Istanbul
Arriving fairly fresh, a little late around 10.30... (clocks forward a further hour)... and our three friends all managed to get a couchette despite not having booked, we had booked ... but, it seems that this has to be done at Gorna and nowhere else and/but the French friends were refused tickets at Gorna! Very odd, we thought.
We all bought a travel card from a yellow machine with the aid of a smiling helpful rail-staff member.
These can be recharged.
Alighted the transit train for the journey into the city ... about 45 minutes.
Catching a bus then a taxi we found our lodgings in an old part of the Golden Horn. Bags left, we wander the throng of the main street
and eat a tasty kebab before returning down the steep hill to home ... a very attractive nicely designed one room apartment where we rest and blog and read until the evening draws in and supper calls.
Bed.
The following day becomes a non-event for both of us, as I have been up, on and off, all night and Karen later the same day suffers some sickness as well. It was going to happen sometime and could have been worse ... having a comfortable apartment under these circumstances makes quite a difference.
Waking feeling more secure on Wednesday ... lazy start.
We take it easy and have coffee nearby ... very good coffee. The walk over the bridge
to the European side with the main mosques (Blue and Hagia) ... we've been here before so are not in a hurry to revisit although they are both extraordinary ... but no ... for some reason we go looking for guitars in the Grand Bazaar because I bought one there some 15? years ago ... nice guitar ... good price. So my fingers are feeling itchy after a month on the road/rail but the little corner of the GB seems not to have the same variety and quality that was there, hereuntofore.
Fingers remain itchy ... I'm not all that certain that I want to add to my baggage. Its quite hard enough heaving our luggage on and off the train, as many of them have several steps up or down depending on level of the platform or lack of it.
We amble the huge Bazaar chatting to the touts who are happy when you stop and talk with them even without any intent of buying.
They must be so bored and wished they had paid more attention in lessons. Also quite bemused by the amount of confectionary shops and stalls ... how much pure sugar can a nation eat?
Multiple ATMs in a row!
We negotiate our way back home for a nap and a slight bite before returning to the hubbub of the street later at eightish for some alcohol and a little more food for our tender stomachs. Finding a hidden delight up six floors in a tiny lift ... where we discover live folk music and some simple nosh.
Struggling to put videos on here regrettably.
Home ... feeling better.
Bed
Out to go to the Asian side but first to the post ... well DHL ... gave that one up ... £60 to send a small parcel back to the UK. ... but the nice man told us to go to the PTT (post office) £6 ... seems fair.
We take a ferry ... lots of those here,
used quotidienly by the inhabitants and we use our travel card ... heading for the Camlica Tower ... lots of statistics but quite tall ...was hoping it would be cheap to get up it but the price was tall too. Anyway the height is absolutely dizzying, (along with the price) ...did I say that before? ...ascending in the glass fronted lift in about 45 secs, my ears are popping, exiting the lift I, certainly, feel a sense of vertigo but soldier on to take some pics.
You can see the polution here ... mostly traffic fumes, I expect, as the air-conditioning units are probably unnecessary at present. Unlike In Kolkata the drivers do not turn off their motors when standing ... ie. a little police car, parked permanently up the road from us, is just as guilty! Police everywhere ... many with big artillery.
A propos of rien ... I liked this poster from yesterday ... evidently quite old ... but it says it like it is for me! You don't have to be a jihadist to agree.
Some distance by bus, back to the ferry ... this time we cross to Emininou where the two astonishingly huge mosques are found. A walk up through the Topkapi park ...
more refreshing than the road, we pass Ataturk, my man, on our left
and head on up to the Aya Sofia ... covered (on one side) in scaffolding ... for some it must be similar to visiting London when Big Ben was obliterated by tarpaulins during restoration. T'other side's not so bad though.
Back home very quickly on the T1 tram, on which I was nearly pick-pocketed last time, on my way to buy a guitar from the Grand Bazaar ... nice guitar, good price.
Packing for the next leg ...Flight at 18.20 ... means leaving Istanbul at twoish.
We visit a museum recommended by our friend Lynn ...a turkophile ... and sometimes resident ... well ... she said go to the Pera Museum (perilously close to our lodgings) ... great recommendation. Hockney, Lucien Freud, other contemporary artists, fab Turkish paintings/drawings and a riveting display of weights, ancient and modern and if this is getting too heavy for you they also have a cafe.
And the nice women at the reception let us in for nought ... which was nice because we have had a nightmarish day with the hotel we were going to stay cancelling at pretty much the last minute ... anyway we found this place from where I am writing this now in 25° and steamy so all's well that etc.
A seven hour flight got us here at 7am local time felt like 3am but we have managed well, on little or no sleep ... four hours ahead of Istanbul.
Regrettably, we bought our next onward flight; as we believed we would have to, but no such stipulation was enforced at the border/passport check
so we are constrained by time here 16 days. Just have to come back to do the northern border another time ... it is tricky though as it is such a distance to come but trying to be realistic 'one can't do everything dahling'.
This featured blog entry was written by xopher from the blog To New Zealand and back.
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