Well the Easter Bunny did not bring the sunshine, but the temperature was not as cool as our first days here. It made for a fairly pleasant Easter morning as we retraced our routes from yesterday’s trial run to get Ron to church on time. Hmmm….the English mass was at 10:00, but he elected to go to the 11:00 Italian mass so we did not have to ‘rush’ as much. Translation = get up too early.
We gave ourselves 1 ½ hours to make the journey, thinking it being Sunday, the public transport would be less often and that was true. Yet, we arrived at the church gate by 11:00 regardless of Sunday schedules. Ron had his book and I mine, but our reading rooms were to be entirely different. He went to church and I went to the Shrine of Holy Caffeine, Starbucks directly across the street.
Warm enough to sit outside, I set my eyes on the table I wanted and left my book there to reserve it. When I went in to order, it was shrouded in darkness, yet caffeine worshippers were at the Holy Grail partaking in liquid communion. They had a power outage and were only serving brewed coffee not espresso drinks. Let there be light and electric to get the espresso maker steaming hot once again. Estimates for the next witnessing experience were in five minutes. I could wait that long and went out to read my book in the meantime. When I noticed the interior had indeed been illuminated, I joined the line of faithful to confess I wanted a Vente latte, a far cry from my usual. Just after the person in front of me raised her pleas and before any action could be taken to fulfill them, the lights went out again, but only for a moment.
With prayers answered and a physical manifestation of it in hand, I went to my seat to read until my appointed time to meet Ron by the Pope John XXIII statue in the church courtyard. Those will little faith, turned Judas on Starbucks the moment the lights flickered raising doubts on whether or not they would be able to produce the rewards they promised and ran to Gloria Jeans.
When Ron was finished with his Catholic duty, we walked the Taksim again since we had nothing better to do. Interestingly, a number of places were closed, presumably because it was Sunday, not because of a Christian holiday. Either way, I was curious since in the Asian countries where there are more Muslims than Christians, Sunday is just another work day for the stores.
Walking down the street, we spotted a sign for the Galata Tower. Worth checking out
since we had not seen it before, we headed down the hill where we found a man squeezing oranges and pomegranates for fresh juice. Never having had pomegranate juice before, a taste test was in order. I had expected it to be bitter. All of my early experiences with the novelty of eating pomegranate seeds lead me to believe that after the sweetness, there is a bitter aftertaste. The juice, however, was sweet with an ever so slight bitter undertone, a ruby rich color, and a perfect bouquet.
The tower was finally before us and yes it looked like a tower sitting surrounded by a small park and lot of shops trying to sell souvenirs or food. There was no explanation of what the tower was, why it was built, or who decided they needed a tower here in this hilly inland area and not by the sea. For 10 T Lira, you could ride the elevator to the top, for what reason that was not clear either other than the obvious view of the water. For five Euros, I will imagine the water from on high that I have seen many times from ground level. Inside by the cashier, there was still little to entice us to part with our money to be taken for a ride.
Having walked down the hill by now, we no longer needed to take the funicular and we were at a tram stop closer to our hotel. To reach the tram stop, we had to go underground to cross the street, similarly to Budapest. Also similarly to Budapest are the number of stores and shops underground making this a productive place to pass through. However, very unlike Budapest, this underground had gun stores. Open area gun stores with dozens and dozens of models of hand guns attached to the back wall with more models in a glass case as the only separation between the back of the counter potential customers. Boxes of bullets were off to the side also for sale. Scary! What was more skin tingling, mind blowing, horrifying was that as we walked through the underground, I counted seven of these gun stores. I cannot imagine how many more there may have been in areas where we did not walk. Two gun stores were only separated by a toy store between them, competition and irony in one small area.
We went back to our hotel to make shuttle reservation for getting back to the airport. Their sign shows a shuttle service with fixed times at a cost of 16 Euros for both of us. We have seen the same signs at other hotels and hostels for 4 Euros or 6 Euros per person; perhaps it is the location. The desk clerk offered us their own shuttle service for 35 T Lira for both of us with the incentive we could leave when we wanted since it was only us.
