Some photos from the bike trip so far

Yes I know, it's like 10 posts in one day but I am making use of the internet connection (and comfortable chair) while I've got it. I won't write about our bike trip yet since I've provided a week's worth of reading already; suffice to say it's been just over a week so far and mostly wonderful. We had a busy 1.5 days in Edinburgh after returning from Turkey, with lots of cleaning and packing and a couple of farewells of course, which was sad. It's even sadder than leaving Oz, because we are not sure when we will see these friends again. We have done a big loop so far, which looks a bit like this:

The red part is what we've done; we have spent the past few days resting, recovering and buying more supplies at Margaret's lovely house in Oxford. The blue is what we will start tomorrow. By Tuesday night we will hopefully be safely ensconced in a picturesque French camping ground. That's the plan, anyway. Camping in France is by all accounts a great experience so we are hopeful. It can't be any worse than England (Scotland on the other hand was a dream). Here are some photos, to prove we are actually on a bike and camping, in case anyone doubted us.

Washing day in Pitlochry (our first stop and a lovely campsite with a shop being run by a girl from Western Australia)

Let it be said that using a bike as transport is much harder work than a car, on all sorts of levels. This is Toby in a little village on the Black Isle, using a hack saw to take some knobs off the back tray on the bike so our big bag sits better. I bought the hack saw from a hardware shop over the road and returned it 10 minutes later in case someone else ever needed one. We bikers are a considerate lot. Did you know they even acknowledge each other on the roads? I finally feel like I am part of a gang. Sort of.

We finally saw Loch Ness.

We spent a night in a wig wam near Loch Lomond.

Had a lovely couple of days on Skye, enjoying views like this.

Our final night in Scotland was spent in the grounds of a castle. Very cool.

And for dad's benefit, a picture of the bike (and me) loaded up. Clothes, shoes, toiletries and some cooking gear goes in the panniers. Tent, mats, sleeping bags, pillows and whatever else is left goes in the sports bag. Wallets, phones etc go in jacket pockets. We both have camel backs on our backs for water and other bits and pieces. We have a tank bag too, that holds valuables like the tiny laptop and GPS, and snacks. The key is being organised, and knowing what you have put where (yes Toby, I'm talking to you).

Days 15-17: Istanbul take 2

We had a very hurried breakfast the next morning in the smoky dining car (the 4 men sitting next to us were smoking and drinking beer as though it was 8.30pm, not am), where Jen was getting cranky at the poor service from the train staff. One of the attendants had also fallen asleep in front of the Western toilet overnight so no one could use it. It was a relief to get off the train in Istanbul finally, although the fun wasn’t over. We still had a very crowded ferry ride over the water before piling into taxis. One went off to Chora Church and the rest of us to our hotel, with our driver under strict instructions to follow Jen’s taxi, which he didn’t. Cue a 3 point turn over tram tracks at the worst intersection just outside Aya Sofya on the main road and Jen losing her temper, complete with striding over the road and shaking her fist at our driver through the window. And old man even ran away from her. I saw my life flash before me several times on that drive; sometimes I just had to shut by eyes. The frustrating thing was being so close to the hotel, but being responsible for 5 extra lots of luggage so we couldn’t just get out and walk. Finally we were safely inside our nice room.

Toby and I ate kebabs in the park (mine had chicken and chips, very traditional I’m sure) and then decided to tackle the Grand Bazaar, but due to my non-existent haggling skills it was not a pleasant experience. Luckily we found a shop just outside run by a nice non-yelling man who actually put his prices on his stuff and didn’t bother us at all. It was much nicer so it put us in the mood to have ice creams outside the Blue Mosque, enjoyed the sunshine and then back to the hotel to pretty up for our final group dinner. Jen took us on the tram over the bridge and then up the fernicular to Taksim, an area that felt very different to the part of Istanbul we’d been in until then. It felt European, trendy and local. We had drinks in an alleyway full of restaurants and fish shops and then moved into a restaurant for meze, which is when our American member realised she’d been pickpocketed and had lost her wallet. So she and Jen spent most of the meal on the phone to the police and credit card companies, which put a bit of a dampener on the whole night which otherwise would have been lovely. The food was great and a few of us shared a bottle of raki, which I liked more than I expected. It definitely went well with the food. After dinner a few of us walked down the main drag and got some ice cream. The football had just finished and I guess Istanbul had won because the atmosphere on the streets was electric, like New Year’s Eve. The fernicular was shut so we followed the crowds down the hill to the tram stop to go home.
The next morning we had a lazy start. Most of the group was leaving so we said our goodbyes and then those of us staying were taken by Jen to our next hotel, which was lovely. We sat in their nice rooftop restaurant having tea and getting some ideas for excursions from Jen, who seemed unwilling to leave. She was starting a new group that afternoon as their leader wasn’t available yet, and then the next day was heading off on an active trip full of twenty somethings. Definitely not the job for me; I would need more than just a night off between groups. We had lunch next door to the hotel, even though we realised it wasn’t the same pide place in the Lonely Planet, and then headed off to find the Istanbul Modern, which involved a longer tram ride than we’d had before. It was a good museum, especially as we’d seen so much old stuff in the past 2 weeks. They had a cool Design Cities exhibit and a small one of Russian photography from the 1920s and 30s that I loved. We walked back to the tram via Taksim to look at some of the shops and get some traditional sticky Turkish ice cream that tasted like chocolate paddle pop. In the evening we took Di out for Mother’s Day dinner to a local place with 4 things on the menu, and then some baklava for dessert which wasn’t as good as Mr Delicious.

