mornings in Istanbul

Mornings in Istanbul were a breeze of fresh air promising new beginnings. Each came with free motivation to touch the sky. The critically brainstormed to-do list was filled each day, with aspirations along with an estimated plan. While stuffing the very authentic Turkish breakfast, we held our heads high and with pride, prepared to conquer the list.

There was a joy in climbing down the beautifully laid down cobbled streets. The streets took us back to the Roman era influencing our temporary smiles. Temporary because we soon realized that the opposite direction on those same beautifully laid down cobbled streets would still be a moment, but not so much of joy. No matter how intrigued we were about the Basilica Cistern, or trapped into the Egyptian Spice Market, there was always a voice reminding us of the upcoming evil – the uphill. Little by little, one baby step at a time, we managed to distract ourselves – the park at Tophane, a yoga place to the left, and a little shop with fresh fruits & vegetables where each day we made analytical decisions of what not to buy so that we won’t have to carry it.

Evenings were a blend of empathizing with our tired bodies while patting on our backs for seizing the day – a check-mark on workout, and a promise to never do that again. Evenings were filled with deep sleep and reaching the state of zero consciousness, not even to realize that the morning awaits.

And then back to square one where mornings in Istanbul were a breeze of fresh air promising new beginnings.



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