20120701
Well, again I sit on my balcony at 0600. I hit the fart sac at about 0030 this morning and still woke up at about 0400. I shut off the AC and opened the door to the balcony since the temperature was 70 degrees or less. Of course the gulls were raucously laughing like drunks at a Robin Williams show but by now I just block them out. I managed to cheese out a another hour and a half of sleep before succumbing to the avian comedy show.
I spent some time last night on the rooftop terrace chatting up some of the other guests in the hotel. It was the first time anyone hung out there in the evening other than myself. I had intended to work on my photo collection, which continues to grow, but that was a wash. Instead I learned a bit about Jason and his wife, whose name escapes me. They are both living in Bahrain and stopped here in Istanbul en route Sweden where the wife is from. Jason, who hails from near Whitefish, Montana, teaches ancient history but I am not sure what his wife does. She’s been in Bahrain ever since her Dad, who is a tennis pro, moved there.
Craig, who needs to take a chill pill…talks incessantly, and his wife Karen are from Melbourne, Australia. Craig is an HVAC tech but I am not sure what Karen does. Her family emigrated to Australia from Holland in the early 1950’s. They are on a crazy trip that took them from Australia to Holland, Ireland, here in Istanbul for eight days and then they are stopping in Dubai on their way home. On another human interest note, while having a brew at the Sultan Hostel and Restaurant, one of the waiters saw me reading the Washington Post and asked me where I was from. I said Washington, D.C. of course. He asked me if I knew where New Jersey was and when I told him I was born there he got all excited. He had lived in central and norther Jersey for 12 years.
Speaking of the Sultan Hostel and Restaurant which is on the strip hotels, bars, and restaurants near my hotel where I have been hanging out when not seeing the sights, I must address the silly traffic on that road. Yesterday, early evening, on my fourth day of hanging out there, and enduring the traffic, including tourist bus after tourist bus blowing nasty, hot diesel dike fumes on me, I realized that the level of traffic could not be normal. There is no way all those eateries almost everyone of which has outdoor, roadside tables, could have survived.
I know from having walked it that the only place that traffic could be going was the coastal highway to which the only route was through a two lane underpass that the tram passed over. It was no wonder the traffic got so backed up. I found out from the waiter who had lived in Jersey that, due to road construction, all the traffic including every stinking tour bus, from the tourist area that included Hagia Sophia, the Hippodrome, the Underground Cistern, the Blue Mosque, and Topkapi Palace has to take this route out of the area. What a buzz kill!
As mentioned in the previous paragraph, I learned a bit more about the area I am staying in. I misread the directions to Topkapi Palace, my first destination yesterday. Instead of what should have been a ten minute walk to the Palace entrance, I took an hour walk all the way around the grounds of the palace on the coastal highway path. As one should have inferred from my previous notes, I needed the exercise.
The morning was beautiful, people were jogging and biking on the path and even at before 1000 in the morning, men were fishing and, apparently, swimming in the, what I have read is not very clean, water. The landward side of the path consisted mostly of the ruins of what I assumed were the old city walls. I managed to get all the way back around to the entrance to the official palace grounds by walking through a lovely, shaded stretch of parkland bordered by the palace, a military compound, and the Museum of Islamic Technological History.
The touring agenda yesterday was Topkapi Palace and the Grand Bazaar. Both were a bit overpowering. As previously mentioned, what should have been a ten minute walk to the palace turned into an hour. By the time I got there the madding crowd had already arrived. I had to bypass the kitchen area because that was already closed. Some of the interior parts of the complex had lines so long that I just did not have the patience to wait. Accordingly, I ambled about, saw what I could, which was a lot, learned a bit about Ottomand history and took lots of pictures.
As has become my routine, I came back to the hotel to rest, read, and cool off for a while before heading back out. It was recommended that one take the tram to the Grand Bazaar but it was only about 400 meters to the tram and then another 400 meters to the bazaar from there so I hoofed it. Let me say before I forget that hoofing it around here is not unlike most places I have been in Asia. The tourists are clueless stopping everywhere and anywhere to take pictures of the sites and their travel mates. Digital cameras have done for tourism what the Nazis did to Europe. The locals, probably immune to the rudeness, barrel through the crowds like bulls in Barcelona.
Nonetheless, I made it to the bazaar intact which might have been strange. Since the bazaar is reputed to be pickpocket hell I didn’t carry my usual load of cameras, binos, accessories, etc., but just took my point and shoot and my travel guide. The travel guide, which has a suggested tour of the bazaar, was virtually useless. Once you get inside that maze of corridors in the bazaar you might as well just give up the plan. Having to stop every 30 meters to consult the map and the signs made it pretty difficult to enjoy and get a feel for the place. I had no intention of buying anything so I did not really need to get anywhere in particular.
As it was I just rambled about totally lost, took some pictures to record the feel of the place, had some lunch and somehow miraculously exited the labyrinth at exactly the point the guide said I should. 800 meters later I was back at the hotel for round two of rest and relaxation, cooling off, reading, and showering up. The best part of the bazaar was stopping for a late lunch at a restaurant recommended by the Rick Steves Istanbul travel guide, Kardeslar (Brothers) Restaurant. It was tucked up two flights of stairs in a han. There was a party of Israeli’s eating there with a Texan who obviously live here and one very Oriental looking Turk there when I arrived. The dining area sat only about about 25 people on an open terrace protected from the sun by an arbor of grape plants. Speaking Turkish would definitely have helped because I wound up eating what the waiter recommended; stewed meatballs and potatoes, a variety of mezes, and beans. The food was awesome and, since there was enough food for two people, the price at 29 TL was quite reasonable. Wish I had a doggy bag…or maybe not…
After that I had intended to have a couple of brews on the rooftop terrace and work on my photos but ended up doing some maintenance tasks such as backing up the photos and wiping the flash disk so I could have a fresh start. It was then that I met the folks from Australia and then later the folks from Bahrain came up so it turned into social, instead of anti-social hour. Much later I ended up at the Sultan for a night cap before returning to the hotel for much needed sleep.
And breakfast starts in four minutes. I have to enjoy this morning since it is my last in Istanbul. Tomorrow I will be up early again but headed of to my flight to Dalaman and road trip to Dalyan. More news from there!