The next morning after breakfast (which included a strange but tasty fillo and cheese pie) we met another lady from the group and got the tram to the Bosphorus ferry to try out one of Jen’s suggested excursions. We were super early so got good seats and then had an hour looking at boats and fancy hours and pointing to the no smoking sign next to us when people tried to smoke in our section. Yes, we are the smoking police. We managed to get off at the right stop and find a bus back along the coast through some nice areas of Istanbul. I saw one man at a bus stop put his arm through the doors and put a half-used packet of tobacco on the ticket officer’s counter; he got five lira for it. An interesting transaction. We got off at Ortakoy as instructed by Jen and couldn’t find the promised markets, although we did get some gigantic baked potatoes and then waffles for after, which were delicious. It was a long and not very interesting walk back to the tram stop to go home, but we probably needed it after that lunch.

That afternoon Di and I went off to experience our first hamam (Turkish bath). Other ladies on the trip had been doing it at different places, but we decided to save it for the last night. It was quite expensive and a bit odd, but I was glad we did it. We decided to go to one of the older, touristy ones which was near our hotel. I’d read the Lonely Planet explanation, and some online ones, about hamam etiquette, but in the end they weren’t very helpful as it was just different enough to be a bit confusing. We were given towels and showed to our cubicles, which were more like little rooms with a bed and space to change and where you left all your stuff. I had my swimming bottoms on, as that’s what Jen said she did, and Di left her knickers on too, but we were the only ladies there to do so. We walked into the main room which was a big circular space made of marble, with little sinks around the outside walls and a raised platform in the centre, beneath a domed ceiling, where half- or fully naked women were being rubbed by old obese ladies wearing swimsuits. Bizarre. We really had no idea what to do and no one came to tell us, so Di and I just sat by a couple of sinks and started to wash ourselves with the soap we brought. Finally one of the ladies noticed us and came over to get cranky. ‘No wash, no wash,’ she said, and moved Di from her sink to mine, so we sat there on a little platform using small metal bowls to scoop water from the sink and pour it over ourselves. The women being rubbed on the platform all looked very relaxed; they also all looked like they were from the same Scandinavian volleyball team. Not intimidating at all. Di and I sat pouring water for what seemed like ages, and finally realised that until we went and lay in the middle of the platform, the ladies would assume we weren’t ready for our bath. Finally it was our turn; I got laid down on the hot marble and the lady introduced herself as Frances. I got loofahed (but not as much as I expected, or would have liked) and then soaped up, and taken back to another sink to be rinsed, then back to the hot marble to be rubbed with oil, then back to the sink to get rinsed again and have my hair washed, which felt a bit strange. It was like being a child again, and being bathed by my grandmother. Then it was all over so Di and I ran back to our rooms to get changed. Other ladies were sitting around in their towels drinking tea but I kind of just wanted to leave. It was a strange experience but I’m sure you could find places that were a bit friendlier, or where you got a better loofah. I was glad to have finally done it. That afternoon some friends of Di’s flew into Istanbul as part of their holiday, so we met up with them and took them for dinner at the pide place from the Lonely Planet we’d missed the day before. I don’t think any of us got pide but it was a good meal anyway.

