At one point, most likely during one of those brazen moments that can only be the result of a delicate state of inebriation, I started to refer to myself as a “writer”. Yep, *hiccup* I’m a writer. Soy escritora.
Now, I’m not saying that I don’t make a living writing, but I, in my truest sober state, find it hard to even convince myself that I am any where near what a writer should be.
And my recent trip to Istanbul proved that, in spades. In fact, I’m kind of angry at Istanbul.
You see, as expected, my first trip to Istanbul took my breath away … and my words. It has basically left me speechless and I’m kind of frustrated about that. I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to come up with something eloquent and brilliant that adequately describes the city, but appropriate words escape me. I simply can’t find anything to say. Is “majestic” right? Meh. “Glorious”, maybe? More meh. “Enchanting”? “Mystic”?
Meh, meh and bleh.
I think I’ll just have to say it’s “stunning plus”. That’s alright isn’t it? I mean, I never claimed to be Hemingway here you know? I’ve got stuff to do today. I just can’t be sitting around here trying to describe things to you. Just take a look at the damn photos, okay? Sheesh!
The Blue Mosque:
So, obviously these two buildings are the most emblematic of Istanbul, but there is so much more to this city and so much more I want to show you. It’s one hell of a city. (That sentence also took me 10 minutes to come up with.)
I’ve got a ton of photos to post soon so stayed tune for more photos and of course, more Hamatha grumblings, okay?
Disclaimer: Actually, I’ve got a ton of blurry photos and a couple of not so bad ones to show you. Always the giver, Istanbul made me realize that, not only am I a wordless writer, but also a poor photographer. Thanks again, Istanbul.