Another hot and sweaty day (my last) here in lovely Istanbul. I still haven't mastered the air conditioning - too cold if I leave it on over night and the alternative option is to gently stew in my sleep and wake up a little moist - actually, quite a lot moist this morning. And how badly did my running vest and shorts reek of sweat before I even set off this morning? Pepe Le Pew! So started my final run in Istanbul; my last canter down through the historic Sultanahmet, my last jog through the beautifully serene Gülhane Park and my last lap of honour around the Roman Hippodrome. A run over the bridge to the Sports Village and back in good old Cardiff doesn't really compare!
After my run I had a badly needed shower, breakfast and then I finished packing. I had an hour to kill and so went for a walk through the Grand Bazaar. I then returned to the hotel, checked out and made my way by tram and then metro to Ataturk Airport in under 45 easy minutes. There's only one thing that irritates me more than having to queue and that's queue jumpers. The queue for the British Airways bag drop desk was long and a family of 3 jumped to the start of the queue to join another family they knew - like they were exempt or that their behaviour was permissible because they knew someone at the front. Of course, everyone was far too politely British to do anything other than mumble their disapproval.
So what were the highs and lows of this holiday? There were so many highs; just being out in the streets and parks soaking up the sights, sounds and smells was a high I got every day of being there. Another high would have to be the people; so helpful and friendly and they all want to talk to you and find out where you're from and whether you like their city, which they all seem to have such enormous pride for. They are so tolerant of us westerners and our inappropriate behaviour and dress when visiting their holy sites. I saw way too much flesh on show with some people when I visited some of the mosques.
I can honestly say there was only one low and that was falling foul of a scam pulled by some lowlife when I left the hamam after my massage and scrub in a state of bliss. As I drifted up the street in my relaxed and happy state, a shoeshine guy walking in front of me dropped one of his brushes. I picked it up and chased after him. He insisted on giving me a free shine as a thank you (not a euphemism). There was no refusing; he held on to my ankle tightly as he worked away, repeatedly thanking me. Then he started to tell me about his son who was ill back in Ankara. I began to get uneasy but couldn't really leave as he still had a vice like grip of my ankle. When he finished he looked up at me and smiled. He said that he'd welcome any coins I could spare. I thought, why not and offered him 4 or 5 Turkish Lira (£2.00 or so). He grabbed my wallet and managed to snatch a 20TL note. I grabbed my wallet back before he snatched any more and threatened to call for help unless he returned my money. He threw 5TL back at me, saying that the amount he'd taken was the going rate. Rather than cause a scene or, worse, get myself in trouble by losing my temper and lashing out, I walked away. It left a bad taste, however, it would be unfair to allow this one sour note to spoil my memories or, worse still, to use it to judge this place and it's people.
In addition to the highs stated above, my favourite activity was going for a run every morning. You could argue that I can run in Cardiff or anywhere for that matter, so why would that be so special when in Istanbul? However, I've always felt that there is something special about running in a strange city that grounds you and helps ease you into that city's soul. It helps give a feeling of belonging. A close favorite after running was my visit to the
Cağaloğlu Hamam for the feeling of relaxation I was left with and in third favorite position was riding the ferries across the Bosphorus for the sense of peace I felt when afloat. My favourite place to eat was a Turkish restaurant in Sultanahmet called
Mosaik, the only place I ate at more than once. My favourite bar was the rooftop bar at my hotel,
Pierre Loti, with it's fantastic views over the city and the silver tongued barman there, Eyyüp.
Another hot and sweaty day (my last) here in lovely Istanbul. I still haven't mastered the air conditioning - too cold if I leave it on over night and the alternative option is to gently stew in my sleep and wake up a little moist - actually, quite a lot moist this morning. And how badly did my running vest and shorts reek of sweat before I even set off this morning? Pepe Le Pew! So started my final run in Istanbul; my last canter down through the historic Sultanahmet, my last jog through the beautifully serene Gülhane Park and my last lap of honour around the Roman Hippodrome. A run over the bridge to the Sports Village and back in good old Cardiff doesn't really compare!
After my run I had a badly needed shower, breakfast and then I finished packing. I had an hour to kill and so went for a walk through the Grand Bazaar. I then returned to the hotel, checked out and made my way by tram and then metro to Ataturk Airport in under 45 easy minutes. There's only one thing that irritates me more than having to queue and that's queue jumpers. The queue for the British Airways bag drop desk was long and a family of 3 jumped to the start of the queue to join another family they knew - like they were exempt or that their behaviour was permissible because they knew someone at the front. Of course, everyone was far too politely British to do anything other than mumble their disapproval.
So what were the highs and lows of this holiday? There were so many highs; just being out in the streets and parks soaking up the sights, sounds and smells was a high I got every day of being there. Another high would have to be the people; so helpful and friendly and they all want to talk to you and find out where you're from and whether you like their city, which they all seem to have such enormous pride for. They are so tolerant of us westerners and our inappropriate behaviour and dress when visiting their holy sites. I saw way too much flesh on show with some people when I visited some of the mosques.
I can honestly say there was only one low and that was falling foul of a scam pulled by some lowlife when I left the hamam after my massage and scrub in a state of bliss. As I drifted up the street in my relaxed and happy state, a shoeshine guy walking in front of me dropped one of his brushes. I picked it up and chased after him. He insisted on giving me a free shine as a thank you (not a euphemism). There was no refusing; he held on to my ankle tightly as he worked away, repeatedly thanking me. Then he started to tell me about his son who was ill back in Ankara. I began to get uneasy but couldn't really leave as he still had a vice like grip of my ankle. When he finished he looked up at me and smiled. He said that he'd welcome any coins I could spare. I thought, why not and offered him 4 or 5 Turkish Lira (£2.00 or so). He grabbed my wallet and managed to snatch a 20TL note. I grabbed my wallet back before he snatched any more and threatened to call for help unless he returned my money. He threw 5TL back at me, saying that the amount he'd taken was the going rate. Rather than cause a scene or, worse, get myself in trouble by losing my temper and lashing out, I walked away. It left a bad taste, however, it would be unfair to allow this one sour note to spoil my memories or, worse still, to use it to judge this place and it's people.
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