The next day we decided to do an early morning visit to the Archaeology Museum, which people in our tour group had been raving about. It was an amazing place as they had amassed a lot of stuff; it was also nice to be in a museum where the stuff was from the same place and didn’t feel like it had been stolen from foreign countries. They had some brilliant tombs and statues but what I remember the most was a cabinet full of ancient tablets with writing on them; one was labelled ‘The Oldest Love Poem In The World.’ Unfortunately there was no translation but I intend to look it up. The others looked very boring; regarding house sales and crops and so on. We got back to the hotel in time to have lunch and then Di got picked up to be taken to the airport. We had another hour which we used to buy some cheap drugs from the chemist and then it was our turn to be taken to the airport. We had to go through several lots of security but fortunately the long lines Di had experienced earlier seemed to have disappeared and it wasn’t too difficult to get through. An uneventful flight to Amsterdam again and then back home to Edinburgh, where we arrived about 10.30pm. All in all, a fantastic trip which comes highly recommended and a big, huge thankyou to Di who made it all possible.

Day 14: Pamukkale

The next morning we had another early bus ride to Pamukkale, about 3 hours away. Our first stop was a local hotel, very unique as it was set over two separate buildings with gardens, a pool and tree houses separating them. We had a chance to change and hear the lunch menu from the lady described by Jen as one of the best cooks in Turkey, and then had a short ride into town up the hill to Hierapolis and the Travertines. The highlight of the ruins was the theatre, with its amazing view and lovely smooth flowing lines. The rest of the ruins were scattered over a large area so we didn’t look at much, even though it was a lovely day and setting. Having spent the previous morning at Ephesus it was more than enough ruins. We looked at the thermal pools but 18 lira seemed a steep price to pay for what is essentially a warm bath shared with strangers. The final part was our walk down the Travertines, a long slope of hard white calcium rock and milky pools. The postcards show bikini-clad ladies frolicking, but you’re not actually allowed to swim and I only saw one girl in a bikini and she looked cold (and a bit silly considering everyone else was clothed). You aren’t allowed to wear shoes (only bare feet or socks), but it wasn’t too rough, a lot like rock pools at the beach. The best bit was sitting on the edge of a trough and resting your feet in the warm flowing water. Bliss. When we finally made it down the hill we were taken back to the hotel and sat on a verandah in the garden where a man from Queensland gave us our cutlery and said he’d been there for 3 weeks and didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon; I could see why. We had a great lunch of stuffed vegies and kebabs and meatballs and then had the chance to use one of the hotel rooms for a shower and a change, which Toby and I did, or just relax and digest until it was time to go to the train.

We got on the train at Denizli and unfortunately it wasn’t nearly as nice as the previous one; it was much older and had signs of wear and tear, and was very very smoky. Although there’d been talk of a party on the train, Toby and I locked ourselves in our cabin all night, trying to avoid the smoke and high-pitched whine of the corridor lights. Not much fun. It was a long 16 hours on that train.

Days 12-13: Selcuk

Lucky the day before had been so good, because the next was awfully boring. We got a bus from Kayakoy to the Fetiye bus station, and then sat on a public bus for 4.5 hours. It wasn’t too bad a trip since they provided drinks and sweets. Jen informed us before the trip that Toby and I were to be considered married from now on, as unrelated men and women aren’t allowed to sit together. Cheapest wedding ever. Mobile phones are also banned on the bus since apparently they interfere with the braking system. That made all of us laugh; I have no idea why they can’t just say it’s for the comfort of our passengers, but anyway. The bus dropped us off at a crazy bus station full of people yelling, and then we got onto a local minibus called a ‘dolmish’ which means stuffed, because they just keep picking people up as long as they’ll fit. That wasn’t much fun either. Finally we got to Selcuk, and our dust-free hotel that made me very happy. The owner’s name was Diamond, but there was no tea and cake on offer unfortunately. Jen took us into town but there wasn’t much to see. There was the ancient Artimus column in a field (what’s left of one of the 7 ancient wonders), the Isa Bey mosque which was very different to others we’d seen, being high and square, and lots of storks in nests. After the walk we all split up for dinner; Toby and I ended up having pide in a little place. It was delicious and cheap (9 lira for both of us). We ate ice cream by the pool back at the hotel and had another early night.

