Walking north from Istanbul’s Karakoy neighborhood along the eastern shore of The Golden Horn, an estuary that is also the world’s largest harbor, you eventually leave the maritime warehouse district and come upon the Ataturk bridge. As you walk westward across this bridge you are departing Beyoglu and will soon be entering the district of Fatih.
Immediately upon exiting the bridge veer right and begin strolling north on the western shore of the Golden Horn.
Here you will be hailed, more than likely, by a friendly Kurd who has a very nice cay [tea] house on a small ship anchored immediately to your right.
I do not recall the man’s name so I have provided a photo for readers.
Although I speak no Turkish, the de facto language of Kurds in Turkiye, and he speaks little English, we communicate just fine.
He brews me a cay and we seat ourselves at a table on the boat with Cumhuriyet, an Istanbul newspaper between us.
Occasionally waves from large boats rock the table hard enough to slosh our drinks onto the newspaper. We look at each other and laugh.
We spend an hour or so in this fashion just enjoying the company; a Kurd and an American on an inlet of the mighty Bosporus in the great and strange land of Turkiye.