The day has arrived and it’s off to the airport in an Uber with a clueless driver who managed to take the wrong tunnel exit and turn a 25 minute trip into 45.
A slight delay, which fortuitously reduced the layover time in Saigon -!so we thought- then it was plain sailing all the way to Saigon with an Aussie female pilot giving us a smooth ride.
As has been the experience in the past with Vietnam Air the food and service was fabulous. The 8.5 hour trip ticked away pretty quickly.
Spent next 6 hours wandering around airport and lolling in the Lounge . An old friend advised that a mate of his was on the same flight and likely in the lounge. After a few efforts to find him I sat down defeated or more appropriately fearful of being accused of stalking.
A 45 minute delay saw us head off at 11.45 and without any thought of eating it was into the sleepwear and head down for 7 of the next 12 hours.
After either cracking a few ribs or tearing rib cartleges on the Sunday before it was a painkiller assisted sleep.
The remainder of the trip was a couple of funny movies and reading trip notes for the walk- boy are we in for some glorious scenery, food and alcohol.
Arrived in Paris to a cool and cloudy 11 degrees at 630am and were surprisingly through the welcoming exercise at airport in less than an hour.
Sorted out the train tickets and we were on the commuter train for the 35 minute ride to Paris. It seems Parisian trains and us have a troubled existence. We got halfway and then 10 minutes of French announcements led to an evacuation of the train and a mass exodus to another platform.
What could only be akin to a cattle draft in Aust saw a disorganised rabble, pass a woman being treated on floor of the train, then head for a narrow stairway where 600 into 4 did not quite work. Some there would have done a World Cup rugby play proud barging their way through. How nobody got trampled is amazing.
The downward journey was followed by an equally robust climb of the stairs to the other platform. We old people with beavy suitcases were not given any guest privileges.
Now on the new platform the 600 or so joined the original throng and space was at a premium. To improve the experience it started to bucket down with rain. But wait there is more – another announcement- ALL IS WELL GO BACK TO THE ORIGINAL TRAIN.
It was like hitting the replay button , only this time some lunatics added to the excitement by running across the tracks – much to the annoyance of the rail officials.
Round 2 was a little more pleasant as somebody gave us a hand up with luggage and we passed the ailing passenger sitting in a wheelchair who looked remarkably healthy.
Wet and bedraggled we got back on the train, navigated a couple of Metro changes and arrived at our hotel about 200 metres from the Arc d’Triomphe , hoping to leave our bags and return later to book in. As luck would have it the room was available and after 28 hours we were settled into our room.
We headed out for a walk and then got dolled up for our lunch with Anna and James, plus the boys. to celebrate her 40th borthday.
Lunch involved a punt ride to an island which housed an old hunting lodge now converted to restaurant in a setting to die for. That said at €100 a bottle for celebratory champagne dying may have been cheaper.
The French seem to frown upon youngsters in a restaurant, but Fred was beautifully behaved and Henry survived with some screen time and some relay walks around the gardens between courses.
Anna’s candle for her cake was more a firework imported from Canberra- there was definitely no blowing this one out. Suitably fed and watered it was a return boat trip and a 40 minute walk back to home.
A little Nanna Nap of an hour and we headed over to near the magnificently decorated Eiffel Tower to do a spot of childminding whilst Anna and James had their 3 hours of kid free birthday celebration.
The two flagging babysitters nodded their way through the 3 hours in the 31st floor hotel room with sweeping views over Paris before stumbling through the backlots to a train and home after a memorable day.
Whilst we were heading east on the train to Strasbourg the clan were headed to the south of France for a family holiday- all 5 bags and 2 kids plus stroller . We could only wish them good luck.
On a typical dreary day in London we set off from Earls Court for the City. The usual myriad of changes on the tube had us around the London Bridge and we explored the Burrough Markets which was a food lovers paradise with every conceivable fruit, cheese, meat and alcohol product in from all over the world.
It was packed and finding somewhere to sit and eat was difficult, until we found a grandstand arrangement which changed patrons every 30 minutes or so as they polished off lunch.
Looked at several museums and the usual attractions, with most full of eager tourists, despite the weather.
Wandered down past Knightsbridge and Kensington where all of the top end stores,including Harrods, sell their wares, at somewhat hefty prices.
Decided to explore the local district a bit more and walked the last 4 Kms home.
Evening was spent with a friend of Jane’s at the exclusive Hurlingham Club for a Guy Fawkes bonfire and spectacular fireworks display.
Club is pretty toffy and a member of the family virtually has to die for others to get elevated to full membership.
We had a slight hiccup with ticket numbers and had to defer to the old drive-in trick of 60-70’s of one youngster in the boot.
It was a great night with around 4,000 people in attendance.
Caught a couple of late night underground trains home and went to bed excited about tomorrow’s visit to watch Tottenham v Liverpool.
