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I know I am home and my fantastic trip is over. I have put off writing about Istanbul because I know that nothing I write or say will capture this amazing city. How does one write about the crowds that throng the streets and the bazaars? How can I write about the smell of roses constantly filling the air? Or the haunting calling to prayer of the muezzin? The cries of the birds or the sounding of the ships? The pungent odour of spices in the market? The streets glistening after the rain is over and the brilliant sun returns? The music? The beauty? The decay? The generosity of people? The craftiness of the vendors? 

Anything I try to write will be pale as compared to the authentic so I shan't. What i will invite you to do is to make Istanbul a destination point sometime in your life. I know that its note resonates within me and that I will find myself going back to the city that bridges two worlds - European and Asia; past and present; Christian and Muslim: fantasy and reality.


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