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