Crowley's list, #74: See if that one café in Istanbul is still there
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So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can't go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
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"That song doesn't make a lick of sense", commented Aziraphale.
"What?", said Crowley distractedly.
He had been watching the ongoing squabble of a young couple at the counter and was trying to decide which one of the two deserved to have coffee spilled on them by the passing waitress more.
"I said", replied the angel and pointed vaguely into the air, "This song. The one that's playing right now."
"What about it?", asked Crowley, tearing his attention away from the unfolding drama with difficulty. He smirked when he heard glass shattering and loud swearing from both of them.
"The lyrics don't make sense", repeated Aziraphale. He gave Crowley a disapproving look.
Crowley cocked his head and tried to understand the words over the bustling and chattering around them.
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So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can't go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works?
That's nobody's business but the Turks!
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"Makes sense to me", he said.
"Well,I don't get it", said Aziraphale. "Why shouldn't one be able to back to Constantinople? We've been here before and we're here right now!"
"No, we're not. I mean, yeah, we are, but it's not Constantinople anymore", explained Crowley patiently, "it's called Istanbul now."
"So? It's still the same city."
"Well… yes and no. It's like… You know the old saying about how you can't cross the same river twice?"
"No", said Aziraphale, wondering where on Earth this was going. "How does it go?"
Crowley looked at him blankly for a second and then said, slowly: "It says: 'You can't cross the same river twice' " and, after Aziraphale gave him a blank look back, elaborated with: "It's a metaphor. The river isn't the same river you crossed before, because it has changed. Because the water is constantly flowing and everything."
"Well, that's just ridiculous! It's still the same river. Same river, different water", said Aziraphale.
"Exactly. Different. It's different than before", Crowley replied.
"Yes, but that holds true for literally everything. This café for example. The quality of the revani here has certainly diminished. Or…" The angel looked around for a suitable example. "There", he said, and pointed at the floor. "That piece of lint over there. I'm sure it wasn't here yesterday, but you wouldn't claim the floor is not the same floor anymore because of this, would you?"
Aziraphale lifted his tea cup to drink, looking at Crowley over the rim with smugly raised eyebrows.
"I suppose not", said Crowley, admittedly stumped, and took an uncertain sip of his own black coffee.
"I mean", continued Aziraphale, "a river isn't just the water, is it, it's the river bed too and the stones and the plants and fish and everything. It doesn't, oh I don't know, suddenly change course or something."
"They do, actually", Crowley pointed out with a slightly superior air. He had watched documentaries about this. "Over time. And sometimes humans change the riverbeds on purpose", he said, gesticulating with his fork and very nearly causing a cake missile, "The Thames today hardly looks like it did in the Beginning."
Aziraphale put a finger to his lips and thought about this.
"You have a point there. But they don't usually change their names, do they?", he argued, "The Thames is still the Thames and the Danube is still called the Danube, even though it has changed quite a bit over the centuries."
"True", conceded Crowley, before he downed the rest of his coffee (it refilled itself at once). Properly caffeinated again, he then promptly had a flash of inspiration.
"And churches!", he burst out and banged his hand on the table, startling Aziraphale, who had just helped himself to some of Crowley's dessert. "It's the same with churches!"
The angel stopped chewing momentarily in order to give Crowley a puzzled look.
"They burn down or get destroyed in a war and people build them right up again until no stone is left of the original building", explained Crowley, "Yet no one ever says 'Well, this is Notre Dame 3.0, no, it's just 'Notre Dame' as if it hasn't changed one bit."
Aziraphale swallowed down a mouthful ofcake.
"Exactly!", he agreed, even though he didn't quite understand why the demon had felt the need to be precise down to the decimal point with the numbering.
"The original material is long gone, but the concept is still there. The idea of the church still exists. Or the river", Crowley added.
The angel nodded.
"Makes sense", he said.
"I think that's actually what they were getting at though", mused Crowley. "In the song."
"Well, they phrased it rather badly then", said Aziraphale indignantly and helped himself to the last piece of Crowley's revani.