savoring slowly

I'm loving this book so, so much.
It's my second Pamuk novel. First I read Snow, which was just awesome. Istanbul seems so close when I'm reading his books...I can smell the coffee wafting out of dingy neighborhood bars and see the Bosphorus shining in the moonlight.
I don't ever want it to end...fortunately Pamuk's oeuvre is rather extensive, consisting of several masterpieces: Snow, The Black Book, The White Castle, Istanbul:Memories of A City , just to name a few. Then there's, as a friend put it, his B-sides for the hungry fan.
It seems nice to be the voice for an entire city, to know that what you are framing in words will mark for posterity the character of a place you love.
Not sure what I'd write about...Wildwood? Driving around? Drunk people outside of BellBottoms?