The next morning started early (and cold) with breakfast on the open terrace and a 7.45am bus ride out to Ephesus. Our guide’s name was Nile and he was quite the eccentric character; he was very short and probably in his 70s, and he was always pointing to something saying, ‘Good photo, take a photo,’ and then running off to the next spot to wait for us. The highlights of Ephesus for me was the magnificent library which has been 97% restored (or something) and which we got to see without anybody else around as we were there so early, and the terrace houses which are under a massive glass roof being paid for by the Austrians (who else) and are in the process of being restored. We were lucky to be there so early; by the time we left around 11am the place was overrun by about 100 cruise ship groups. We had a 20 minute walk along the road to the cave of 7 sleepers and the best gozleme ever. We got to see the women making it which was great; they had a whole production line (or circle rather) of rolling out the pastry, then folding it over the filling like a package and cooking it over a hot plate on the fire. Cheese and spinach was the winner again. The cave itself wasn’t particularly inspiring, especially since you couldn’t really tell which cave The Cave was.

We were taken back to the hotel by minibus and then had a free afternoon, so Toby and I rested (as usual) and then went to the Ephesus museum, via the ‘gym’ on a footpath by the Artimus field which was very funny and a lawsuit waiting to happen. The museum was great and only cost 2 lira. One of the first things we saw was a rock in a glass case next to a letter from a Dutch man saying he’d taken it from Ephesus in the 1970s but now being older and wiser he felt very guilty about it, so please accept it back along with his apologies. It was very sweet. The museum’s current exhibition was based on gladiators since they’d excavated a gladiator cemetery nearby. There were some nice graphic diagrams showing cause of death and some depressing statistics about life expectancy. The stuff about crowd pardons was good; current reality TV contestants don’t know how easy they have it with today’s audiences. There was also some interesting philosophical musings on the nature of sport and its relationship to society and individuals, including a statement from someone who thought the only other situation in a person’s life that was similar to the glory of sport was sex. I guess that was written by someone who didn’t dread PE in high school.

After the museum we headed to a shop in town run by a friend of Jen’s called Julia, thinking to buy some little presents for people. We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon (and a stupid amount of money) in the shop, having tea and trying on scarves and chatting with Julia. When she heard we’d been together 5 years and still weren’t married, she told me it was silly women tried to be so equal and yet waited for a man to propose to them, and hey wouldn’t it be great if I just proposed to Toby right now, in her shop? I guess that would have made a good story for her to tell people but instead we just bought lots of stuff. We’d planned to visit St John’s Basilica after the shop but we were exhausted so instead we went back to the hotel to rest before meeting the rest of the group at 5 for our excursion to Sirince, a little village reached after a rather hair-raising mountain drive in a minibus. The main purpose was to taste the fruit wines the region is famous for, so we did that first with mulberry and pomegranate being the favourites although they were all basically crowd-pleasers. Then we went through the markets to a jewellery shop run by the silversmith who made some of the jewellery for the movie Troy. There was a framed picture of Brad wearing one of his amulets. It was a nice little shop with lots of interesting things and he did well out of our group who bought quite a bit; even Toby got himself a Brad-like evil eye pendant. After stocking up on fruit wine we were taken back to town and had a birthday dinner for one of the men on the tour at a restaurant near the hotel. The house speciality was a rather odd concoction of shredded fried potato, yoghurt and a spicy meat stew on top. It was delicious, even if it was strange. Jen bought a cake which no one thought they’d be able to fit in, but it was quite a light chocolate cream sponge and a banana filling that went down a treat.

Days 10-11: Kayakoy

The next morning we were collected from our hotel by two jeeps, with most of the group sitting sideways in the back of one. It was a very new jeep and mostly closed in, and even had seatbelts which is a rarity in Turkey. We drove out of Kas and stopped at a tiny, ‘sandy’ beach off the highway, which had very coarse sand and freezing water. Our next stop was Xanthos, the old Lycian capital and the most interesting thing about that was the school children cleaning the theatre, with girls putting rubbish in bags and boys sweeping. We couldn’t figure out if it was detention or just locals looking after an historical monument. From Xanthos we drove to Saklikent Gorge, where we ate BBQ trout on cushions sitting by a river. After lunch our guide walked us up to the start of the gorge where we hired rubber shoes and then waded into the water. The first part was quite deep and fast, and the guide helped us across, but after that it was much smoother and very shallow. The gorge is made out of limestone and the water was a funny milky blue colour. It was a spectacular walk, I have never been anywhere like it. We couldn’t go very far in so we eventually returned to the jeeps to move onto Kayakoy, our next stop.

