Meat and two veg...

As I swam up and down the pool tonight, I thought about what to have for dinner. This is a bit like patting my head and rubbing my abdomen; if I get too wrapped in thought I end up not counting my lengths and then I don't know where I am. Whatever I was to decide upon having to eat would have to be bought at the supermarket on my way home. What was my stomach telling me it wanted: chicken, pork, lamb...?

It was at this point that I realised that I hadn't eaten meat for about three weeks. Not since I returned from Istanbul, really; the last meat dish being a Turkish lamb dish at a restaurant in Sultanahmet. No, I haven't turned vegetarian - I just haven't eaten meat. It's not a conscious decision at all, it just seems to have happened.

I've never been, what my Gran would have called, "a big meat eater". As a child I was more than content with the vegetables and if I did eat meat it tended to be a few slices of chicken. I became a full time vegetarian in 1983. But then, as a student in the early 1980s, it was quite fashionable to be a vegetarian (compulsory, some would argue). This lasted for the best part of the next 5 years until one drunken night I wolfed down a pork pie - always my Achilles heel.

As I thrashed my way up and down the pool, I thought about this and pondered whether I was getting all the nutrients my body needed. I wondered if I was getting enough protein, given the exercise I was doing. What was the point in swimming up and down this pool if I wasn't taking in enough protein to build any muscle? I resolved to buy some meat at the supermarket before I was laid low by some condition related to malnutrition.

I have just finished the biggest, freshest, tastiest salad I've had in a long time. I ate it with some warm crusty bread and it was delicious. But I thought you'd resolved to buy some meat to feed your malnourished body? Mmmmm! When I saw the packets of etiolated flesh laid out in the supermarket, I somehow went off the idea.

Raindrops on roses (Istanbul 8)...

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.

How queer (Istanbul 7)...

I woke at 6:30am this morning bathed in sweat. By the time I got changed into my running kit I was dripping and I hadn't yet left my hotel room. A particularly hot and humid day here in Istanbul. And so, a rather moist Welshman panted his way through the Topkapi's one time rose garden, Gülhane Park. Running back up through Sultanahmet and around the Roman Hippodrome, I could hear the stray dogs howling; maybe they'd picked up on my sweaty scent or maybe it's the gay way I run?

After breakfast I made my way to the Grand Bazaar, now open again after the three day holiday for Eid. A maze of 66 crowded alleyways through a myriad of over 4,000 shops and stalls make up this, the largest covered bazaar in the world. I have to say that many of the shops and stalls sell nothing but cheap bric-à-brac that holds no interest for me. However, sprinkled here and there were things that did catch my attention; I was particularly taken by some Roman and Byzantine coins but not enough of an expert to be sure that the 130TL (£47) demanded for one rather good looking silver Roman specimen was going to secure me the real thing and fake coins are relatively easy to manufacture.

After leaving the Grand Bazaar, I made my way to a portion of the Aqueduct of Valens in Saraçhane Park. Built in the 4th Century AD by Emperor Valens, it was part of a network that delivered water from the Belgrade Forest to Istanbul's many cisterns. A little distance away I stopped for a çay and a cool down at a little café, where I tried to explain where Wales is to a friendly but bemused Bulgarian waiter. Logging into the café's WiFi, after he typed in the key, I was able to tell him that in Turkish I'm from a place called Galler. Much head nodding and smiling all round.

I returned to the hotel at lunchtime so that I could use their free WiFi connection to check in for tomorrow's flight back to London. I then got a tram to Karaköy and from there a ferry to Haydarpasa, the rail terminal designed for trains to Bagdad. From here I strolled the kilometre or so around to Kadiköy for the ferry back to Karaköy. Some of you might have noticed that I visited Kadiköy earlier in the week and, to be honest, the only reason I went again was for the ferry ride; the respite from the heat by being so close to the water is wonderful and there's something quite calming about floating on the sea.

I next got a tram to Kabatas and the the funicular railway to Taksim Square. Before going home tomorrow I wanted to visit one of the two gay bars advertised as open during the day. Most don't seem to open until 11pm at the earliest and don't get going until after midnight - too late for me. However, Chianti Bar and Sugar Café are open in the day but, could I find them? No! I could see a sign for Chianti Bar in its 2nd floor window but could not find the door and stairs to get to it. I did venture up one set of stairs and asked the trucker lookalike in the bar I'd stumbled into if this was the Chianti Bar but, as the words fell from my mouth, I knew the answer was going to be in the negative. As for the Sugar Café, well, either my guide book had got the address totally wrong or they'd closed.

