Ever since the legendary Hazerfan Ahmet Celebi went gliding off Galata Tower – literally on a wing and a prayer – in 1674, Turks knew there was no dearth of ways to turn a trip to the other side into a veritable adventure – provided of course one was slightly insane. But you don’t have to emulate the daring exploit of history’s first successful birdman since the mythical Icarus to have a fun time crossing the Bosphorus. Here are some ideas to go by:
“Swim Forrest, Swim!”: That’s right, swim across. If a cow could do it, so could you. Bosphorus literally means “ford of the cow,” based on the Greek myth in which Io was turned into a cow by Hera as punishment for the former’s having copulated with the latter’s husband Zeus, who thought just because he’s a supreme god he could have his way with anyone he wants. Typical. As if that wasn’t enough, Hera went on to pursue Io across these straits (And you wonder why the recent adultery law was such a big deal in Turkey). Thankfully, you will not have to escape the wrath of a supreme goddess, though you would have to deal with no less a danger: rusty oil-tankers and reckless ferries. That’s why the only time you could really undertake this feat is by participating in the next Eurasian swim (which is held every summer), or by going out really early in a little motor boat and doing the approximate one mile swim before the sea traffic picks up. Be warned: even though this has been done, it’s not actually legal, and unless you don’t mind ingesting the odd jellyfish or have something to prove, DON’T DO IT!
Go across in a fishing boat: It happens. You’re drunk, it’s nearly sunrise, and you’ve met the love of your life in some club or bar (remember, you’re drunk). You want to do something romantic (still drunk). You take a cab (or stagger… drunk) down to Karakoy, Besiktas, Bebek or Ortakoy and you find a quaint, diminutive old fisherman with a bushy moustache and a limp preparing his little launch for a day’s fishing. You slur what few words you know in Turkish (gee, maybe you’re drunk?) and he speaks in some unintelligible accent (not made any more intelligible due to the fact that you’re, well, drunk). Soon you’ve invented a hybrid form of Tarzanish/Pidgeon English/finger language with which you’re able to agree on something in the vicinity of 20 to 30 million TL symbolized by three fingers followed by a double open-palm flash of the hands and the “words” töventi, töventi, I go töventi. There’s no official price – it just depends how well you haggle, bicker, and generally act outraged. Before you know it, you and the love of your life (what was this person’s name?) are rocking and rolling on the choppy waters of the Bosphorus as the sun comes up right in your face like a penitentiary searchlight. You feel a little guilty, but alive. You think “Carpe Diem!” and move in to kiss your lover, before deciding it might be a good idea to vomit over the side first. (Quick note: try and throw up alee so as not to leave a technicolored coating on the hull for the poor fisherman to clean up later). When you find yourself all sobered up on the other side, in god-know’s-where, holding some stranger with heretofore unnoticed skin blemishes, shivering as people in suits pass you by on their way to work, try not to panic. The ferry back takes off from Üsküdar every 15 minutes.
Take a helicopter across: Imagine you’re in a Huey from Apocalypse Now as the Ride of the Valkyries blares in your head (or the theme from Miami Vice, if you prefer) and you make your way to Asia by helicopter. Now imagine your wallet disintegrating like a barn-house on fire as Vietnamese anti-aircraft guns (or the Cuban mafia, if you opted for the Miami Vice theme) bring you spiraling down in a ball of flames on the other side. That’s right, be prepared to pay up big time. The Ciragan-Kempinski hotel can give you a breathtaking tour over to Asia for US$600 per half-hour. It could be a special gift to that certain special someone, like your fiancee, or your mom, or that customs official you need to bribe. Go to www.boutiquehotelsistanbul.com or www.ciragan-palace.com for more information on renting a helicopter.
Go under the Bosphorus: Wait, not yet! The Turkish Chunnel – or “Marmaray” – hasn’t even begun to be constructed, but when it is (scheduled to be completed by 2008), you will have the opportunity to jump on a train that will proceed through a tunnel bored underneath the seabed of the Bosphorus, connecting Yedikule to Üsküdar in just 4 minutes traveling time. Why is this so exciting – or alternative – you ask? Well when you consider the likelihood of a major earthquake hitting Istanbul in the near future, the prospect of being caught on high-voltage train tracks in a confined space beneath soft ground under hundreds of cubic meters of water pressure certainly gets the adrenalin going. I don’t know what the cost of a ticket will be yet, but frankly it seems passengers are the ones who should be paid to use the Marmaray – unless of course your idea of a good time is a joy ride on the Kursk or the Challenger.
…Or just do the normal thing: In a city like Istanbul, the normal thing doesn’t necessarily mean the boring thing. Where else can you ride a ferry for the price of a shoe-shine as you sit back, sip your tea and take in the Bosphorus, Haghia Sophia, Topkapi, the Blue Mosque, the Golden Horn, Galata Tower, Dolmabahce, Maiden’s Tower, Haydarpasa, Üsküdar, the Marmara Sea, skyscrapers, Europe and Asia, all in the blink of an eye? You can just hop aboard from Karaköy, Besiktas or Eminönü. And where else can you cram into a dolmus, contorted like a circus freak with one cheek squeezed against a window, the other cushioning someone else’s elbow, passing fare money back and forth amid the exotic odor of sweat-dried flesh and humid socks, generally feeling like Houdini trapped in an Edgar Allen Poe story…? Hm? Why in Mecidiyeköy or Levent, of course, from whence buses and dolmuses can whisk you across to Üsküdar faster than you can say “What did I do to deserve this?” Whoever said public transport can’t be fun?
