"It's about 15 minutes walk up a very steep hill... but it's only ruins, not a whole castle..." a slightly disappointed tourist informed me and a pair of South African journalists I met on the ferry traveling up the Bosporus. Pfft, only ruins.
It was way more than "only ruins." We entered the broken down kale or fort after climbing a steep road for about ten minutes. Several of the villagers sat along the pavement selling pillow cases and charms to ward off the evil eye. Broken brick and limestone littered the entrance to the fort, and several military signs warned us not to go through certain doors. Several dozen Istanbulus were hanging out around the ruins. A teenage couple had climbed on top of the broken wall and were gazing out over the Bosporus.
The South Africans and I found a shady spot on the far side of the kale where we took some photos and took in the view. To our right the last reaches of the strait gave way to the Black Sea, which stretched toward the blue-gray horizon. On our left we could see the European side of the straight which was speckled with houses, some old and in the Ottoman style, some new and concrete. They stood out against a green backdrop not unlike the forested foothills of the Appalachians.
It doesn't get much more scenic than that. Or so I thought. Today I took a bus from Istanbul to a town called Safranbolu. Safranbolu is a UNESCO town; it boasts tons of original and restored Ottoman houses. Nestled in the green hills of north-central Anatolia, the town springs up from a meeting of several valleys. So far it's amazing, but it seems to lack Istanbul's cats.
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