Hands down the best two blocks in Kadikoy—a pedestrian lane with two dozen artist kiosks, an army of stray cats, a big shaded tea garden, the constant tink tink tink of teaspoon hitting tea glass, a culture center for singing and playing music and watching documentaries, an unabashed socialism, a dance studio where Laz and non-Laz learn the horon, a summer concert series with Firat Tanis as the headliner, junkmen with pushcarts shouting "ess-kih-JEE!" all day, old men with tanks on their back selling "bo-ZAA!" on winter nights, cafes that do most of their business on long summer Sundays, the crabby guy at the corner tekel, the dershane bell that chimes even when no one's in the building, the new used book store that'll probably close in a year, the overpriced baked potatoes with weird choice of toppings (corn, beets, pickles), and not one but three different shops selling orthopedic gear and adult diapers. I'll miss it all.
I'm in Oakland, California