Life is Good Today (Part 3)...

... And that was just Saturday...

On Sunday we went out to celebrate Jenna Fikes' birthday.

Her and I had both been really excited to try this bar that we had found on spottedbylocals.com.

The place is called Karga, and it looked cool.

Little did we know that we had found the best bar in Istanbul.

Of course, the first requirement for a gem is that it is advertised very little. Check. This place doesn't have a sign, an ad, or even writing letting you know you've found it.

Instead, there is simply a little logo above the door:

It opens up into an old, converted four-story bar. At the entrence is a DJ booth lined with CDs from a huge variety of genres (Radiohead was the choice when we were there). Every floor has it's own mini bar, and is pock-marked by random assortments of tables, chairs, artwork, and unique lighting.

It's simply fantastic. It's what every bar should aspire to become.

And they had Guinness on tap. Got my St. Patty's Day in, after all.

Sláinte.

Life is Good Today (Part 2)...

...And that was just Friday.

Obviously, after that day/night we all slept in a bit for a later start.  

We got going and again took the long trek from our dorm to Sultanahmet. Today, we were going shopping.

See, normally, I'm not a big shopping guy. But there's this place in Istanbul that makes the act really fun. This place is called the Grand Bazaar.

Credit where it is due: Anadolia.com

I mean, when that: 

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is one of the over 20 gates to your mall, you're doing something right.

We were smart enough to limit our time in the bazaar to an hour and a half, because if you don't do something like this, then you're lucky to leave that place with anything left in your wallet.

In my three visits to the Kapalı Çarşı this trip I have come away with: gifts for my entire immediate family, a new meerschaum pipe, a  handmade turkish coffee set, a gorgeous framed Iznik tile, all of that ancient money from previous posts, and my show of devotion for one of the Istanbul football clubs.

What a perfect segue way.

We left at a certain time because we didn't want to miss the start of the game.

On Saturday, two of the three soccer teams located in Istanbul played each other.  

 Normally, there are giant crowds of rowdies collected at spots in their neighborhoods. 

Normally, the city slows to a halt in the neighborhood where the game is being played.

Normally, this is a big deal.

But, this was no normal game.

Oh, no. You see, the two teams that were playing are also the number 1 and number 2 teams in the Süper Lig standings.

This was a HUGE deal. 

Which meant that despite starting our search an hour and a half before game time, we couldn't find a single bar on the European side of the city that had seats for all nine people with us. 

We walked around until just before game time.

Then, crunch time came and the four of us who truly wanted to watch the match decided to camp outside one of our favorite spots and watch the game through the windows.

It was awesome. 

We ended up standing on the street cheering with about 30 other diehards from both clubs - going to the corner store for a can of beer, or getting a bag of popcorn from the street vendor who came by with his cart.

I've never had this much fun watching a soccer game. Add to it that the game was spectacular, with three of the prettiest goals I've ever seen, and you've got a perfect night.

Cофия, България

So, it took me two years, but I finally ended up back at an Eastern European speakeasy. Thank God.

That was about two years too long. 

"So, if you have it in you for one more, I know of a fantastic spot."

That's how it started.

Then we walked another two blocks talking about Sofian architecture and the similarities and differences between Bulgarian and Turkish cultural quirks. 

I would have kept going, but suddenly Eric said, "Turn here."

I looked up and to the left to see... a pitch black dark alley with a small light in the back. It looked like a garbage alley with an outhouse.

"Really?"

"Yeah, just go down."

I started down the alley, stepping in (I hope) snowmelt puddles, feeling my way by tripping on the uneven concrete tiles.

Made it to the light, turned right up the slight ramp, and pushed open a completely unmarked barn door. I was greeted by the sounds of thirteen different languages, the subtle sounds of mute trumpets and jazz pianos, and the dim lights of candles.

This incredible bar(n) is incredible. It is only lit by candles, no lights, there is no menu, you just have to know what you want, and you have to know someone who knows where it is. Honestly, it's the best bar I've ever been to.

Check out their article on the place here

I tried to take a photo, but the lighting was so dim, I couldn't get anything remotely visible. However, here is a photo taken by spottedbylocals.com

Here's the takeaway from their article:

"They say that in the past this was the place for the intelligentsia and you could only get in if you know the right person. The door was locked and no matter how hard you knock, unless you know the right words, they wouldn’t let you in. During the transition from Communism this place was open to the public but even nowadays the owner refuses to create an Internet site or promote it further."

I'm already excited to go back either tonight or tomorrow.

This city is amazing. I had no idea what to expect from Bulgaria, but wow. 

Just WOW.

This is a place to return to, no questions asked.