Look how many tulips! A first reaction, a laud clap of hands and an image that always stayed with me. I still see the joy on the faces of tourists. I still smile every time I remember the city. Now that only a month separates us from spring, the tulips of Istanbul are coming back into my thoughts, bringing the need to lose myself again in their multitude of colors.
So I close my eyes and pick a moment: bowing my head, taking comfort in the folds of my scarf I step bare foot upon the threshold of the Blue Mosque. Before entering, everyone obediently takes off their shoes receiving a plastic bag to put them in. In my nostrils I still have the dizzying smell of sweaty feet that rises from the floor. To ignore it I focus on the inside, where a huge chandelier casts a dim light and playful shadows onto the mosaic walls. Quietly slipping among those who take pictures (somewhat an useless gesture as the dim light does not reveal too much), I sit on the carpet. Surrounded by silence I look greedy to the details of the interior, trying to penetrate the semidarkness modeled by the few light bulbs that are on. Here there are no flickering candles or icons to pray at. You are alone with your thoughts and your God.
Outside in the courtyard the sun blinds me for a few seconds. Than I feel again the warmth of spring and the smell of the thousands tulips.
It’s hard to leave behind this magic world though I have no other choice. The path ahead leads to yet another fantastic universe – the Hagia Sofia church. Visited by millions of tourists every year, it is an example of the endurance of Christianity in the face of all difficulties. And although now it has an austere interior the walls still maintain fragments of frescoes and lush decorations of the past. It is cold inside. Most visitors start photographing, astonished at the vastness of the rooms. Few of them are aware that beneath their feet lays an aquatic universe, with chambers and tunnels from long ago. Some are praying, murmuring words barely whispered. In this vast church one needs to take its time and go through rooms without hurry, careful not to lose himself within the history of the walls. I feel small, trying strenuously to 
imprint this silent universe of Hagia Sophia within my mind .
Then I am drawn outside toward the soft light of sunset. It is noon and the old center of Istanbul is full of a motley crowd. In Sultanahmet people came from all over the world to sit in queues of tens of meters just so that they can visit the Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia, Basilica Cisterna and the sultans Topkapi Palace. So I make my way slowly through tourists, vendors and waiters who invite me to taste the local dishes. Istanbul is preparing for the evening prayer.
Stop a moment, I do not want to miss the sunset
I stop on the grass at the edge of the tulips rows. The sunset dresses and transforms the city. It’s time for photos and pure joy. I sit on the ground listening to the noises of the street. There and then, the city entered my soul.
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