I would like to take this opportunity to apologise for the formatting errors that Blogspot has introduced to this blog. I swear, I am not destitute enough (yet) that I cannot afford extra lines to break up what I am typing and you are reading.
This morning saw me waking up a bit dehydrated and a bit slow (which will most likely be a recurring theme throughout my travels). I woke up early at about 7, attempted to snooze for a bit more, quaffed a litre of water, and opted to get up at 7.45 when I couldn’t get back to sleep.
I headed out past the empty front counter, wandered down to the local store and picked up a couple of bottles of water for Sparkles and Shakira, as I was sure that they would be craving some cold water when they woke up.
I was out the front of the hostel having a cigarette with Shaun, another guest at the hostel when my alarm went off to get us out of bed… As I was already up, I finished off my smoke and back in the room… reset my alarm for 1 minute later while I stood there waiting for it to go off and wake up the girls. Once it had, the girls looked at me with bleary eyed confusion, wondering why my alarm had gone off and I was standing there phone in hand.
I had a shower and popped up to the terrace for an early breakfast, making sure that I was going to eat before the three of us met up with the 3 Emirates hosties we had befriended the day before. Nello and I had swapped contact details for a great phone app called ‘Whatsapp’ – a free texting service, so at 9am (which was when Nello told me she would let me know how they were placed and if we were still going to meet at 10am) she informed me that they had only just gotten out of bed, and that the previous night’s vodka had put them behind schedule.
Once Sparkles and Shakira emerged and also broke their fast, we headed out to the tram stop to meet up with the Emirates lasses.
I was approached by the short rotund fellow from the day before, who greeted me affably with a sly smile on his face. I said hello again, that I remembered where his brother’s store was (and that his cousin still lived in Bondi) and that we had to go meet up with some people. He gave me a very wounded look, but I didn’t really care. I knew what he was up to, and I wasn’t going to have a bar of it. Call me cold, but I had had enough Turks approach me trying to sell me shit that I didn’t need.
The tram system of Istanbul works quite well and is one that Melbourne would do well to look at introducing rather than the shitstorm system we currently have. You can buy a token for 2 lira to use as a one-off trip, or get a cash-card pass that allows you to touch on and touch off like Myki… should. If it worked. I still can’t get over the fact that we have a ticketing system that cost $1.4 billion that doesn’t properly work, yet Indian scientists can design and launch a probe to the moon and find water for a third of that cost. Sigh.
I digress.
Nello, Laura and Diana arrived at the tram stop only a couple of minutes after we did, which showed them to be ladies with an immaculate sense of timing. It was a short tram ride to the Bosphorus area, where we headed over to the water front through an underpass crammed with stores and people yelling and touting their wares. While we were discussing buying tickets for one of the large boat cruises, a short older fellow started telling us about his boat, how it was 10 Lira cheaper than the big boats, that it was a 3 hour rather than 6 hour trip, ra ra ra. I’m fairly positive that half (if not more) of the stuff he was telling us about the other boat was lies (all lies!) although we did have a look at his boat and it looked passably seaworthy and not as crowded as some of the bigger boats.
I had done the Bosphorus river cruise the last time that I was in Istanbul, yet was willing to do it again as it is a very scenic cruise, and towards the end is a large fortress that still stands and repelled a number of invading forces over the years.
Laura and I had a good chat at the front of the boat while taking photos – both her and I have some slightly non-standard and spiritual views of the world, so it was a great chat.
The boat stopped for an hour along the way back on the Asian side of the Bosphorus river, where there were two dogs jumping from the shore into the river, swimming around to climb out of the river and jump in again. There was also a town here. The town had an ice-cream store that we stepped into to get a refreshing sorbet and apply some sunscreen.
Continuing our walk, there was a fruit store that had some juicy and tasty looking grapes and cherries that we bought on our way back from a stop at a paved area the local fishermen were making the most of.
We hopped back on the boat when it was time, and finished off the tour once we had gone back for a couple of passengers that didn’t get back in time for our departure. Sigh.
The Spice Market was the next stop for the day. We wandered through, looking at all of the spices and teas that they peddlers were peddling. I saw an almond treat that Lapzang had been offered on the last trip. Apparently it was a powerful aphrodisiac. The way that he was informed of this was that the peddler said “is good for you and woman.” When Lapzang asked what he meant, the peddler slapped his forearm and held it up, with a wink informing my sherpa “is gooood.”
Everybody was feeling a little bit dehydrated after our day trip, so once Sparkles had found a “Vitamin Bar” and bought an orange juice, they all decided to get something tasty and refreshing. I grabbed a cheap tactical kebab, and we opted to head back to the main square with the Blue Mosque for a few of the other tourist destinations before the Emirates hosties had to depart and move on to Antalya.
A short tram trip later, we ended up outside the Hagia Sophia, which is opposite the Blue Mosque. It is a museum that was once a Christian cathedral and then became a Mosque, and is apparently quite pretty. But it cost 25 Lira (which, in fairness, is only about $14), but it was hot and Sparkles wasn’t sparkling so brightly any more. She headed back to the hostel, and Shakira, the Emirates hosties and myself headed to the Basilica Cistern, which is an underground water reservoir built for Constantinople many many years ago.
It is an amazing piece of structural engineering that allowed the people of Constantinople to have water. Far more successful than the Wanthaggi desalination plant.
Everybody that had not seen the cistern before today was quite amazed at it, and they all enjoyed the two medusa head stones that were in place to ward off the bad juju. The rumor is that they were brought across from Greece especially for this purpose.
After wandering the Cistern for an hour, we headed up to the surface where the Emirates girls said their goodbyes as they had to head to Antalya from Istanbul. It was a shame to see them go. They were goos eggs, the trio of them.
Shakira and I headed back to our hostel where we had a few beers and dinner on the terrace. It was a quiet night by our standards, spent chatting with an American (Shaun) and a Canadian (Paul). We also had another guest at the hostel join us, Hassan, who spoke very little English.
I had seen Hassan sketching something at breakfast that morning, and asked him if I could see his drawings. He went to his room and returned after about 2 minutes with a clipboard to show off two amazing pictures – one of a child and one of a girl, which we established through gestures that he had drawn from his imagination. I complimented him on his works of art, and he gifted them too me. I was quite overwhelmed.
I hope they survive the trip back home intact. I will have to take a lot of care with them, as there is no Turkish equivalent to Officeworks for me to head in to to pick up another clipboard for safe transport.
It was another late night with too many drinks consumed, which seems to be a recurring theme while I travel.
Signing off there.
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