Every Stone

There can’t be more than five or six flights leaving Kiev at any given time. The airport can’t possibly sustain it.

The first level of Borispol, including ticketing and check-in, is very much what you expect from a developing country. Downstairs there’s bad traffic outside the airport and the air is heavy with exhaust. You fight your way through to the door, and there are people lounging randomly throughout. There’s no floor space, every bit taken by a person or a cart, and the entirely place just feels noisy and claustrophobic. Almost temporary in quality. There are ticket counters for all of the various airlines, most closed. Still only scattered English, making figuring out procedure very dicey. Managed to get to check-in, and the bag weighed a blissful 13.8 kg thanks to B and E, who adopted some of my things to transport back to the States with their own baggage, lightening my load enough to take inter-Europe flights. (Kiev to Turkey still has a 20 kg limit.)

An escalator, strangely out of place in a terminal that seemed not to have been updated since the 1970s and designed with dysfunction in mind, up to passport control. The second level is just as nice, and probably cleaner, than most European airports. The lines for passport control and security were very short, the attendants very efficient. Customs asked how much cash I was carrying. My answer was too small, because he nodded sadly and wished me good luck. Security was relaxed but not lax. I left my baggie full of liquids in my purse, and she just looked for it instead of scolding in front of the line, as they tend to do in the States. At least in Dulles. I was at my gate an hour early. A Lebanese-American guy made conversation, giving me my third warning about Istanbul, and proving again that a solo American female traveler seems to attract more attention in Ukraine than in Nigeria even. Or perhaps just friendly attention and helpful advice, which is welcome when not prolonged.

Two hours later I was in Istanbul. The descent is among the most beautiful of any place I’ve ever traveled. It’s a stunningly different place, at least from anywhere I’ve been, and it’s beautiful from above. There’s the startling light blue of the Black Sea fading sharply to navy along the shore and a diverse sampling of architecture nearby and throughout the city. Arrival went smoothly, and twenty minutes found me in possession of a 90-day visa, a new stamp in my passport, and my luggage. Fantastic. Exiting I was targeted by customs, clearly a rigorous department that operates primarily by sitting and watching travelers pass — when it doesn’t interrupt their private discussions — and randomly selecting the least troublesome-looking specimens from the crowd occasionally for a token search. My straightening iron and polo shirt checked out, so I was allowed to pass and find a sketchy “taksi” to take me to my hotel.

The hotel I’m staying at is centrally located in Sultanahmet near some of the most amazing sights of Istanbul. Today I took advantage of the early afternoon arrival to walk by and check out the Grand Bazaar, Aya Sofya, and the Basilica Cistern. Tomorrow I’ll be on a full-day tour to see those, and the Topkapi Sarayi and the Blue Mosque. Sunday I hope to take one of the public Bosphorous cruises. I finalized my plane ticket and hotel for Athens today. I’ll be leaving Tuesday morning. Monday’s adventure are yet to be decided. I wish I had more time and could go to Cappadocia and along the coast to Marmaris.