Unfortunately the drive took about an hour longer than necessary because the drivers didn’t know how to get to Kayakoy, so we ended up on this narrow winding road up from Fetiye. Coming into the Kayakoy valley was brilliant as you could see the ‘ghost town’ of grey brick buildings on the opposite hillside. Our hotel (Villa Rhapsody, great name) was a white building on the edge of the village, down a dirt road. It had a lovely garden with colourful flowers and winding paths, and a covered bar area by a perfectly blue pool. Unfortunately the rooms didn’t quite live up to the same standard, being very basic and quite dusty. Once we had our rooms we were invited by Attila the owner back to the pool area for tea and homemade orange and poppy seed cake, which was a perfect welcome after a long ride in a bumpy jeep. They had a resident dog and some cats which probably explained a bit of the dustiness, even though other hotels with cats didn’t feel so unclean.

In the evening we walked into the village, which was tiny and full of fields of poppies. And lots of dogs. Jen took us to Poseiden’s bar/restaurant, again a mostly outdoor area under vines and trees nestled below the ghost town. After drinks most of us went across the road to a gozleme place, where we waited ages for a plate of hot chips and our pancakes, even though we were the only people there. The meat and potatoes gozleme some of us got was disappointingly bland and actually improved by tomato sauce, which no good food should be. The cheese and spinach one was much more popular. It was a restless sleep after that with the dusty room, a cough, and a waffled ‘sheet’ on the bed that felt more like a starched tablecloth. Ouch.

There was breakfast by the pool the next day and then we headed off on our ‘mini trek’ to Oludeniz, via the ghost town. It was really creepy and very sad to think of so many people being forced to leave their homes. We stopped by the high church and then Jen explained the walk to us, and sent Toby on ahead to look for markings on the hill. The first part was the hardest as it was a steep and rocky climb through the ruins and the markings were infrequent. But the view from the top was more than worth it. The rest of the walk took about 2.5 hours and was quite easy. The views of the Mediterranean were brilliant and it was really invigorating to be outside and getting some exercise. Communing with nature and what-not. When we finally got to the lagoon, Jen got us a mini bus to drive us around to the beach area since we were running out of time for the paragliders to eat before their flight. The beach area was very touristy, a flat road with the beach on one side and shops, bars etc on the other. Oludeniz is a popular resort for English tourists so there were lots of sunburnt people around. We got sandwiches for lunch and then the paragliders (Toby and two others from the group) went to jump off a mountain. The rest of us got a table at the bar next door where we could watch the beach and the paragliders landing on the grass. The rest of the group went for a boat trip after lunch but I decided I quite liked where I was so I stayed and had a beer and read my book and just enjoyed the feeling of being on holidays. I got to see Toby and the others land (much to my relief) and then we spent the rest of the afternoon at the same table, eating and drinking and enjoying the view and cheesy pop music. We had a chat to one of the paragliding instructors who was quite a character and entertained us with the story of how he met his English wife and so on. We went for a dip in the water, but it was very cold and the pebbles were annoying so we didn’t stay in very long. It was especially sore on your feet once they’d been all softened in the water. No wonder Europeans and the Brits like Aussie beaches so much. Around 5pm Jen put the four of us into a taxi and we got him to drop us off at Poseiden’s where we had an early dinner of meze that included ‘sensitive’ meatballs (covered in burghal and fried), stuffed vine leaves, borek, humus, broad beans in tomato sauce and a bean and dill thing that had the consistency of butter and was really tasty. Once we’d filled up on meze and beer we went back over the road to the gozleme place for dessert, although there was no fire and so considering our long wait the night before, we offered to come back later. But the man was very insistent so we stayed, and it didn’t take long at all; the boys had chocolate and the girls had lemon and sugar which turned out to be a sugar syrup, with lemon wedges on the side. We were so full after that. When we got back to the hotel, the rest of the group was still waiting for their dinner. I think I was asleep by 9pm that night, full and sleepy after our big day.

Days 8-9: Kas

There was another delayed start in Antalya as the front license plate of our mini bus had been stolen overnight; after waiting a while for the police to come we eventually just piled in and drove to the station ourselves. Our driver told Jen that in ten years of driving for Intrepid he had never had so many things go wrong on one trip. He had been great, helping our injured people in and out of the bus and keeping a friendly smile on his face all the time. Once the police were sorted out, we had a magnificent drive snaking along the coast and through lush valleys. There was an early lunch stop for gozleme (Turkish pancakes) by a lake and then we stopped again an hour or so later at Mira, home of St Nicholas and also some brilliant Lycian ruins. We paid 5 lira to look at the tombs carved into the rock face and also an amazing outdoor theatre. I remember thinking how incredible it was that the basic design for theatres hasn’t changed at all, and even back in ancient time there was an effort made to create a grand and beautiful space. Theatres have always had such a sense of occasion about them.