As we walked along, I remembered an old television commercial I remember from childhood. The screen showed prunes and the voice said “Are three enough; are six too many?” The ad was for a children’s laxative, so the bottom line was to use the product and take the guesswork out of the mix. That slogan “Are three enough; are six too many?” had made its way into Pop culture for a number of years after this ad long faded from the tube. However, this is what I wonder about travel sometimes regarding days in one place: Are three enough; are six too many? At one point, I chastised myself for not realizing I was going to cancel my Tuesday class and we could have come here on Tuesday and not wait until Wednesday. Now I am so glad I didn’t. We really have reached our limit of entertainment and distractions. As we were discussing, most of the museums are Islamic related and difficult to reach. The public transport is not that great; no, truthfully, it is really poor for such a large city. You really need to rely on buses to get off of the beaten paths or trust taxis, but we have had our experiences with taxi drivers who claim it is a higher rate to cross to the ‘other side’ meaning either the European or Asian side depending on which you start out with. They will also drive all around saying “I am not as familiar with this side of the city as (fill in the blank).
For dinner, we returned to the restaurant we went to the night before last. The host remembered us and where we sat. It was enjoyable, though Ron’s stomach was bothering him, we cleaned our plates. After a walk around, we went to the dessert place we like the best, the independent bakery and had tea and a dessert there.
The rest of the evening was spent watching Schindler’s List; we have to get up at 5:00 am for the 6:15 shuttle. With the fifteen minute commercial breaks, I gave up on the movie by 11:00 pm and waited to hear the last chanting from the mosque for this trip to lull me off to sleep.
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Praise the coming of the Easter bunny, today was the first day without rain in the morning. It was actually warmer today to the point of almost not needing to layer up. It is unbelievable that the tulips, hyacinths, and crocus are up and making the gardens beautiful beds of color. We sat in the park across the street to people watch, enjoy the sunshine, and take in the hard work they put into the landscaping.
Since tomorrow is Easter, Ron had to find a Catholic church and the hours of services. We headed to Taksim, the part of the city on the Asian side. It was a multi-transport trip. All transport lines use the same tokens, each costing 1.30 T Lira. First, we had to take the tram to the end of the line, which is by the sea. The funicular entrance is not too far from there, but this is a funicular of a different breed. It is more like a small subway car, going underground up the major hill, leaving the crowd at the top of the Taksim district, the only stop. There were some great tile pictures in the stations. Some were whimsical fish, others were of mosques.
Strangely, there are three Starbucks and two Gloria Jeans down one long street interwoven with clothing stores, candy stores, bakeries like the one above iwth desserts dripping in honey, and restaurants. This is
commercial central with international stores, not the usual Turkish ones. We walked the entire length where at the end; we found the place where we had seen the Whirling Dervishes eight years ago. There are not performing until the end of April due to the building being remodeled. This group performed for donations and out of spiritual desire to share their message. The other group charges 40 T Lira for their performance. Also along this street is a tiny cable car that runs up and down with only one stop, the end of the line in each direction. We have never ridden it since we enjoy walking the street to check out all of the stores, that and the fact that it fills immediately.
We wandered across the street to the park where there used to be tea stands the entire length of the park, but now there are only a couple and lots of construction going on. It was here that we spent New Year’s Eve in 2000. It was nice to reminisce. There was a shop that only sold halva and it was the best I had ever had. We brought back six pounds with us. We searched up and down the street, but it does not exist any longer. The candy stores only have the packaged kind, which is definitely not as good. I had my taste buds all ready for some too.
We returned to the hotel by 5:00. Ron rested and I was able to get online, but the WiFi connection is slow, so photos will have to wait until we return. I was able to download e-mail into Mail Washer, our spam filtering program, but Outlook refused to actually download them. It shows them downloading, but nothing appears. This computer has given me issues since it was new.
