I felt I had been tossed out of the family home where I was the spoiled child and told to find my own way in the world. Oh, cruise ship, you are so cruel!
Sunday was a day of transition. From Athens to Istanbul by plane is an hour trip. But with getting to the airport, waiting around, and airline delays, it took us six and a half hours to get to our hotel.
Our Istanbul cabbie was a nice guy who tried really hard to find our hotel, but he kept having to call people for help. It involved a lot of hand waving and looking all around. Finally, he called someone at the hotel who could figure out where he was. And where he was was across a wide tram-only boulevard, one block away, behind a barricade. The hotel guy found us and single-handedly personhandled our luggage (and believe me, I don't pack light) across the street and up the drive into the hotel. Cheers, personhandler!
The receptionist/concierge (it's a small hotel) laughed when I said "thank you" in Turkish. He taught me the right way to say it, which involves the mnemonic of picturing John Tesh (remember him?) sitting on a hay bale, drinking lemon juice to cure a sore throat, and whipping himself. Tesh-hay-cure(but with your lips pursed)-lash. I gift you this mnemonic if you are ever in Turkey. You're welcome.
The Turkish couple we met on board the ship said we had to eat kebab and visit the Aya Sofia, Basilica Cistern, Topkapi Palace, Grand Bazaar, and the Blue Mosque. It's always good to have a checklist.
First checkmark was eating fabulous kebab at a restaurant last night. The server cooked one of our dishes in a clay pot cooked on a plate of burning sands at the table. Then he cracked open the pot in the best showman's fashion to reveal the food inside. I like magic acts you can eat.
The muezzin called the faithful (and us) at daybreak today.
We hired a guide, "Tim," shortened from Timoshe (phonetical spelling) for a couple of hours to take us through the Grand Bazaar. As we were walking there, Tim was stopped by two shady characters. He reached inside his coat and I immediately thought it was a shakedown. (Yes, I have read too many crime novels.) It turns out they were undercover police protecting the poor tourists (in this case Tom and me) from bogus guides. Official, accredited guides have a badge. Tim apologized to them and clipped his badge on. It's good what the police do, he said. And he may have meant it.
We discussed how the Grand Bazaar is like the International Marketplace in Hawaii -- for tourists. It took a scant twenty minutes -- or less -- in the bazaar for me to want to leave. Fortunately, Tim grokked right away that it wasn't our cup of tea. Instead, he showed us monuments and ancient artifacts, gave us some history lessons, pointed out good places to eat (including one hole-in-the-wall), and took us to see rug making and exquisite examples of ceramics. It was nice to have a smart guide.
On our own we visited the Topkapi Palace, another checklist item. Life as a cook was tough back then. Sometimes there were 15,000 mouths to feed when the janissaries came to visit. I can barely figure out what to feed Tom and myself.
We saw a bunch of dogs lying lazily around on the sidewalks and under an archway. Fierce palace guard dogs, no doubt.
Checked Topkapi off our list and headed for the Basilica Cistern. If you think we were really gung-ho tourists, all of these places are just a few meters away from each other and from our hotel. This was our 'hood!
All the cistern needed was a) more water and b) the soundtrack from "Phantom of the Opera." The cistern is no longer used to hold water and actually the city purposely drains it periodically, but enough water is kept for the tourists. There are even fish swimming around in the dark waters. If you saw the movie or musical, the phantom ferries his beloved in the Paris cisterns. The object of his affection did not feel the , and it was probably because cisterns are dark, damp, and vaguely redolent of rat essence. Unless it is the Basilica Cistern. Dramatically placed lighting, solid walkways, and a little café at the end of the walk ensure that this cistern is a romantic, rodent-free experience.
Check.
Our tourist work is done for the day. More kebabs tonight if we're lucky.