Sunday 6th
A miserable wet and rainy morning greeted us , but local streets were pretty busy early with the local derby between Arsenal and Chelsea due to kickoff around 12.
We rang to book for a Sunday Roast at a local pub and were told it would be extremely busy, but managed a seat.
Dressed for the occasion, but found my pants had shrunk or I had put on more beef than expected- that was until Jane asked if I had see her pants in the wardrobe. That said two weeks of not trekking and eating everything and anything has certainly meant any loss had been recovered with interest.
Maybe everyone went to the game or stayed at home because of the rain as there was only 6 people in the pub. Amazingly they did not have tv on and the patrons didn’t seem too worried about the result. Because of the expected crowd we were stuck at n a corner nook.
Food was just ok , but going to the big match with catering suppled it didn’t worry us.
Headed to the game about 230 in steady rain and the underground was packed with supporters. The 30 minute walk from station to stadium was a sea of white and blue, with the red of Liverpool popping up only occasionally.
Tottenham town has an interesting demographic with a swag of restaurants and food stores from most African countries. The other African centric stores were grooming centres – could only presume they did shaves or braiding.
The new stadium was magnificent and our level 3 seats gave a great view of the game. The majority of Liverpool fans were stationed just below us and be they small in numbers they were huge in voice, often drowning out the locals.
The skills of the Premier League players players was incredible. The ground was like a bowling green and hardly a mark showed, even when players clattered into each other.
The pre match practice was pretty intense and flowed over into the game. A well worked goal
and a gift from Tottenham’s defence gave the Red’s a deserved half time lead.
We deferred to the food area and offering was pretty ordinary – a small meat pie and a few potatoes, plus the smallest bottle of beer imaginable.
Back on the pitch Tottenham could have scored three goals in first five minutes, but erratic shooting and two hitting the post kept Liverpool in front.
Harry Kane reduced the margin to one, but despite a concerted blitz on goal Liverpool held on.
It was a fabulous experience to see two such prestigious clubs play a great brand of football in an amazing stadium. It was definitely a Bucket List tick off.
Hung around whilst crowd disappeared and ‘feasted’ on the dessert – a bag of popcorn.
Got the obligatory photo and then joined the throng heading to the station, with roads absolutely packed with security guards. From my observation there was no altercations, just lots of disgruntled Spurs supporters picking next weeks team based on their player assessment.
Trains were again packed on the way home and the day ended as it started wet and windy.
Laid back in bed reading the match programme and reflecting on just how skilled the players were and what a great day it was.
Monday 7th
Another wet and windy day greeted us and with lunch plans cancelled and visit to the filming of Call The Midwife called off over security concerns and secret squirrel stuff about the next few episodes, we decided on a day at Kempton Park Jumps racing.
Travel plans were slightly disrupted by a rail strike and the ineptitude of the ticket seller, but we managed to find a train and enjoy a 40 minute trip to the course.
A lovely park side course with the track disappearing behind a forest, it had grass and all weather tracks which were in great condition. The ran both hurdle and steeplechase events.
A crowd of about 700 devout punters with an average age of 60. Had plenty of punting opportunities with a band of about 10 SP bookies in the outside betting ring and inside was the Tote and several corporate betting companies.
We got in for the Senior’s price of £13 each and managed a table in public area which we shared with 2 ladies who were keen punters with a Bucket List to visit every track in UK.
The number of races was nearly matched by the number of pints we all consumed, but after 7 races , with pretty small fields it was nice to finish in front.
In between drinks we had the traditional fish and chips with mushy peas.
Jumps racing here is very popular and the jockeys definitely look after horses welfare, often pulling them up if they had no chance.
At 430 it was all over and we headed for the station- a simple platform with no staff or amenities and a ticket machine and display board advising the next few trains were cancelled. Waiting 45 minutes in cold damp conditions after our beer consumption meant a few trips to the bushes.
Back on the train and back to n town in time to grab a quick bite to eat and head to the theatre precinct. We saw Came From Away which is the play/ musical based on the little town in Newfoundland – Gander- where all the planes were diverted during the 911 incident. It was a really entertaining show put on by a talented bunch of actors.
After an exhausting day it was back home to have our last sleep overseas.
Tuesday 8th
Up early on another cold and windy day with more rain predicted.
Checked out and headed to town for our last day of sightseeing. Ended up at Big Ben, then over to the Look neon Eye for first ride of the day. Most of ride was in howling wind and rain, but you still got a birds eye view of the City.
Down through the Xmas Markets and along waterfront near Whitehall and New Scotland Yard and Westminster Cathedral. Then it was up past Green Park and Pall Mall with a distant view of the palace. It’s a pit like a human game of Monopoly. Popped our head into the Ritz Hotel and Fortnum and Mason the culinary suppliers to the late Queen.
Then we headed to Chelsea for lunch with Jane’s friend and her godson who is in Call The Midwife.
After a nice catch up it was back to the hotel to collect bags and head for tube to the airport.
