Yesterday afternoon we found ourselves in Masumiyet Muzesi, The Museum of Innocence, based on Orhan Pamuk's great novel. But 'based on' is surely the wrong term. I'm still trying to process the relationship between the novel and the actual place. They seem to be symbiotic extensions of each other in an extraordinarily beguiling manner.
Everything about the experience was thought-provokingly magical. I need to come back to this when I've had time to think - and isn't it wonderful in itself that a museum can do that to you?