So, that'll teach me; trying to bond with my Turkish brothers and sisters!

For the fanatic only (Istanbul 6)...

Another early morning run today through the almost deserted streets and parks of this lovely city. I read in my Rough Guide to Istanbul that, "The vast majority of Istanbullu have little interest in running for it's own sake". It describes running in the city as "a pastime for the fanatic only". Judging by the bemused looks I get, I'd agree; it's not something that has fully embedded itself in the culture here, as it has in the UK. However, that doesn't explain the electronic clatter of a dozen cameras belonging to a party of Japanese tourists that were aimed in my direction near the Blue Mosque - if only I'd known, I'd've worn my best shorts.

After breakfast I made my way, by a rather full tram, to Kabatas and then a short walk in searing heat to the Dolmabahçe Palace. This palace, built in the mid 19th Century, replaced the Topkapi Palace in becoming the Sultan's main residence in Istanbul. It is a magnificent example of Western architecture of the period (baroque, rococo & neo-classical) with a waterside frontage of over 500m. After donning a pair of silly looking pink overshoes to protect the carpets and parquet flooring, we were taken on a gruelling 2 hour guided tour.

The guide started by proudly stating that anything we saw on the tour coloured yellow is gilt. We saw a lot of yellow. In addition, we saw a lot of crystal too. On closer inspection it all looked a little tired and tarnished. Despite all this, you cannot fail to be impressed with the palace and especially by the Ceremonial Room, with it's four ton crystal chandelier. If I'd known, I'd've brought a can of Pledge; it must be a bugger to dust - especially in this heat.

A short hop by tram to Tophane and Istanbul Modern. The tram journey itself was a short hop but, getting off the tram, my guide book took me in the opposite direction to where I needed to go. I eventually called into a rather ornate police station for help with directions. By now it must have been 30C plus and I was poaching in my own sweat as I crawled past the numerous nargile cafés that seem to have flourished in this area. Set in a stylishly revamped warehouse on the water's edge, Istanbul Modern houses the city's modern art collection. I especially liked the exhibition on the entrance level telling the story of Turkish modern art since the late 19th Century.

Make sure you visit the terraced café on the same level before you leave:  uber chic! Whilst there today, a huge Cunard liner manoeuvred itself up the Bosphorus to dock at a nearby quay, obliterating the café's wonderful waterside view of Sultanahmet, the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus completely. No doubt, a fleet of coaches awaited to ferry its passengers on a whistle stop tour of the city, returning them to the ship for dinner tonight and onwards to their next port.

I left Istanbul Modern for the Kariye Museum by mid afternoon, getting a tram to Aksaray, then walking the kilometre or so to the metro station. Two stops on the metro and I got out at Ulubatli, where I noticed an LED display showing the temperature at 37C. From here it's another kilometre's stroll along the Theodosian Walls before you reach the Kariye Museum. The walls were built by Emperor Theodosius II in 413AD as the city's main land defence. They seemed to focus the heat as I staggered along their length. They're in a sad state after over 1,500 years of wear and tear (and a sadder state again after the earthquake of 1999).

The Kariye Museum is hidden a little distance (and one hair-raising, life-in-your-own-hands road crossing and some windy back streets to confuse you) from the walls and not that well sign posted. However, I eventually found it. Originally constructed in the 12th Century on the site of a much older church as the Church of St Saviour in Chora. The mosaics and frescoes are beautiful; stunning actually. However, it was well worth the entrance fee today just to get out of the sun.

A glass of çay at a nearby café afterwards helped fortify me before my mammoth trek back. Incidentally, for all of you that have always wanted to try a little frotteurism (look it up), you might want to start by having a play on the trams in this city. I've used public transport in a number of cities and nothing gets as intimate as an Istanbul tram at rush hour.

For the fanatic only, eh?

Sheep shagging (Istanbul 5)...

Again, up at the crack of sparrows for a run. I'm not quite sure what it is that wakes me at 7:00am (especially when on holiday) but I'm kind of glad that I do get up so early. Istanbul is quite peaceful at this time; a few people on their way to work, virtually no traffic apart from the trams and a horde of litter pickers cleaning up after last night's Eid festivities.