Got halfway and train was stopped due a fire at the next station and then they announced it was terminating. We swapped trains about 3 times before finally getting back onto the right one and getting to the airport with about 2.5 hours to spare.
Through the customs and security with the usual holdups and then a little shopping before a visit to the Lounge.
Wednesday 9th and Thursday 10th
Plane left about an hour late and I had a repeat of my Turkish Bath oil treatment when the poor hostie dropped a bottle of salad dressing down my back when serving an adjacent customer.
Pretty ironic when the other hostess serving me asked if I wanted dressing on my salad. The little voice over my shoulder said “ he may have had enough’ and explained the position. She apologised every time she went past.
Afte 4 movies and 6 hours sleep we arrived in Singapore with me showing signs that the duck I had for lunch might be playing havoc with the tummy, so had to be careful what I ate on the leg to Sydney. it turned out to be dry bread and black tea, so no savoring the delights of Business Class.
No sleep, just a few movies on the way back, plus regular bathroom visits and we arrived back home at 700am.
Customs took exception to a couple of things we bought back from Turkey, which seemed contrary to things we had read about what was kosher.. At least the tooth brush cleaned boots and poles past muster.
So there emdeth some 50 odd days of an odyssey that won’t be forgotten.
It’s time to bade farewell to Turkey after an unforgettable 38 days, but not before a final treat.
We both went to the Turkish bath and other than the dangly bits I think I had three people give me a going over from head to toe and that omits the barber.
Most of it was clad in a towel with some little rag for which I could find no use.
First of all it was laying on the hot and cold marble in the sauna section with a skyward view through a myriad of portholes in the roof.- treatment was self administered.
That was followed by a towel clad guy give me a stern luffering for 20 minutes after which I am sure I lost one complete layer of skin. He even showed me the dead bits.
He followed that up with a soapy lathering whilst I was still laying on the marble and then sitting upright at something resembling a baptismal font where soapy massage was followed by cleansing with buckets of warm water.
That was the end of that attendant and for some reason he kept showing me his badge number (30) with a ‘ remember me’ – after being that close and personal how could I forget.
Into another room for the oil massage. If I still have a sore muscle in my body that they didn’t get to massage I will be surprised.
It was 30 minutes of sometimes gentle and sometimes painful as he worked on knots. It was a complete head to toe and he worked extremely hard, working up a pretty heavy sweat and some uncomfortable heavy breathing. Like the previous bloke number 27 gave me the ‘remember me’ message.
I must say I nearly dozed off at one stage.
Next it was some bloke who directed me to the marble area and gave a few instructions on what I should do. No number or parting comment.
After about 25 minutes of unassisted bathing a sweaty and slippery me was directed to the showering area. Degreased and less slippery I was then escorted to the rest and dress area where another unnumbered guy toweled me down and sent me upstairs to my relaxation and dressing chamber. Another unnumbered guy was my usher.
That ended the process and I was as smooth and soft as a baby’s bum from head to toe. Went down stairs to pay and who was there to greet me, none other than number 27 and 30- ‘remember me and my number’ was about a gratuity, even after paying $100 for the treatment. Slightly euphoric from the experience I tipped them both and sat waiting for Jane.
In those moments I realised I still had a days growth so it was into the strategically placed barber for a shave and eyebrow trim. During the process he mentioned he would remove the pony tail I had accumulated from a poor head shaving routine.
Ever keen to please he grabbed a cigarette lighter and burnt hair off my ears which must have been plenty because it smelt like a small forest fire. Just when I thought it was over he had one more treatment to administer – the removal of hairs on the top of my nose tip – discernible only to an eagle eyed barber.
Who could resist a nose tip wax which when administered made one resemble a green nosed reindeer – if only I could have snapped a picture. Getting it removed didn’t tickle and he administered some pain numbing gel to nose and ears before taking my $15.
Celebrated with coffee and cake and with time and money running out our last visit was to the rooftop garden restaurant near our hotel for a lunch snack. it was not until we got up there that we realised we were almost in the backyard of the Blue Mosque and also had a filtered harbour view in several directions.
Headed back to hotel and got picked up for our 520 flight to London, with a bagful of memories.
Trip to airport was fast and furious and saw our first traffic accident in a city where near misses are the norm.
The airport is magnificent and still undergoing more extensions. That said, airports drinks are ridiculously priced , like everywhere else in the world – a beer and small bottle of wine was $40 and a croissant $15. Our purchases made sure we used our spare change.
Security was very strict. One full baggage and personal X- on entry, another when going through to customs and at the departure gate it was a full body pat down and complete check of your hand luggage, including Swabs of shoes, bags, phones and IPads.
My observation about Istanbul being a beautification destination was borne out by advertisements constantly running in the airport and 4 blokes on the flight having hair transplants – my treatment at bathhouse paled into insignificance.