We got into Kas about 3pm that afternoon, to a hotel not quite as nice as Antalya but the room had a little balcony with a lovely view of the ocean. Jen took us for one of her orientation walks through the town, which was quite small and concentrated around the harbour with cobblestoned streets and lots of shops. We had a late lunch by the water and then Toby and I went down a little path trying to find a beach. It turned out Kas’s coastline was just rocks. We were accosted by a ‘friendly’ man who invited us to his free beach and when we said no, started to open his satchel and said, ‘Well then I have some presents for you.’ We just ran away. Toby didn’t really mind as the man acted so nice, but I found it far more intimidating and manipulative than the shopkeepers who are obviously aggressive; I just didn’t trust it. Toby rested in the afternoon as he still wasn’t feeling well, and I went in search of a beach for some journal time. But the one over the road from the hotel was a beach/restaurant, very popular in Kas where there is a café overlooking the water and you can lie on a beach chair. But I assume the pressure to buy something is enormous, so I ended up on the terrace of our hotel, all closed in to the elements but entirely glass so the view was wonderful.

Jen took us to one of her favourite restaurants for dinner; the girl who’d broken her ankle had decided to fly home so it was her final meal with us. The place was called Mama’s, even though the girl who seemed to be in charge was probably thirty years old. The speciality of the house was called Mama’s Pastry; either meat or mushrooms mixed with cheese and then wrapped in thin pastry, coated in breadcrumbs and deep-fried. At least I think that’s how they did it; apparently she refuses to share the recipe. It was delicious. The other memorable part of the meal was a dip made of grated carrot, yoghurt and cooked zucchini flesh (no seeds). It was a meal that made me realise that after a week, I still wasn’t sick of Turkish food and had no hankering for spaghetti bolognaise or anything else, like some other people in the group. I found the food varied and seasonal and fresh, and almost always with perfect spices. Yum.

Toby and I got up early the next morning to farewell the girl going home; Toby had to help her down the stairs so I went to say goodbye. We were sad to see her go but she seemed happy with her decision, especially as her insurance company had arranged for her to fly business class with Emirates (a later email from her said she’d been upgraded to first class and would never be able to fly cattle class again). We went back to bed for a while and later ate breakfast in the terrace of the hotel (I remember their hard boiled eggs had been halved and sprinkled with paprika and dill, a nice change from the usual plain eggs, and the tomato wedges were mixed with perfect fresh basil, and as well as plain bread there were triangles of puff pastry you could pull open and fill with cheese or honey or whatever). After breakfast, we walked into town to get on our private boat for the day. This day ended up being one of our favourites of the entire trip as it was so relaxing and beautiful. You are forced to relax and enjoy the view; I suppose you could take a book or your MP3 or even a laptop but I really think it would ruin the experience. We stopped in a little cove mid-morning and Toby and I and another couple swam, even though it was freezing. The water was the most amazing colour of blue. We got back on the boat to another cove where you could swim to land and a few people did, but by then I was dry and warm and happy to stay on board. While we were anchored there they served us lunch – big salads and bread and kebabs and meatballs they barbequed on a gas burner set up on the gang plank. Another boat had the same idea as us to stop in the same cove, and after a little while a man in a small motorboat came by selling ice creams. What a great job. They were expensive but the experience was worth it.

After lunch we went to another island where the village of Simena is, which was full of shops and restaurants spilling down a steep hillside. It was a maze of dusty pathways bordered by weeds and haunted by women and children selling bracelets. Toby and I decided to forgo the 5 lira fortress and tomb walk in the heat, and instead followed Jen to a café she claimed made some of the best ice cream in Turkey. But we were a week too early; Jen was lifting all the metal lids on the ice cream counter staring into the empty pots, wailing ‘No ice cream? No ice cream?’ The boy just shrugged. So we bought a really expensive Diet Coke and just enjoyed the view. The rest of the group ended up there as well, all in search of the famous ice cream, so I’m sure they are making a fortune selling drinks to people who come for ice cream and can’t be bothered leaving. Simena was also the place I bought some evil eye bracelets for myself and Di; after our two broken limbs Jen had instructed the group to all go and buy ourselves evil eye amulets, which are supposed to protect you from bad luck. The whole group ended up wearing at least one, if not more. It’s a silly superstition but after 2 broken bones in nearly as many days, we weren’t taking any chances.

