Istanbul, the city of cats.

On the first night that we spent walking in the small streets of the old Istanbul, Sultanahmet, we were greeted by numerous cuddly locals that would come to our feet and begged to be petted. We realized the next day, as we walked through other neighborhoods in the city, that cats were waiting for us in every corner, even inside the monuments. There was one in Haghia Sophia who started doing that bread-kneading movement on my lap as soon as I kneeled to caress it. Another one in the large patio of the Blue Mosque was the main star, getting all the attention while basking in the sun.

 At some point, when I was so out of breath because I couldn't take the overwhelming heat any longer, we decided to rest a bit inside the Sirkeci train station. There, waiting for us, and actually laying on a seat was another feline, carefully grooming himself. As soon as he was finished, and noticing that I was not moving, he slowly pressed against me, as a test, I assume, after which it came to lay on my lap and slept there for a while, purring like a train while I petted him. I didn't want to leave.

There was even a cat in one of the many Turkish ceramic and souvenir shops, comfortably laying in a hand-painted plate, and I am certain, increasing the sales of the shop, just by being cute. We passed said shop several times and he was always there, laying here or there. It struck me how much the Turkish actually love these cats. You can see little bowls of water and food left for them in the street and, something rare in stray cats, they looked unusually healthy (shiny hair, bright eyes) and were hyper sociable, as in, they seeked human contact and would follow you around.

 I can not stress enough the importance of sterilizing pets, and for anyone who is in doubt, a visit to the local animal shelter should do the trick. However these cats just seemed loved by the society as a whole. It was a sight that made me happy.