The BA experience did not improve. Got there 3 hours early as requested and we’re about number 6 on the queue. After 35 minutes the 5 booths opened and 4 were assigned to Business Class. As were were waiting staff ran the line explaining it was a full flight and people would have to put baggage under their seats, that is despite paying full freight and conditions stating one piece of cabin luggage was available. Renegade Jane ignored the request and I checked mine through with luggage after another plea at gate to minimise cabin luggage,
It was not until we were about to board that we realised we were not sitting together, we had been assigned window seats a row apart. So much for being a Qantas Club member and Jane being lifetime Silver FF- seems code shared flights dont respect the fact.
Leg room was disgraceful , even with seat in upright position your knees touched the seat in front – could not really keep banging it with my knee with Jane occupying it. The other thing was seats could not recline.
On board the plane they gave you a mini sized packet of chips and bottle of water for a flight of almost 4 hours. Would appear they are mirroring the el cheapo airlines. After the 5 hour delay with first flight, i will be tossing up whether to use them again.
Arrived on time and pretty quickly got through Customs and collected baggage and it was on the train to Earls z court in somewhat cooler temperatures than what we had been experiencing.
Booked into our hotel for our third visit here and then out for dinner at a local Italian restaurant before braving the chill and getting to bed at 11, which was 200 am Istanbul time – little wonder we were zonked
Up at 545 to be ready for pick up for our 4-5 hour drive to Gallipoli.
Picked up on time and collected the remaining crew before snaking through backstreets onto a freeway packed in both directions.
A couple of pit stops along the way as we tracked Sea of Mamara, with its ports at places like Botas , where huge gas and oil reservoirs serviced the ships. Many were anchored just a couple of 100 metres offshore.
Swung away from coast through some rolling rural territory mainly with crops and dotted with electricity pylons. Roads were absolutely fantastic.
Around 50km mark from Gallipoli the pine plantations started as we started to go down other side of the peninsula. We did not cross the huge suspension bridge over the Dardanelles.
Back close to water and seaside dotted with shipyards, with huge vessels just off shore.
The closer we got the steeper and taller the mountains became and they were covered in dense pines.
Close to shore were different versions of mussel farms, some lease stule and others stand up, similar to what farmers in Coffin Bay are using.
Arrived at town just short of starting point around 12, had a typical lunch m, then o walk along seashore , where there was a representation of the trenches at TheNek, before getting onto bus for the Gallipoli Peninsula Anzac Tour.
We had an amazing guide whose wartime history knowledge was amazing and I am sure we both walked away more informed about the Gallipoli campaign than before we arrived.
Ironically today was the 108th anniversary of Turkey deciding to join the Germans after Churchill reneged on a ship building contract. Another irony was the first and only naval invasion by Allies which resulted in the loss of a third of of that fleet and resultant defeat, was on Matt Lee’s birthdate ie 18th March – thank God something came out of that date.
We got a complete rundown on each significant battle in which Anzac’s were involved and the successful and failed tactics of both sides. When you think that the landing at Anzac Cove North Beach resulted in gaining just 1 kilometreof territory in 8 months before evacuation, it was a clear win to the Turks.
The better trained , led and acclimatized locals who were hardened sildiers fighting troops who were basically 60% volunteers made a major differences.
The terrain also helped with Turks holding high positions and Allie’s faced with barren cliffs and gullies with no cover.
In such a beautiful beach setting it’s difficult to comprehend how the men felt jumping off and seeing what challenges lay ahead.
The loss of lives in 25th April is mind boggling , as was the 8000 odd soldiers who died from both sides on an area no bigger than a football field at Lone Pine. The Nek was nothing short off carnage and plain bad man management by both British and Aust commanders.
At several places trenches were less than 10 metres apart and many were tunnelled under as another form of attack. With trenches and tunnels main defence and attack mediums it’s little wonder our soldiers were named Diggers.
Wandering through the War Cemeteries was very sobering and emotional looking at how many young Aussies lost their lives in the line of duty. It was a very different situation in the Turkish memorials where many were in their 30’s.
Ataturk was a fabulous tactician and leader of men, but post war as President reflected beautifully on the futility of war.
Today was a day to remember, where lots of tears were shed and fittingly it finished at the top of the hill which was the pinnacle at the start of the campaign, but ended up the last battlefront, where NZ lost half of their total campaign casualties.
One ironic fact was that hardly a casualty was experienced during the evacuation because it was so well planned – oh had such thought gone into planning the assault.
Finished around 530 and endured the 4.5 hour trip home, for us to finish up packing and say farewell to Turkey and head for London.
Well at least today the feet got some respite for part of the day with a boat trip on the Bosphorus.
Up, fed and watered and out the door by 930 to get to wharf by 1015 for an appointment with what looked like a lovely cruiser.
Having now mastered the transport we were there on time and boarded a beautiful 20 metre cruiser and had the whole top floor to ourselves.