On the way back to Kas the weather changed and we had a choppy, grey ride. We made it back in one piece. Toby and I spent the night with another couple on the trip, having dinner at a place near the water and then big desserts in a cute café called the Hideaway, which was down a little pathway beside a house and really just a garden full of trees and tables and chairs. It was lovely, even though I was so full after dessert I could barely move.

Day 7: Antalya

We set our alarm for 7 and joined some of the rest of the group for an early morning walk along the water. We figured we’d missed enough of the optional activities and it was time to take advantage of the fact we had someone showing us around such lovely places. We walked out to the island where we’d eaten dinner, and got to go inside an old Greek Orthodox church that had been gutted. It was sad to see lots of graffiti, but there were some signs it was being restored. Toby and I started to dream of buying a house there (or even a church). It would be a great place to write one’s novel.

We got back to the hotel around 9 and sat down for breakfast with one of the Australian girls who told us she’d tripped on the stairs coming down from her room and hurt her ankle. She said it seemed okay and I told her not to tell Jen, who was now a bit paranoid about our group when it came to stairs. I wanted to go rose product shopping since the area was famous for its roses, so I left her and Toby to finish their packing and went out. The shop I wanted to visit was shut so I went to the bazaar, which was really just a tiny courtyard with some shops in it. I went to a shop recommended by another couple in the group and bought some hand cream, although the two kids minding the shop absolutely stared at me the whole time and really invaded my personal space. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be chatty or nervous or turned off shoplifting.

Back at the hotel I ran into Di, who said the girl’s ankle was swollen up and looked like her friend’s when she had broken hers in Mexico. Great. Jen decided to err on the side of caution and took her off to the hospital, which she had jokingly pointed out when we drove into town the previous afternoon. They were back in just less than an hour, with a partially broken ankle, a plaster cast and crutches that had all cost her around 70 lira which seemed a bargain. She was very wobbly on the crutches so Toby helped carry her to the bathroom and then into the van. She was a very small woman so if it had to happen to anyone I suppose it was good it was her. No one could believe we had two broken bones in less than a week. Jen was incredulous, having never had an injury like that during her time in Turkey, but she coped well and never lost her sense of humour (in front of us, anyway).

After the morning’s drama, we had a three hour drive through some spectacular mountain scenery and arrived in Antalya in the afternoon. I got my first glimpse of the Mediterranean but driving into the city, it felt like any other affluent, concrete-clad place at first. Luckily our hotel was in Kaleici, the old town by the Roman harbour. We had an interesting time navigating the tiny cobbled streets in the mini bus but eventually made it to the hotel where we fell in love with it immediately, perched as it was with views of the harbour and ocean. There was a pool in a gorgeous courtyard and then to get to our room we walked through another terrace full of shady trees and fountains. The room was lovely too, with a really clean bathroom and a window seat looking out onto the terrace and across the town.

Di and the Scottish lady went off to play an expensive round of golf and our injured one went off to rest, so Jen took the rest of us down to the harbour where we saw them making sticky Turkish ice cream and said no to all the men who wanted us to take cruises on their boats, and then up the cliff to find food. After lunch everyone else went off to the museum but Toby and I decided we would rather spend our money and a beautiful afternoon just exploring the town, which felt very Surfers Paradise in places. I bought a sun dress (didn’t haggle) and we went to a chemist as Toby had a sore throat and bought some cheap Strepsils and gargle. We had time before dinner to make use of the quaint gym in the hotel where half the equipment didn’t work and the other half was broken in some way. For dinner we walked down the hill (with Toby carrying our injured friend) to a restaurant on the water where the food was okay and the view more than made up for it. The water really was the most amazing shade of blue, especially close to the water where it is definitely turquoise.

This was the day we started really feeling like we were on holidays, with such a nice hotel and fantastic weather and a relaxed, coasty vibe about the place. We were sorry to only be staying one night, although Jen promised us we wouldn’t mind so much once we got to Kas, our next stop.

