We are inching ever closer to the Galata flat. I am still very double minded about it, but continue to mistrust my own feelings, as my head is very clear that it is the right decision. But I do have a vision of a life in a beautiful place and buying this one feels like this vision may never actually come to be. This is partly because I find it so hard to imagine life more than a decade in the future. I just can’t envisage myself then. Unsurprising, perhaps: my mother died when she was 55, her father when he was 60, so the thought of passing 50 feels ambitious.
Well, the Galata place will be lovely and even if we find ourselves mired in renovation or other forms of hell, it is cheap enough that we could simply walk away without undue effect on our futures. Whereas the beautiful Cihangir flat (which is still staggering on as a zombie-like possibility) would not leave us any buffer; we would be tied to it and should the roof fall in, that would be that.