Fully guided trip with commentary the entire way from the wharf in Europe and under two bridges to alight in Asia on the other side of Bosphorus , albeit only for 15 minutes- but enough time to get the famous red yoghurt.
Suffice to say we saw our fill of castles and palaces, some which mow operate as museums, government buildings ( like Egyptian embassy) , schools or with one a $100m purchase by a Saudi Prince just to sit there under a bridge unattended, but with tag of the most expensive waterfront in Istanbul.
It’s an interesting way to see the place and recognise just how hilly Istanbul is and how so many waterfront houses of Ottoman design still exist. We were one of a flotilla of cruise boats. Often accompanied by tankers and the groups of small fishing boats trying their luck. We did see one bloke land a decent sized fish. An all men cruise with about 200 aboard floated past at one point and our guide must have noticed something because he mentioned ‘not peeing over the side’.
Real estate on waterfront ranges from $15m to $ 100m and it’s mainly big business owners, actors, movie stars or footballers who call them home. The President just happens to have three mansions. Off course there are the hotels like Four Seasons and Kempinsky where a nights stay in Sultans room can cost $40k.
Naturally several of the 3200 mosques in Istanbul have absolute or near waterfront positions , including the biggest mosque in Asia with its six spires and one which provides separate prayer facilities for Muslim, Jewish
and Christian faiths.
Waterfront living has its dangers with one house being severely damaged by an out of control freighter not long back and still under repair.
The only island on Bosphorus has a swimming pool, cafe and a partly demolished disco. The owners didn’t get permission to build so Govt arrived one day and demolished it.
The Bosphorus is an interesting stretch of water 750 metres at its narrowest point and 3200 metres
at its widest. It’s quite bumpy and because Black Sea is higher than Sea of Mamara there are different currents at different depths going in opposite directions. One of the two major bridges, supposedly a Golden Gate lookalike , crosses at the narrow point.
Plenty of money invested into rebuilding historical sites including a seaside castle, which was supposedly built in 4 months in days gone by. None being invested in the Military school, from which young bucks initiated the most recent coup. The old waterside police academy turned into a money spinner being sold and now housing the most expensive restaurant in Istanbul, which along with Sortie nightclub are the places to be seen. Interesting that a hospital, cemetery and university have prime waterside positions.
Universities charge no fees, but entry requirements are apparently quite stringent. From our experience a lot of women study architecture.
The main feature on Asian side is the new 550 metre telco tower in which you can take a lift to the top. There are decidedly less high rise buildings, with larger homes more prevalent. One palace was unique, being only one with a pool.
Not sure if it’s because of 99th birthday but flags, including one 1400 sq metres, adorn most buildings along with pictures of Ataturk.
After 3 hours it was back to port, I visited local football stadium of Besitkas ,but no tours available.
Back on tram and down to wharves in search of the famous fish sandwich, so Jane could tick it off her list of things to do and taste. Found and enjoyed after a long search and then headed for the meat market.
On he way we passed the square next to our bath house we will visit you n Friday and it was full of armed police, riot squad guys with shields and a huge water cannon. There was a group of protesters waving yellow flags, but their cause remained a mystery.
We moved on quickly to the meat market, situated behind an enormous aqueduct in pristine condition, which was full of the traditional cuts of meat and every other edible, or what in some cases looked inedible, bits of cows and lamb bodies. Not sure about hygeine regulations, but most people covered noses when they went in. One goat owner was tempting fate tethering his animal in the meat market square
Finished the tour and headed downhill towards the tram station. Had an interesting incident with a guy avoiding the 1 lira WC entry fee who tried to squeeze through turnstile simultaneously with me – only one persons private parts were damaged in the process.
On way back to tram had the usual battle at traffic lights with signals meaning little to drivers or pedestrians – love to see the statistics on car/ people accidents.
On the tram and again noticed the number of men and women who had undergone cosmetic medical procedures. Women mainly had surgery on noses and top lips, whilst blokes looked like hair transplants. Interestingly the car we came from airport in was sponsored by some Clinic, so perhaps Istanbul is the home of beautification.
Jumped off tram at earlier riot scene and it had disappeared.
A little afternoon gelato fix and walked back home to pack our bags as much as possible, given tomorrow was a 14 hour round trip to tour Gallipoli. Also needed to know if everything would fit into suitcases.
On the way back all of the hawkers had given up on us and just waved us by . Poor old Bananaman had a miserable day as council was digging up road right where he sat. Only happy hawker was restaurant man who we assured we were coming for dinner.
Everything did fit in bags and dinner was fabulous and I ticked off the drink called raiki , a bit like Ouzo. Only thing left is whether we try a Hookah – the type you smoke.
Obviously needed the sleep , rising from the dead after 9 hours.
Down to the basement for a pretty good buffet breakfast, dropped off the washing and headed off for another day of being a tourist.
Same people who accosted us last night repeated the dose and walking on roads was a bit scary as it moved back to a working day.
