Letter from Turkey: city of change

Today it's mild and grey, yesterday was hot and sunny, and two days before it was wet and freezing cold.

It's not only the weather that changes daily in the navel of the universe. The city is changing – daily. The tightly packed population of 14 million range from the designer-clad mega-rich who cruise around in shiny limousines, to the general workforce who swarm on to the ferries or throng into the crowded buses.

On my daily journey to work, I cross the Bosporus by ferry, perched on a polished wooden bench amid a mosaic of passengers. I observe the mix of headscarfed "conservatives" in their long, dark coats conversing gaily with their bare headed counterparts in jeans, suits and, often, very high heels.

A burka-clad woman, with only pink-rimmed sunglasses and pink shoes peeking out from the black, is complaining about something to her denim-jeaned neighbour. Outside, jetblack cormorants line the breakwaters and snow-white seagulls circle in clouds.

Disembarking, I go with the flow on to a crammed, smelly bus. The three-laned roads are chock-a-block with every mode of transport. Tatty minibuses, where unshaven drivers terrifyingly juggle change and talk on their mobiles while driving one-handed, weave perilously between buses. A ride in an official yellow taxi is no less perilous. The drivers, mostly semi-literate, often ask passersby for directions.

Modern trams glide through the mayhem. The kings of the road are the metro-buses that skelter freely to and fro across the Bosporus Bridge, travelling on their bespoke highways, oblivious and contemptuous of the traffic-choked roads on either side.

The view from the smeary windows of such public transport reflects the changing face of Istanbul – magnificent domed mosques and palaces sit uncomfortably close to space-age skyscapers, with shanty villages and decaying wooden houses standing in isolated islands bordered by motorways.

Ataturk is everywhere. He gazes benevolently down in offices, restaurants and cafes. His handsome face betrays the draconian methods he used to transform this Middle Eastern jewel into a European city. But in its haste for modernisation, has Istanbul lost its way? Like the taxi drivers, is it is racing onwards unsure of its final destination?

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