Then, after breakfast, came the 3hr Topkapi Palace and Museum marathon of being bullied by Japanese and American matriarchs. It's a gruelling experience in 30C, however, I have to say that despite everything, it is well worth it, especially if you like decorative ceramics and marble - and luckily I do. Some of the tiles are so intricate in design, you can only wonder, aghast at the craftsmanship involved.

There are courtyards within courtyards at Topkapi and more pavilions than you could shake a scimitar at. I saw most of the rooms and pavilions but declined to queue for the Treasure Room; the queue was that long I would have passed out from sunstroke long before I'd've reached my goal. Instead, I decided to press on. Get to the end of the Topkapi complex and you're rewarded with some fabulous views of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn - Kodak moments galore!

By tram to Kabatas and then funicular railway to Taksim Square, I was soon mingling with the 25 million population of Istanbul who had turned out this afternoon en masse to perambulate down Istiklal Caddesi. Seeking shade from the unrelenting sun and a bit of respite from the gangs of pubescent Turkish youth, I dived off down one of the side streets; lined as they are with cafés, restaurants, bars, fishmongers and all manner of other trades.

I stopped at a bar and had a cup of tea (I have some will power) and got chatting to the waiter. One thing that was instantly noticeable about him was his looks: that soft, dark Turkish coffee colouring that is so typical. And his eyes: slate blue. Dear God, I now know what the Devil gets up to on his days off. He told me that friends of his who live in the UK tell him that it is very wet there. No surprises then...!

Further down this street there were a number of restaurants; crisp white tableclothed settings outside. As is the way with many of these establishments, the Maître D (if that is not too grand a term) stands outside trying to attract your attention. Some are quite subtle, others quite blunt and irritating and occasionally you run into the silver-tongued, witty variety.

"Where are you from?" he asked, blocking my way. Here we go, I thought. "I'm from the UK" I said, adding hopefully "Wales...?" and expecting that puzzled look of someone who's just been whispered the name of an obscure tribe in The Congo. "Ahhhh, Wales... Cardiff?" came the reply. I grinned and nodded. "Iechyd da!" he said (Welsh for Good health!). I started laughing. He grabbed my hand, shook it and continued, "Shwd wyt ti?" (Welsh for How are you?). We were both laughing by now. He told me his name was Alexander and that he once had a girlfriend from Swansea. I explained that I wasn't looking for food just yet but perhaps later in the evening. "OK. Promise?" he said. "Promise" I returned. I walked away, still laughing when he shouted after me, "Sheep shagger!" He, I and the other waiters within earshot all burst out laughing.

Because of that, I may just return...

Bloody tourists (Istanbul 4)...

I was out of the hotel and running by 7:15am this morning. Between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia I passed a couple of hundred demonstrators sat on the ground: lots of flags and chanting. There was a sizeable police presence and, bored silly, they watched me through their riot shields as I jogged past. I think the demo was something to coincide with the end of Ramadan, which takes place today. Possibly it's connected to yesterday's demo by Kurdish women in Istanbul - or quite possibly it's connected to both.

Following breakfast I got a tram to the other side of the Galata Bridge. From here I scaled the hill to the Galata Tower. I would have got the Tünel funicular tram but I couldn't find it. The Galata Tower is just a medieval stone tower, really. However, sitting on its hill and at 61m high, it offers some wonderful views of the Golden Horn, the Bosphorus, Eminönü, Sultanahmet and the Sea of Marmara beyond. If you squeeze past the other tourists on the narrow ledge at the top, you might be lucky enough to get a few snaps to bore people with back home.

Next I walked up the pedestrianised drag, Istiklal Caddesi, to Taksim Square. After a quick coffee I made my way (via the funicular tram) to Kabatas and then joined an hour and a half cruise of the Bosphorus up to the Fatih Bridge and back. There are some glorious sites to be seen on the Bosphorus, for sure. The shores on both sides are bejeweled with some seriously expensive waterside properties. There's not one I couldn't imagine a Bond villain living in.

A tram up to Sultanahmet, and then I joined the queue for the Hagia Sophia. The Hagia Sophia dwarfs both the Blue Mosque and the Süleymaniye Mosque. For over 1000 years it was the largest man made enclosed space anywhere in the world. With it's marbled walls and floors, its different levels and balconies, its two supporting half domes, all crowned by its magnificent central dome, it is a jaw droppingly impressive experience.

The one detraction, as with all popular tourist sites, are the hundreds of other tourists there all thinking exactly the same thing as me. Hordes of people from every possible country stumbling about in bog-eyed, slack-jawed wonder.