The crowds were still big with plenty of flag and umbrella waving guides leading packs of people along with big avenue with its mighty obelisks and pretty garden beds and fountains.
Headed for the Topkapi Palace passing snaking lines at the Sophia Hagia and basilica Cistern which we would visit later. Found the Palace entry after more local guides tried to lure us in to private tours to miss the queues.
We persevered and whooshed through security and only had a 30 minute wait for tickets audio devices. Like every Palace we have visited there is a real sense of opulence with huge gardens, statues, Fresco’s, ornate tiling and a real difference between how the royalty and others lived.
Naturally our first visiting place was the harem where the Sultan had his pick of between 300-500 concubines. They contend they were not slaves, just people stolen from other countries. Most famous one who ended up one of his wives was the daughter of a Ukrainian priest.
The harem was under the control of a black eunuch and other eunuchs provided all of the services for the harem.
The bathrooms for concubines were very basic compared to those provided to the Sultan and his family, particularly his mother.
Huge greeting rooms were spread through the palace with the level of guest being greeted determining their level of decoration. There were huge fireplaces and thrones in each of them and the tiling, often with quotes from the Koran overlaid, was absolutely magnificent.
Visited the library and then the Circumcision Room, which was under renovation and access cutoff you might say.
There was a heavy presence of ‘no photos’ signage which everyone ignored and the guards in every room didn’t bother enforcing,
Wandered the gardens and took in the views over the Bisphorus with 300 school kids who wanted to be your best friend with high fives and fist pumps. When you told them you were from Australia, you got the kangaroo hop impression.
Wandered down to the kitchens with their huge dome and chimneys filling the sky. My dear old Dad would have been proud that the Confectionery one held pride of place.
With kitchens sometimes serving up to 10,000 people the size of platters etc were big to say the least.
Three hours was enough to satisfy the curiosity and we headed for the exit and hauled ourself up some steep stony roads to a lunch spot.
The next assignment was the y Cistern which was an architectural and engineering marvel. A water source under the city which was probably 20-30 metres high and the size of 2-3 football fields with its roof suspended with ornate pillars. It was fed from the Black Sea. The lighting and recently added sculptures gave it an eerie feeling.
Entry prices were interesting, with signage saying overseas guests over 65 were free on presentation of passports. Our ticket seller must have missed the email and we paid full freight. Got to say Istanbul is a very expensive City when compared to other parts of Turkey with some things two and three times dearer. VAT doesn’t help.
Out for another peek at line into Sophia Hagia and it was still ridiculous like most other major attractions, it seems as though tourists are catching up on time lost to Covid. One thing about all major attractions is security, as well as armed Army people at front gates you go through several layers of security.
Headed off for a stroll and managed an ice cream without the show and sat with the usual collection of relatively healthy stray dogs, which you can feed courtesy of coin operated feeders for them and cats.
Later on headed to local bar for a drink, another $10 a beer joint and had our quiet time interrupted by a pretty heated argument between the owner and a cranky customer, which nearly came to blows. The embarrassed owner apologised and gave us one drink free and invited us back for a freebie next time we were near.
Popped over the road for some ceramic shopping and got some good bargains, until owner realised he had done a bad deal and reneged on the deal saying come back tomorrow.
A bit of a break and it was off to dinner, wandering down the street recommended by Lonely Planet. Top spot had 100 seats and no customers which wasn’t a great sign, so wandered along getting coat tugged by every spruiker. One guy gave an impassioned plea not to break his heart and offered a free Mezze plate , so after a quick rendition of ‘don’t go breaking my heart’ we went in.
It was a great choice and the theatre with which Jane’s was presented validated the decision. Mine was less spectacular but delicious.
Finished dinner and it was back to the Sophia Hage for a late night effort to get in. We joined a much smaller line, navigated security and then entered the mosque.
It was middle of prayer time so access was restricted, but what you could see was magnificent, especially the dome.
Lots of people sitting around obviously awaiting prayer time to finish, so we followed suit and 10 minutes later had full access to the remainder of the area , with exception of the prayer altar. It was overlooked by balconies presumably for visiting Imam’s or special guests.
Ticked off another highlight and headed home, without any hydration stops knowing tomorrow’s visit to the Bazaar and Spice Market will be crowds and shopping, my two least favourite things in life.
How unAustralian, we can’t even get to see the Cup here because none of the betting agencies or racing authorities have a broadcast deal.
Today was markets day, so out on the usual route, now on first name basis with all of the touts. We took a slightly different route to check out the Turkish Bath we are going to on Friday morning before heading off to London in the evening.
Baths look amazing based on promotional films out the front, I am just hoping I don’t get the giant who was massaging the client with such gusto he was nearly coming off the table.
We made our appointments and headed for the Grand Bazaar. Grand is an apt description, it rambles on in a grid fashion with so many shops selling the same products you needed to check the faces to see whether you were retreading old ground.
