I'm in Istanbul and I want to wrıte an entry but this keyboard is so damn difficult and Turkish. I slept when I got to Heathrow on a long couch. I discovered that Boots sells anti-depressants or some sort of mood-altering herbal. I mailed a bunch of postcards (and this tıme, remembered to write different things for each). On the flight, I mostly slept, but my seat buddy was an American college girl on her way to an organic farm in the south of Turkey and she was a lot more nervous than I was. Maybe I had gotten all of my anxiety out the night before. We ended up taking the Metro together and I tried to be as Canadıanly helpful as possible.

As for Istanbul itself, I may be too tired for it right now. It is a mash of ethnicities and languages that I don't quite recognize. I went to the Hagia Sophia (around the corner from my hostel) and dissolved into a puddle of tears the moment I entered. It is grand, ornate, imposing, stunning - even now, I can't find the adjectives. I can only say that remembering that building causes a lump to form in my throat immediately. I'm going to get dinner and wait for my friend.