Marble domes and delicious torture (Istanbul 3)...

This morning's run was hard going. I woke at 7:00am and was out of the hotel and running through Sultanahmet by 7:30am. Once again, Gülhane Park was virtually deserted, although there were a few more people than yesterday when I ran through today. It was still pretty deserted by most people's standards and, consequently, such a peaceful part of the run.

After running the length of the park and back, rather than retrace my steps and carry on up the slope to the front of the Hagia Sofia, when exiting the park I turned left up the much steeper incline toward the entrance of Topkapi Palace. What a climb; by the time I rounded the corner at Topkapi I was rasping for breath. Because of the high humidity in Istanbul, you start to sweat just standing still. By now it was dripping off my nose and my eyes were stinging because of it. I was bathed in it by the time I arrived back at the hotel via the Roman Hippodrome at 8:00am.

After breakfast, it was looking a little overcast and so it seemed the perfect day to pull on my jeans rather than shorts and visit the Blue Mosque. With its stained glass windows and tiling, it's pretty big stuff. The thing that most amazes me about this place, however, is the volume it encloses. The dome is cavernous and it's square footage must be the size of two football pitches.  Even more staggering is that it's all carpeted - me, I'd have gone for laminate flooring.

Given that it was still a little overcast, I thought I'd nip over to the Süleymaniye Mosque (still wearing my jeans). I decided to take a shortcut down the side of the Grand Bazaar. What should have been a 10 minute stroll turned into a 45 minute hike when I got lost in this retail labyrinth. Eventually I found the mosque and again, I was totally bowled over by it's size and stripy pink marbled beauty.

After a fleeting return to the hotel to change into my shorts and to apply some factor 15, I visited the Roman Basilica Cistern. There are two things that struck me about this place: that such a huge structure is lurking just a couple of metres  beneath our feet and also the size of the fish that live in the waters there (huge - Robert Benchley could write a best seller about it).

Tired and a little sweaty, I made my way to the Cağaloğlu Hamam and ordered the full massage and scrub (Michael Palin ordered much the same from this Hamam in his Around the World... series for the BBC). After a short while, a rather ordinary Turkish guy arrived and told me where to get changed. Once changed into the sari like wrap and wearing the wooden soled shoes provided, he directed me to a corner of the main marble walled and domed room. Here was a room where I sweated for 20 minutes, afterwhich he returned (now wearing his sari wrap) to collect me for my massage.

O.M.G. This massage was wonderful! Balanced precariously on that fine line between pain and pleasure, I was manipulated by a burly Turk on a marble slab for 30 ecstatic minutes. After this he left me sitting next to a large marble basin for 15 minutes in the main marble domed room. Some English guys sat opposite playfully splashing each other with water. After my massage all I could do was pant, my eyes rolled back in my head. Next he returned with some shampoo and his scrub mitten. For another 30 minutes I was now scraped and defoliated to the depth of a chemical peel before being left to relax, virtually flayed by this torturing Turk.

There wasn't one part of my body that wasn't bent, folded, twisted, kneaded and manipulated into some unnatural position and then flayed. Were he working in the UK, he'd have to regularly sign a register at the local police station.

Not cheap but boy was it good!

A little too highbrow (Istanbul 2)...

I woke at about 7am this morning and went for a run, across Sultanahmet and down through Gülhane Park. The park was  empty; just one man doing some yoga type stretches and I soon scared him off with my shorts. I seemed to be the only person in there apart from the security guards at the entrances.

I'd expected to find the biggest incline in the park but, in fact, it's quite level; the steepest incline is in the approach to park. There's one street that runs from the park entrance behind the Hagia Sofia to the Topkapi Palace that would present a mountain goat with a few challenges.

After an enjoyable breakfast, made even more so by the views across the city, I walked down through Sultanahmet and went on a sightseeing trip around the city. With my headphones plugged in, I suffered an hour and a half of an American tour guide drawl his way through Istanbul, whilst I took a series of blurred photos from the top deck of the speeding bus. Still, it served it's purpose in giving me a feel for the city and some ideas about what I want to see again.

After this I visited the Archeological Museum, the entrance of which lies inside Gülhane Park. Once past the armed guards and ticket office, this place scores ten out of ten for it's peace and tranquility but is rather dry and bland in it's presentation of antiquities. However, if staring at ancient sarcophagi does it for you, then this place is heaven.

