Istanbul feels like the middle of the world. The city itself straddles two continents, sliced by the Bosphorous strait that separates Europe from Asia. But the geography just feels like the physical expression of a culture that resists falling cleanly into one box or another. On the same street you’ll see a woman in a hijab covered to her ankles, a girl in a crop top with half blue hair and fishnet stockings, and a flamboyantly gay guy in a muscle shirt and makeup (but they’ll all be smoking a cig). The call to prayer rings from the minarets 5 times a day but it’s also legal to walk around with an open bottle of beer.
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I’ve been in Turkey for 28 days and haven’t written a word about it. Apologies to my heartbroken fans ;) Lately we’ve taken the approach of pretending like we’re living here rather than visiting, sort of soaking it all in more passively and taking our time for granted. It’s been so lovely and writing a blog post felt a bit at odds with our little charade.
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