Ah, that city - Again!

Repetition, sometimes, can suggest a whole lot of a good idea. Déjà vu, while at many times annoying and eerie, could stroke familiarity to a certain extent. Doing something twice, when applied to some traits could illustrate something negative, though re-doing a particular chore might produce something better.

No, I'm not talking about any assignment over here - it's just the expression of being at a place so lovely for the second mind lulls me to calmness up to bits. The mists of the Bosphorus swiftly tamed the busyness of the ships docking at the city's eternally busy harbour whilst the Asar call to prayer breaks the noise of the hectic bazaars. The chilly winter stops none of its proud people to go out. The city is as good as it is during the summer months.

It took me the whole flight to actually believe that I am going to be here again - the place where the heaven and earth meet, where powers saw and conquered, where East literally meets West - in Istanbul.

Dramatic as it sounds, Istanbul offers its visitors numerous good reasons of why to return or to a radical point, stay. Of course I'm not getting anywhere close to that point, though AB's parents are showing signs that they may do so in the near future. Auntie Pie and Uncle Rosli are of course more than hospitable, and their well-acquainted knowledge with the city's zig-zags do help me a lot in both trips. AB, of course, has mastered the city he has visited every year without fail since 1996, though I might want to rely on his brother (whom I've got to know long before I knew AB), Izzat, if I want to get good photos of myself.

I enjoy their good company, it simply adds the colour. The guys will fart around, quite literally while Auntie Pie is busy plundering for bargains at the shops. Wealthy, yet humble, AB's parents treat me well. They like to make things easier by including me as one of their sons, adding to the original four, when asked by the friendly locals. Each time that happens, I just can't find any reason to argue. However AB and I, sometimes Izzat, would break from the main joint to do more of the city exploring. After all for me it's only my second visit. On the other hand, for them, well what the hell, it is becoming uncountable!

I got myself a copy of Turkish Rolling Stone and Istanbul's TimeOut at the much upscale shopping area of Levent, before AB and I split up with his family at Taksim to head where I really want to head in the first place, the Ortaköy Camii.

Yeah that doesn't suggest much about the building. So here's the stitch.

Basically its perfectly beautiful, and it served as the imperial mosque of Sultan Abdülmecid. We took the bus to what could be a superbly charming place, passing by the detailed five million Ottoman gold pounds Dolmabahçe Palace - the seat of the Sultans after Topkapı - before disembarking at Ortaköy.

Alleyways lead you curiously to a public square full of people, reminding me of the similar case of Fontana de Trevi and the Pantheon back in Rome. The mosque stood at its shoreline position, reflected by the waters of the dividing strait while the mammoth Bosphorus Bridge - one of the two bridges that connects the European side of Istanbul with the Asian - looms dramatically in contrast beyond it. Flocks of pigeon flew and conquer the square alongside arranged cafes and eateries thronged with people around it. I passed through the many stalls selling various items, jeweleries and accessories being the most distinctive to the mosque's gate.

And so it was an architectural orgasm. I assume it was an experimental attempt by the architects - Armenian father and son Garabet Amira Balyan and Nigoğayos Balyan - who designed it in a Neo-Baroque style, departing exclusively from the Classical Ottoman designs though retaining the very basic prototypes. Whatever they was thinking, they definitely scored. Inside and outside the mosque is evolutionarily lovely.

It was the location that perfects the mosque's small yet cunning physique. Around the mosque ships and boats docked, locals fishing and hanging out, smells of good food and the ocean breeze spruced up the air. The desirable chaos outside contrasts with the mosque's interior silence, with occasional hums of zikr and at times, the boatmen shouting disrupted the stagnant air of piety. Beyond the fine grilled windows the minarets of the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia adorned the shining sea waters, the radiance dotted by ships large and small with seagulls flying at the sky. The much open windows of the mosque gave illuminated the interior naturally, highlighting the colourful dome and the glitzy crystal chandeliers.

Ortaköy was fast becoming the top one on my A-list must-visit site in Istanbul. It's kind of off the beaten track, it is as indie as it is not mainstream, and it is captivating. We left the place to the much more crowded Istiklal Caddesi, strolled down the packed shopping avenue with kebabs in our hands before having Starbucks at the end of the street thereafter.

It was getting dark as we strolled down the sharp slopes of Galata down to the shores of the Golden Horn. Faint lights of the city illuminated the buildings and the people, giving much of the psychological heat to the already dropping temperature of a winter night. Cars swerved, ships sailed, and our tram arrived, taking us swiftly to Beyazıt where I finally had my all-time favourite firin sütlaç, the Turkish rice pudding that puts your taste buds down to their knees - if they have knees, that is, before getting back to the hotel.

The city has been a visual feast even for two days of my stay here. It is worth it to come twice in what could be Napoleon Bonaparte's 'capital of the world'. The Romans liked it, the Ottoman perfected it and today the Turks cherish it. It is very European, yet has some Asia in heart. It is where people would really appreciate their diverse cultures and unique differences, prejudices and discrimination aside. Fundamentally religious or upright secular, Istanbullus are friendly and pleasant in every sense.

So far, so good. Twice of being impressive. Let's see what we have tomorrow.

I have yet to find toilets in any Malaysian Starbucks outlet. It is sinful however to have such American product when you're here in this part of the world. When in Turkey, specifically Istanbul, always go for Turkish çay or kahve. For the more extreme, try ayran. My visit is until December 6.