Gold, silver, ceramics , watches, clothes and any Turkish based trinket you can imagine. Pretty sure each and every designer bag, perfume, clothes or watches were knock offs and assessing the quality of jewelry was anyone guess.
The two stand outs were that there was no prices shown, the hawker would turn the item over and quote a starting price and then the haggling began. Looking at the back of some products there was only a barcode no value, so effectively they were imaginary prices.
We had a bit of fun haggling but probably paid overs, as we found some products cheaper in local markets.
The second thing was most sellers were not particularly aggressive and seemed more interested in drinking tea. The guy running around with a tray full of tea was probably busiest person in the market.
After a few hours we journeyed out into the adjacent streets where more of the locals shop and prices were definitely cheaper. The crowds were even bigger and as usual there was lots of argy bargy as there is no protocol for what side of the footpath or car free road in this instance, that you walked on.
I think I saw the smallest adult ever when a man swished past at just over waist height.
We did a little bit of shopping, with Jane now the expert haggler – think I will call her Marvin after the boxer – then headed down the hill to the Spice Market.
What a fascinating place, much smaller than the Bazaar but selling an amazing array of spices, sweets and food based products.
Prices were a bit more evident and owners more engaging . You could have filled up just on the samples. We bought some wares and were treated to some very tasty pomegranate tea.
It was amuch different experience to the Bazaar.
Armed with our bagful of bargains, at least in our minds, it was off on another tram before heading to local cafe for what proved to be another expensive dining experience. Think we are now convinced it’s time to ‘suck it up Susan’ and just eat and enjoy.
A little rest and we reset the compass to head over to the other side of town with a train ride over the bridge , followed by a funicular ride up into the Beyoğlu and Kasimpada areas.
The huge square with magnificent statue and a quaint ancient tram cloaked the fact this was the trendier part of town. A much younger crowd dressed more modernly and every second shop was high end. The cafe’s were smarter in decor and staff dressed immaculately.
The cafe’s had a selection of sweets to turn you into a diabetic just looking in the window. No window shopping for us , we were in having a late afternoon coffee and cake that were scrumptious.
We walked the length of the avenue side stepping a sea of people heading in the opposite direction and got serenaded by the swag of street performers along the way.
A bit more retail therapy , including a stop at potato food shop with great butter sculpture and we were on the downward trip of the funicular and another tram to the start of the bridge.
The place was packed with camera operators filming a Turkish soapier, so maybe we will end up on TV.
We popped down to an underhang of the bridge full of restaurants with magnificent views of the Bosporus . We popped back up halfway along to be greeted by wall to wall anglers all dangling lines about 50 metres down to the water. Looking at their buckets it was difficult to asses whether it was a catch or spare bait.
Another tram ride to the Sultanate area which was still abuzz with people visiting Sophia Hagia and wandering around the avenue. We now know it was the ancient hippodrome where chariot racing was conducted.
Thete will be different racing there on Sunday when the Istanbul Marathon finishes. It’s the only marathon which crosses two continents , starting in Asia and finishing in Europe.
Off home to sleep and dream of tomorrow’s boat trip on the Bosphorus.
Today was moving day and it started with driver dragging both our bags about 800 metres on cobblestones to board a minibus with a bunch of Russians, packed in like sardines, all headed for Kayseri to fly onto Istanbul.
Could not see out the windows for the dust, so just watched the clock hoping we would get there by 1030 which was 90 minutes before flight.
No need for worry made it with 5 minutes to spare and after usual security check found there were only a couple of flights due to leave in next 90 minutes.
Ran into a lot of Aussies on a whirlwind 12 day tour with Trip A Deal. Not many seasoned travellers among them and they created mayhem going through front door of plain to get to back seats, despite being told to use back stairs. They then struggled with seating allocation and getting bags into overhead lockers.
A very smooth flight into Istanbul and Captain dipped the wings to give us our first sight of the Bosphorus before landing and taxiing for about 15 minutes. It was reminiscent of our last flight here and we actually landed very close to where our running race occurred – this time with less urgency.
Got through to pick up area and ended up in a luxury VW transporter for an 80 minute drive to town.
It was fine for first 30 on the freeway where we were flanked by lots of forests. After that it was driving in ever diminishing circles as we wound our way through streets just wide enough for one car, despite being two way. Lots of tooting and yelling and incessant directions from the GPS whilst we dodged cars and people in the amazing old town.
We were in a nice hotel which was very close to the popular tourist spots, with a close up view of the washing from over the road.
Unpacked quickly and headed out for the Blue Mosque about 10 minutes walk away. Got fronted by everyone from restsuranters, to fur sellers to men selling bananas before reaching the huge avenue leading to the Mosque. It was packed with tourists, hawkers , roving tour guides and stray dogs, all under the watchful eye of the tourist police.
