Istanbul

Istanbul.

First night in the city, I was tired but not yet sleepy. I look outside my window in the kitchen area of our dorm and I stop. I was captivated by the view.

The tops of beautiful mosques and its minarets dot the landscape.

Below me an alleyway, a certain enchanting rustic feeling emanates from these old buildings—the lone chair in the street, the rotting wood, chipped bricks, and rickety rooftops—created a picture that I have only seen in movies and picture books.

One window to my left was lighted brightly and inside, two bakers were preparing their dough for the morning ahead. Mind you this was 2 a.m. in the morning. One of the bakers noticed me staring out at them from the window and waved. I waved back. Hello Baker.

Hello Istanbul.

I am already in love.