A pleasant stroll to the bottom of Gülhane Park followed by a sharp left and I eventually arrived at the ferry terminal, just short of the Galata Bridge. One of the ferries from here takes you across the Bosphorus to Kadiköy on the Asian side of the Bosphorus and the nearby Haydarpaşa Station.

Kadiköy itself holds little interest, despite trying so hard to do the contrary. Haydarpaşa, however, looks majestic and glorious. Jutting out into the Bosphorus, you get the best views of this station from the ferry. Built by the Germans in 1908 as part of Germany's plans for a Berlin to Bagdad railway. The First World War ensured that history took another course.

Disembarking at the ferry terminal at the Galata Bridge, I decided to have a look at the nearby Spice Bazaar. The colours are a feast the eye and the smells a banquet for the nose. You can buy all sorts of stuff here, not just spices. I found a shop selling traditional fabrics and bought a cotton scarf for the bargain price of 5TL (about £2). No, I didn't haggle because it seemed such a fair price anyway.

To counter this highbrow culture, tonight I will try and find a gay bar and some beautiful Turkish men to entertain me.

Istanbul 1...

So, after an exhausting overnight bus journey to Heathrow and an early morning flight to Istanbul, I eventually got here about 1ish, such are the efficiencies of their public transport system that an hour later and I was checking in to my hotel.

I traced my jogging route to check that it is what I was expecting. It is but possibly a bit more busy than expected. And my God, the hills... Istanbul is supposedly built on 7 hills, like it's predecessor, Rome. It certainly feels like it. I think I just climbed every one of them.

After this physical tracing of my route for tomorrow's run, I found myself lost in a myriad of streets quite close to Sultanahmet. The area, I later found out, is Kumkapi and it's quite working class in feel with locals sitting out on their front step to sell their stuff. There's nothing like getting totally lost to help you find your way around.

After finding out where I was again, I made my way back to the hotel and managed to grab a good seat on their rooftop terrace. From here you have a wonderful panorama of the city; it's towers, domes and minarets.

First impressions of Istanbul are: it's certainly a melting pot. You have so many differe nt types living here cheek by jowl - Muslims and Christians, rich and poor, young and old, Asian and European. But whatever the differences, it feels really friendly and safe.

Yay...!

Today was my last day in work until September 12th. I now have two weeks and one day off and I'm so excited about it that I won't be able to enjoy the lie-ins that I'm now allowed! So, what am I going to do with all that time...?

I have a bit of running around to do initially; things that I've put off recently such a visit to the doctor, dentist, barber etc... I need to get my bike serviced and I have a routine appointment booked at the diabetic clinic to ensure that it is fit to ride and I'm fit to ride it. I haven't forgotten that if it all becomes a bit much, I have the very tempting option of lying down very still in a darkened room - something that I've spent many a day recently aching for. And, of course, I have a week's holiday booked in Istanbul.

Istanbul has always been on my list of places to see; it's a city with a history stretching back at least 2,500 years. Colonized by Greek settlers in 685 BC, it came under Roman control in 196 AD and Roman Capital in 330 AD. After the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD it became capital of the Byzantine Empire and, following a 53 day seige by Sultan Mehmet II in 1453, it became a capital of the Ottoman Empire. Straddling the Bosphorus, it's the only city in the world to span two continents. Stripped of it's capital status in 1923 it still holds a fascination over Turkey and the rest of the world.

This is my sightseeing list so far:

• Sultanahmet Square
• Roman Hippodrome
• Column of Constantine
• Gülhane Park
• Archaeology Museum
• Istanbul Modern Art Museum
• Topkapi Palace
• Blue Mosque
• Kariye Museum
• Hagia Sofia
• Basilica Sistern
• Cağaloğlu Turkish Baths
• Haydarpasa Railway Station
• Galata Bridge
• Galata Tower
• Dolmabahçe Palace
• Bosphorus Cruise
• Theodosian Walls
• Grand Bazaar
• Suleymaniye Mosque

I'm sure that there'll be plenty of time to sit down over a coffee or beer and watch the world go by too, as well as taking time out for my daily run. If anyone has any suggestions for other things I should see whilst I'm there, drop me a line.

What year, I don't know...?

As I run tonight, I'm assembling various lists in preparation for my week in Istanbul: the holiday list, the pre-holiday list, the sightseeing list, ad infinitum... I'm nothing without a list!

