Iskenderun Through a Rain-soaked Lens: Messy Travel Vibes

i stepped off the bus into iskenderun's damp afternoon, my camera bag heavy with gear and my head still spinning from the winding coastal road from antakya. the air's a cool 15°c, thick enough to feel on your skin, humidity sitting at a stubborn 70%. the sky's that flat grey that makes colors pop but also promises a drip from the ancient balconies. i just pulled up my weather app and it's 15.23 with a feels-like of 14.64, basically a damp hug from the sea. they say this is classic late autumn in the eastern med - unpredictable, moody, perfect for someone who loves shadows and the way light pools on wet stones. i love it actually - the light is soft, diffuse, ideal for portraits without harsh shadows. my partner would call it 'glomy' but i think it's cinematic.

if you're wondering where the heck i am, here's a quick view:

iskenderun (or alexandretta if you're feeling historical) is a port city that's seen a lot - from roman times to the crusades to the recent conflict. right now it's quiet, a bit worn, but the harbor still bustles with fishing boats that smell of brine and diesel. i spent an hour just watching the gulls wheel over the masts, trying to get that perfect silhouette against the grey. the harbor's a good place to start any photographic journey here; there's a rhythm to the loading and unloading, the clatter of crates, the distant horn of a ship that never seems to leave.

the old town is a maze of narrow alleys, some freshly painted, others crumbling. i kept my camera ready, shooting candid shots of old men smoking by doorways, kids chasing a soccer ball that's seen better days, women bargaining over bunches of parsley. the occasional rain-slicked cobblestone reflected neon signs in the evening, my favorite kind of composition. i'm a freelance photographer, always hunting for that raw, unposed moment. i've got my trusty old film camera, a contax t2 loaded with portra 400, and a digital mirrorless for quick snaps. i'm a sucker for grain, so i'm shooting more film than usual. i love the way the film captures the humidity - it almost adds a texture to the image.

check out the view from the pier:

i stumbled upon the local fish market around noon. the stalls were piled high with shiny sea bream, mullet, and something i didn't recognize. the vendors hollered, the air was salty and fishy (obviously), but i couldn't resist buying a couple of grilled sardines on a piece of newspaper. simple, messy, exactly what i needed. someone told me that the best fish is actually at the very end of the market where the old lady with the big hat sells her catch - she only comes on tuesdays, i heard that from a local who slurped his soup too fast to catch the details. i missed her by a day, but i'll be back. as for fish recommendations, i usually double-check the TripAdvisor seafood section before trying a new spot. it's not foolproof, but it's better than nothing.

there's a tiny bakery on sultan street that does the roundest, flakiest lahmacun. if you ask for extra garlic they'll give you the eye but then you'll get it. i overheard a traveler raving about it on a tripadvisor forum - apparently it's a hidden gem. the line's usually out the door by 11am, so go early. i'm not much of a bread person but i loved the thin, crispy base topped with spiced minced meat. it's the kind of thing you eat standing up, paper napkin in hand, while the world goes by.

here's a little snack for the eyes:

the temperature's holding steady at 15.23, not cold but not warm. i'm wearing a light jacket, which i regret when the sun peeks out and the humidity makes it feel stuffy. but then the breeze off the water kicks in, and i'm glad i didn't ditch it. this city's weather keeps you honest - you can't just wear one thing all day. i've learned to layer, and to always have a spare lens cloth for the inevitable mist that settles on everything. the pressure's at 1014 hpa, which my weather app says is normal, but i feel it in my joints. i'm not that old, but the sea level pressure thing is weirdly noticeable.

if you get bored of iskenderun's charms, antakya is just a forty-minute dolmuş ride away. i visited yesterday - the roman mosaics there are insane, and the bazaar has a different buzz. the hatay archaeology museum is a must; it's got the famous "drunken hermes" statue that'll make you laugh. or you could head south to arsuz for a quieter beach vibe - pebble beaches, crystal water, and fewer tourists. i heard that the syrian coast is within sight on a clear day, though you can't cross the border. if you have a car, the drive along the coastal road is breathtaking, especially at sunset.

now for a street view:

i've got a few links that saved my skin: the Iskenderun Life forum (mostly turkish but google translate gets you by) has real-time updates on closures and events. i also rely on Yelp for food, though i've found reviews here to be hit or miss. the Hatay Tourism Board puts a pdf of walking routes that's surprisingly useful - i printed it and it fell apart in the rain, but i saved the digital copy. and of course the classic TripAdvisor Iskenderun page for the big attractions.

i met a guy at a tea house who claimed his family has been roasting coffee beans the same way for five generations. he let me sample a cup - strong, earthy, with a hint of cardamom. i bought a small bag; it'll fuel my editing sessions for weeks. if you're a coffee snob like me, you'll appreciate the traditional cezve method they use. the place is called "kurtulus kahvesi", found near the onion market (no, i'm not kidding). ask for muhammet, the owner; he'll tell you stories about the city that you'll never find in a guidebook.

as a photographer, i'm always chasing the light. here, the golden hour is brief but magical - the sun sets behind the mountains, casting a warm glow on the water that lasts maybe twenty minutes. i set up on the seawall last evening, tripod planted in the pebbles, and captured the harbor silhouettes turning gold. the shot was worth all the sand in my bag. i processed it in black and white, because the city feels timeless that way. if you shoot film, bring plenty; there's a small shop near the ferry terminal that sells basic supplies, but they run out of 400 iso during tourist season. better to stock up in antakya.

anyway, i'm off to catch the dawn ferry to cyprus (that's a lie, i'm just dreaming). but if you find yourself in this corner of turkey, slow down, get lost, let your camera get wet. iskenderun's got a quiet resilience that'll sneak into your frames. don't forget to try the lahmacun, and maybe - just maybe - you'll get to meet the old lady with the hat on tuesday. keep your eyes peeled, your gear dry, and your heart open. this city might not scream 'instagrammable' at first, but it's got a story in every alley, waiting for someone patient enough to listen through the shutter sound.