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26 September 2015

258/365

Travel days morph together. A fog settles over our sleepy brains and it is hard to know when one day ends and the next one starts. But coffee in any culture is a balm, and it's impossible to be in Turkey without humming
Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it's Istanbul not Constantinople
Been a long time gone
Old Constantinople's still has Turkish delight
On a moonlight night.

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