Walking up our street for more than a mile, we came across Roman ruins built by the last Emperor of the Roman Empire. It always impresses me the scope of power that they had. Actually, we were looking for dining options, but did not find anything in that direction. We finally decided to return to the area by the backpacker’s hostels where we ate the night before last, but were talked into the restaurant next door. I do not like kebab, but never seem to remember it from trip to trip where that is part of the cuisine. Tonight, I tried pistachio chicken kebab, but it was dry, the lettuce had no dressing, and the mashed potatoes were cold.
Ron was getting the chills; strangely, it is the warmest night since we have been here. With the café in our hotel closed, we stopped at Coffee Me, which I found is the correct name tonight. It turns out what I thought was ‘N is a coffee bean logo.
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I thought the call to prayers in the Muslim religion only happened six times a day, but there was music and chanting coming from the mosque through the night and early morning. I cannot say it was disturbing; it did wake me, but it was rather soothing, and I fell back to sleep again. Sleeping in is a rarity for me, even when I can, I can’t. This morning, I slept until 9:00 am, a miracle. It was cloudy out, but the sun was trying to peak through.
Breakfast was a nice buffet of cheeses, bread, cucumber, tomato, and olives. Enjoying the view, we ate leisurely and planned the day by not making plans. We did decide to find the area we stayed at the last time we were here. As we were heading in that direction, we stopped in the Sultan’s tomb. One sultan built it for his father, and then many others were moved there. Another form of the old boy’s club. None of their wives or harems were mentioned nor if they were buried together or as a group. Actually, I went back to our last bed and breakfast like a homing pigeon impressing Ron who thought it was in the opposite direction once I found the street.
From here we walked to Topkapi Palace. After entering the courtyard, which is free, the entrance was mobbed with the remnants of dozens of tour buses. Many obviously did not have the admission included in their tour as they were lined up at the concession stand waiting to purchase them, then following their respective guide. It was too overwhelming for us, so we plan to come back on off hours to miss the tour herds. This is the one place Ron went to the last time that I passed up. Now I don’t want to miss it again.
The funniest thing as we were walking down the hill to the side of the palace, the
sounds of cats fighting filled the air. As we continued down the hill, there was a small crowd gathered staring at something. When we were closer, there were two cats staring at each other hissing up a storm. Neither had their back arched, nor were they particularly in any anger posture, but the bickering continued. Our watching and others approaching had no effect on their recriminations toward each other. They actually would quickly glance at the crowd every few minutes to see if we were still enjoying their show, before continuing on. They stayed with Act 1 for almost fifteen minutes until some spoiler tossed them some treats which immediately signaled break time.
There is no shortage of mosques here, so we duck into each one respectively as we pass. The exception was the Blue Mosque. It was closed to tourists when we passed due to pray time. I am not sure what the allure is for us to visit them, they are all large rooms with little decoration on the walls. The differences are the windows, the carpeting, and the designs on the ceiling. All of the women’s areas are closed off with lattice sheeting. If nothing else, it is something to do. What we don’t understand is why people are washing their feet outside before entering, in this cold. Yes, I know you have to do that before praying, but you would think there is inside place for inclement weather.
There are the same types of carpet guys who just want to show you something to get you into the store. We have told a number of lies and truths, but they are not deterred. There are not as many as last time, so that is less annoying. I have come to tell them that the last time we were here, we saw carpets and carpet stores, this time we came to see the sights. Some get it while others don’t.
We went to the Sultanhamet Mosque, not impressive inside. The property is huge, but the mosque is not. The signage talks about the beautiful stained glass, we could not see any. It spoke of this and that, but this and that was not in view either. It was rather disappointing.
We spent sufficient time in the bazaar getting lost, getting found by every desperate merchant, and then purposefully getting lost again. We only stayed longer because it was pouring rain by this time and we did not bring our umbrellas. Our bad! Or my bad x 2. Which is correct? When we left tired of being prey, it was still pouring, but we walked back toward the hotel, but stopped at Coffee’n Me. We passed Starbucks by, we stopped there yesterday. Istanbul has Starbucks, Bucharest has Hard Rock Café, what the hell is wrong with Budapest, who has neither.
