Istanbul

Riding through the streets of Istanbul is strikingly different than riding through the streets of Ankara. Old houses and new mixed together. And by old I mean Ottoman Empire old. They're old, wooden and falling down but for one reason or another cannot be torn down. So they sit. There are the fish sellers. They occasionally sell fresh fish and occasionally they sell fried fish sandwiches. There are the fresh stuffed muscles on the dock. Yes, the dock. Three famous bridges, several famous docks, uncountable ferries, tours of the Bosphorus, tankers and freighters, and various fishermen plying the choppy waters in various forms of fishing boats. Ankara is where I live. Istanbul is where I wander.