:
1.
Walk – 10 mins
2.
Otobüs - 1
hour maybe?
3.
Walk – 5 mins
4.
Walk – 15 mins
5.
Walk – 30 mins
6.
Walk – 10 mins
7.
Car – 10 mins
8.
Wait – 15 mins
9.
Mini bus – 1
hour
10.
Metrobüs – 40
mins
11.
Walk – 10 mins
Total travel time:
something like 4 hours
Total class time: 1.5
hours
All for a bit of coin….