A nap was in order after so many hours in the cold and wet. Besides by now it was after 5:00 pm. What is a vacation if you cannot indulge your whims? Just after falling asleep, the music started from the mosque. With so many of them, I don’t think there are many places insulated from the call to prayers. After the initial shock, it is appealing.
With umbrellas in hand, we went searching for a dinner place. We thought the old neighborhood may have some interesting places. There are a number of hostels in that area. Every restaurant had someone out in the cold and wet to tell us that was the best dining establishment in the city. I wonder how many of these guys get pneumonia. Some we thanked for the information, some we ignored, and others we pretended we did not speak English. When we hit a dead end, we turned around and tried to remember our immediate past. This is the one we ignored, this one we did not speak English, and so on. We made our decision based on the most crowded. The fella sitting outside, swearing he was not related to the owner or a paid public announcement, told us he eats there 2-3 times a week because it is so affordable. We risked it, but it was non-smoking, one demerit. The food was good; the service attentive, the price was ½ what we paid the night before. The guy was correct and was not lying.
My socks are soaked. Crocs with the holes around the edges are great walking shoes, but not great for the rain. On the way back to the hotel, this guy tricked us into his carpet store. He was a block away and we were nice, not thinking he was out on the prowl. As we walked, Ron said “Tell him I am not well.” The way I got out of there was by saying my socks were soaked due to my shoes and had to go get them off. This led into a ten minute discussion about my shoes, my choice of shoes, the weather, and once again into carpets. Finally, I said I had parquet floors and do not cover their beauty with carpets. With that I was released.
Wet feet did not stop us from going to the bakery again for desserts and then to the rooftop café for tea to eat them. Perhaps we will make it to the hamam tomorrow, but earlier in the day. They are open until midnight, but by 9 pm, it just does not sound like a bright idea to go get soaked and steam, then dry off to walk ten yards to the hotel.
This title almost makes me sound like a foodie. Hungry, turkey, and I could add chilly to the list. It actually snowed in Budapest for about an hour yesterday. It was also nippy at 5:30 am when we got up to get ready to leave; the shuttle was coming for us at 6:30. Going to the airport used to be a rush of excitement, but now it is a drag. Drag you butts there only to wait for two hours before any real action happens. I think this two hour advance check-in was really prompted by the concessions’ lobby. What else do you have to do for those extra two hours, but sit in the restaurant or shop at Duty Free?
We flew Lufthansa from Budapest to Munich, an hour and ten minutes. They had a ‘meal’ service, if this joke could pass for a meal. They served a sandwich or actually a roll with either a slice of cheese or chicken. There was just enough inside to change its classification from a roll to a sandwich, but just barely. Drinks were doled out after the ‘meal’ service was over. For all the skill it took for them to serve the sandwich, you would think the drinks would have come faster, but there were only two flight attendants on the flight. That seemed strange for a full flight.
When we arrived, I had not realized how large Munich airport is. We had a long and healthy walk to our connecting flight and only thirty minutes to do it in. They had our luggage checked through, so we would have heard our names over the loudspeaker if they were thinking of leaving without us. Boarding started thirty minutes late; we cannot condemn German efficiency since it was a Turkish Air flight.
The next flight was over two hours, though I am not really sure how long; I kept falling asleep. Ron was five rows behind me. We did not realize it until we were on the plane that our seats were not together. The guy next to me was chattering with his girlfriend two rows back, so they really shuffled seating. Yes, I could have moved, but I had a window seat and she was in the center, not as conducive to sleeping.
After arriving, we jumped into line for Passport Control. Every flight entering Turkey must come at the same time. The lines were horrendously long and there were a number of agents open. We finally were standing in front of the agent with Euros in hand. He flipped through my passport and then asked if I had a Visa. I said no and was ready to hand him my cash, but the Visa desk is off to the left. We had to go get our Visa and then do this routine all over again.
