I’m used to travelling to the max. To get up at 7 o’clock in the morning, to have an early breakfast and to walk around cities the whole day long. I enjoy communicating with locals, drinking coffee in cosy coffee shops, having lunch in small restaurants, watching sunset somewhere on a shore or on skyscraper roof and coming back to a hotel late at night.

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Oh, yeh! And what should I do when travelling with a five-year-old child?

On my arrival to Istanbul with Misha, I took my usual pace. Except that we got up at 8 in the morning.

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Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat – I’m walking along the quay. ‘Pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat’, – my son’s saying to my ear. He’s sitting on my shoulders. It’s a tenth kilometer of our walks. In previous days, he used to ask me to give him a ride on my shoulders somewhere after midday, because his feet were tired.

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But today his feet got tired a bit earlier. As soon as we left the hotel. That was why I have to carry him since early morning to late night.

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The child is tired. I’m tired as well. It’s hard to keep up with such walking pace, several flights and a ton of emotions.

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We come back home rather late. Around 23:00. And for dinner we have traditional corn near Blue Mosque.

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And today I’d like to illustrate this post with photos of night Istanbul. Some of them were taken from his level, others – from the level of him sitting on my shoulders. But all of them were taken by him. The experiment is ongoing.

Hello, Istanbul!

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