Got into the mosque and was disappointed that most of it was under wraps due to renovations, but along with 500 others we got a filtered view of the famous ceiling dome.
Shoes back on and we thought we would try our luck at the Sophia Hagia. It was prayer time , so no access which created a 500 metre queue to get in.
We decided to wait till tomorrow to try our luck and headed off to have our first Yeeros of the trip, which we enjoyed under the watchful eye of one of the many mutts in the square. Thought about an ice cream, but the vendors go through an entertainment ritual which means a 5 minute wait for each customer.
Probably should have waited because our alternative was an Aperol Spritz at a local bar costing us just on $40 for two drinks. Must have been Mosque and dance tax based on location and waiters doing an impromptu folk dance.
Worn out from the two days of early rising and the trials of dealing with huge crowds again we headed home to bed.
Got an unexpected wake up midway through our slumber when the TV let out a loud pop and died- if that’s what a missing red light means, because we have watched no TV whilst away, other than that showing in background at rural restaurants.
No sleep in today, it was a 500am rising to get ready to be ferried to the balloon takeoff point.
A long, winding journey on a rough road as part of a caravan of buses had us arrive at a field where you could not get any idea of how many people or balloons were about. It was a sea of headlights and for some reason several police vehicles with lights flashing.
Got fed a packaged snack while waiting and then offloaded to watch the balloons get unloaded off trailers and then inflated. As the sunrise neared it was time for the 28 passengers to be loaded on board, which is not a simple exercise. Clambering on board is not full of grace.
All aboard, briefed on landing protocols and it was burners on full blast as we and 100 other balloons took aloft and deftly jostled for air space.
In full sunlight it was amazing to see the brightly coloured balloons at all heights ducking in and out of rock formation so cleverly , where in some instances you could touch the rocks.
Some of the cliffs were lined with sightseers and on the flat ground a raft of young women in long flowing dresses posed for pictures with an amazing backdrop. There was even two wedding groups taking photographs.
As we soared higher all of the sites we visited yesterday became visible, albeit at a different angle. Again it was photo taking heaven, but deciding on what is a keeper proved difficult.
After an hour we gently floated down to earth, with everyone in the brace position. A very smooth landing was followed by some amazing maneuvers to slightly reinflate the balloon and mount it on the trailer. Then it was a repeat of the earlier exercise this time to get out of the basket. We both made it safely.
Post flight we had a celebratory champagne and got issued our certificate of completion. It will sit neatly next to my 22 Yard Swimming Certificate issued as a youngster.
On reflection it’s a pretty big exercise which is done daily, weather permitting, for 7 months of the year. With 100 balloons, 6 crew for each and 2800 passengers, along with bus drivers and guides there are oround 3600 people engaged for 4 hours requiring a military precise exercise. At about $400 a ride it generates great revenues for the operators.
It was back the hotel, a quick breakfast and then a transfer to join our tour in Goreme.
With 10 others we set off, firstly travelling to the worlds biggest stone carved monastery. It was huge and multi tiered. It’s thought it was for monks with the mirrored image one across the valley for nuns. The nun’s version has experienced caveins over the years and is not accessible.
There were many different areas including kitchen, dining, prayer rooms/ churches and of course a wine cellar.
Access was via some steep dirt paths and then stairs both modern and ancient. The churches had some well preserved Fresco’s. Some of the connecting tunnels were low , narrow and poorly lit.
Finished there and headed to the Hidden Valley, where 300 steps put you on the canyon floor aside a lovely stream. The mountains along both sides were again carved out and in ancient days used by Christians as hiding places. Some of the lower level ones are still used as tea houses and operators have decorated them with lots of scarecrow like figures.
Wandered for about 4 Kms to the finishing spot , a riverside restaurant where we enjoyed lunch.
Another 40 minute drive then to the Underground City a place where locals took refuge in wartimes etc. With a maximum height of 130cm and a metre wide in some spots it was not built for me. I enjoyed a coffee and watched all of the distressed faces, including one of our group who returned after discovering he was claustrophobic.
A much svelter Jane did the whole lot and whist it was interesting she agreed I made the right decision.
The trip to the next spot showed a couple of things about Turkey. One – don’t go into prison unless you want to experience what looked like prison camps during the war, with rows of barbed wire and multiple observation towers with several armed guards.
Two- there will never be a brick shortage, as in the space of about 10 kilometres there was a dozen , each with acres of stock.
Next was two visits to boost the earnings of the guide, an expensive jewelry store like the other day and a specialty food store. Suffice to say she didn’t earn much commission from our spending.
Tour finished with visits to two places we visited yesterday, so we re-enjoyed the views.
Back home for a little bit of rehydration and then dinner at the Barbarian Restaurant, where plattered medieval styled food was served. It was plentiful and we had to reject the free dessert, as we couldn’t get through the main course.
Took our last night time view of the town and headed back home after a fascinating couple of days. Next stop Istanbul and it’s 20 odd million people.