Time was, I used to juggle numerous lists in my head with no need to jot anything down; nowadays I can barely remember my own name. The lists I was running through are checklists I keep on my phone and iPad which I physically have to tick off when each item is completed. That way I stand a chance of getting through the day. A terrible thing, age...

So, I'm running through my lists in preparation for when I get home so that I can tick items off (or in the case of my sightseeing list, add items), when suddenly I remember that Check if Passport is Valid is not on the list - neither holiday list nor pre-holiday list. Oh no, how did I miss that one? Furthermore, I can't remember exactly when I last renewed my passport.

My breathing gets heavier and I've started to sweat. I keep on running, despite every fibre in my body screaming at me that I should turn around and run back home to check my passport. I can remember that it was at the end of summer or early autumn but what year, I don't know? I remember taking the passport photo myself but again, what year, I don't know?

My pace has now quickened in my haste to get home. What I'd be able to do tonight if I did find out that it was invalid is anybody's guess but there is now a sense of urgency in my stride. All I can see is my passport photo but when was it taken? The rest of the run passes in a blur of emotion centred on the growing belief that I will not be able to travel and I'll have to spend my holiday moping about Cardiff - there's a mosque in Butetown and many saunas have steamrooms and I'd certainly have no problem buying a kebab but Cardiff's no comparison.

Unlocking my front door I tear in and go directly to where I keep my passport. Flicking to the penultimate page I read, "Date of issue: 2nd October 2003. Date of expiry: 2nd October 2013".

Phew! And I think I must have completed my run in record time.

Historic Runs...

When I visited Rome a couple of years ago my early morning run took me through Parco di Traiano and around the Colosseum, in Lisbon I manage a few circuits of Parque Eduardo VII and in Madrid last year I scampered through Parque del Oeste every morning. A run through a foreign city helps ground me in that city's culture.

And now, I think I've finally worked out what my running route in Istanbul will look like. I mentioned in a an earlier post that you can never be too sure the route is going to work until you actually get there in person. Planning a run in a strange city via Google Earth is fraught with danger. I still have some uncertainty about this route; I know that parts of this run are up and down hills (how steep, I don't yet know) and I know that this route will be dependent on access to certain areas, such as Gülhane Park, first thing in the morning.

This 4km route takes me through one of the most historic areas of Istanbul; through Sultanahmet Square, past the Hagia Sofia, the length of Gülhane Park and back, around the other side of the Hagia Sofia, past the Blue Mosque, around the Roman Hippodrome and the around the back of the Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum. Click on the map for a closer view.

Plan B is a few circuits of the Roman Hippodrome!

Istanbul (not Constantinople)...

I've been trying for the last week to book a holiday because I've got some time off work coming up soon. But try as I might, by the time I go for a run or a swim, make myself something to eat, get distracted with writing this blog and blah, blah, blah... Before I know it, midnight is upon me and I'm too punch drunk stupid to complete the task.

So, tonight I have not been for a run or a swim, I bought sandwiches on the way home so that I didn't have to faff around making food and I have forced myself to jump through the virtual hoops of every online flight and hotel booking service you care to mention.

I'd originally set my sights on Barcelona: I've never been and everyone tells me that I should. But then got distracted by Berlin earlier in the week; why, I'm not altogether sure. Having thought it over and rationalised it, I fixed my sites once more on Barcelona and then tonight, by way of a brief sojourn in Budapest, I booked a week in Istanbul.

Part of the problem I have with booking hotels is that I like them to be near a park so that I can run every morning. It's sad, I know but yes, I run even when I'm on holiday. I feel I get to know the place better if I run through it. And finding somewhere suitable to do that in a city you've never been to is no easy task. Google Maps helps and Street View is a godsend but these tools are not infallible.

When I went to Lisbon a couple of years ago, I found a hotel near Parque Eduardo VII. I checked it on Google Maps and it seemed ideal. It was only when I set foot out of my hotel that first morning that I realised you need to have the constitution of a mountain goat because of all the hills that Lisbon covers. And let me tell you, Parque Eduardo VII is on an incline so steep that even Bear Grylls would have problems scaling it. In Istanbul I'm staying in a an area near to the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia and (importantly) it doesn't seem to have too much of an incline.

And so exhausted and befuddled by the myriad of flights and hotels I've searched tonight, I'm off to bed with a smile on my face and Istanbul (not Constantinople) going round and round in my head.