We went to the baggage carousel where the Munich flight was listed. We waited forty-five minutes for our baggage, but it never showed. I went to ask an attendant if this was all of the baggage from Munich, but he asked me which flight. I said Turkish Air, but then found out the Turkish Air baggage comes out on the other side of the airport. When we found the right carousel, our luggage had still not appeared. We waited another twenty minutes before we entered the main lobby and looked for our names amongst the four dozen waiting drivers. We found ours, but he still had to wait for two other people. We lost an hour crossing time zones, lost another waiting for our suitcases, which by the way were carry on size, but were forced to check them, and then another hour waiting for the driver and the bus. The guy with the sign was only the sign holder. The shuttle was stuck in traffic. We also were stuck in traffic leaving the airport, so we did not get to the hotel until about 6 pm. Our first day in Istanbul was shot. The consolation was that we have been here before, so we had our bearings immediately
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n in Budapest, yet it is further south. It started to rain too and if it were three degrees colder, it would have been snow. It is COLD!!! We roamed a bit, went to the ATM, Turkey now has the NEW Lira, which translates to the cutting off of a number of zeros. It also means higher prices. Our hotel is 49 Euros a night with a Purple Roofs discount, but the restaurants are considerably higher than they have been in the past making them closer to western European rates. Add to the mix, the exchange rate for the Euro is not all that wonderful either, going for 1.90 Lira to the Euro.
After wandering and reminiscing, we decided on a restaurant. Each dining option has a good looking man outside trying to convince you their establishment is the best choice. We were going to decide by holding a beauty contest, but one restaurant called out to us, though the barker was no where near close to being a runner up in our pageant. As soon as we were seated, we remembered we had eaten here eight years ago. Funny how certain things stick in your mind, but what we also remembered was what a cheap meal it was then, but now that is just a memory.
Ron asked the hotel clerk if there were any places in the city which we should avoid. His unspoken meaning was that there were some riots here just a few weeks ago. The young man responded with “After midnight everywhere except this square, this is sacred ground”. I can oly hope that the corrupt and thieving atheists in the city respect that sentiment as a good will gesture. On the top floor of the hotel, there is a café where breakfast is served in the morning, but it is open until midnight. We went up there for a late night tea to go along with the pastries we bought on the street at a sweet shop. The view of the Blue Mosque lit at night is stupendous. My camera does not do night shots, not even with a tripod. The only thing I hate about it. Well indoors is not great either even at 800 ASA, but I am not about to cart a tripod along everywhere either.
Though we were being serenaded by someone at the mosque, we hit the hay by 10 pm. We were serenaded again at 11:00 and then midnight.
Of course, I will blog on Turkey. Have laptop will lug along the dusty roads and byways, we go, hoping for WiFi connections along the way. The last time we were there, there was only one Internet place, but that was eight years ago. Hopefully, it has changed. I will also have student theses to read too. They are due the 27th, but my darlings are the last minute types.
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I feel a bit of guilt when I don't get here to write something, but perhaps it is just my Italian gene pool kicking me in the butt. However, I have good reasons, I am writing for money elsewhere. Keep an eye on this site: http://www.gayot.com/travel/citytrips/budapest.html. My article should be replacing this one in another two weeks. I am also working for the same publication writing a Business Traveler's guide to Budapest. They have not had one before this, so it is from scratch. The link will be posted when it is up. I also received the files for Frommer's Eastern Europe guides, so I have that to work on also, though it is not due until July. My compulsive type A personality will need to have it completed long before and then just do last minute revisions on any sudden changes. Word was that there was a fire in the Red metro yesterday, actually, hearsay from a student. When I was walking to school, there was a herd of police cars on the street and some major heavy duty equipment. I am not sure if they had to go down from above, since it was between stops. Scary stuff and I will have to keep my eyes peeled for any news about it. Today is my last teaching day before spring break. It should have been Tuesday, but I only have six students in the class and three of them are doing teacher training, so it was convenient to just cancel it. Wednesday, we leave for Istanbul and a hotel with a hammam on the ground floor. Yahoo!!! As I go, so does the laptop, so if I am able, I will post from there.
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We watched the movie Steam - The Turkish Hammam for the second time last night. It is an Italian movie sub-titled in English. The next morning, we booked tickets to Istanbul for spring break. The last time we were there was in 2000, so we are due to return.
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