Day 6: Egirdir

We had a lazy start the next day; there was a pottery tour at 9.30 am which Toby and I decided to skip in favour of a sleep-in. It was the first full night’s sleep I’d had in days and I felt like a new woman when I woke up. We had been planning to explore some of the caves by ourselves but we ran out of time so we just met the rest of the group at 11 and left by bus to pick up Jen at the hospital, where she had been visiting our fallen comrade who ended up needing to be flown back to Istanbul for surgery. We were very sad to have lost one of our group in such awful circumstances, but I’m sure not as sad as she was. At times like this I think travelling on a tour is such a good idea; Jen was able to help deal with the insurance company and arrange for someone to fly with her, and also for some Istanbul friends to visit her occasionally so she wouldn’t go crazy. From Goreme we drove through rolling farmland until about lunchtime when we hit the Anatolian plateau, and then the landscape was full of flat nothingness. We hate at a roadside restaurant that was super expensive – my own spoonful of rice and salad cost 6 lira, while Toby’s plate of meatballs that half filled him up cost 8. Ouch. There was a little playground outside the restaurant so Toby and I played on the swings and monkey bars; it was nice to be outside in a T shirt and not cold, as up until that point the Turkish weather had not been much better than what we’d left behind in Scotland.

The rest of the drive was boring, although a couple of things caught my eye. One was that occasionally you would see families living in tents by the side of the road; I asked Jen about them who said they are semi-nomadic farm workers. It looked like a tough way to raise kids. The other was a man I saw in a field, kneeling under a tree in a seemingly random direction I assumed was towards Mecca. I loved the simple elegance of his position, and the ritual of it; the idea that in any day, no matter what you are doing, there is time to just stop and think about something bigger than you. But mostly I slept in the bus, until we hit what Jen called the lake district, which was much more interesting. Lake Egirdir, where we stayed, was incredibly beautiful and rather alpine-esque being ringed by mountains, some with snow, although parts of the shore looked very Mediterranean. After we got to our (not very nice) hotel we went straight out for a walk along the water, which looked clean and clear and wasn’t as cold as I expected. Toby skimmed rocks but I just couldn’t get it so I threw them instead. For dinner we were driven out to an ‘island’ on the lake that was mostly inhabited by Greek people until the population exchange in the 1920s. We had drinks on a terrace looking over the water but it got too cold so we moved inside to eat. Most of us got trout (a bargain at 6 lira); we also had dolmades, borek, bread and chips although we had to ask for the latter which didn’t arrive until we’d finished everything else. My stomach handled all the food which I was grateful for; the magic of Di’s pills.

Days 4-5: Goreme

We woke up on the train to farms and got off at Ankara, Turkey’s capital city (who knew?). It was not the most exciting of places; it probably has the same inferiority complex as Canberra. We were picked up at the station and drove until after 9.30, by which time we were well out of Ankara and it seemed the breakfast Jen had promised us might never come. There must have been a miscommunication between Jen and the driver, but we stopped eventually at a roadhouse restaurant that was strangely formal with stained satin tablecloths and waiters in striped satin waistcoats and bow ties. It was a bit much for 10 am really. Jen ordered us all the Turkish version of scrambled eggs, which were mostly tomatoes and peppers, with chilli and a bit of egg. It was delicious. That plus proper Turkish bread and two cups of black tea = perfect breakfast. Then we were back in the bus for another three hours, through rolling farmlands and tiny little villages off the highway. I slept a lot of the way although it didn’t do much to make up for my restless night.

Coming into Cappadocia was more interesting, as we started to spot the white rocks the region is famous for. I had no idea what to expect from this area, although I’d read descriptions and seen photos, but it absolutely did not disappoint. Goreme was amazing, a small village practically carved into the white rocks. There was a lot of building going on, I guess lots of people like the idea of living or staying in a cave. Our hotel was amazing; Toby and I were in a really cave-like room without windows. The terraces on the hotel had brilliant views down the hill. Once we were settled in the hotel we went to have lunch in a house that had been converted into a restaurant. Jen had ordered our food from the road so it had been cooking for hours in little terracotta pots. We sat around a low table on cushioned benches and ‘donkeys’ (small stools you straddle) and we ate bread, red cabbage, mini chillies and shepherd salad (the tomato and cucumber mixed with mint and other things). The waiters broke the tops off the terracotta pots, the way you do with a hard-boiled egg, and then tipped the contents onto a place with rice and cabbage. So good.

By the end of lunch I was ready to collapse from exhaustion (it had been a busy week) but people were ordering dessert and talking about visiting a carpet shop. I managed to escape from the group and went back to the hotel to sleep for two hours. I had a long hot shower and did some washing and was feeling much more human by the time everyone got back from their trip to the carpet shop.

For dinner we went to a nearby village to eat in a local family’s house, which was more a series of terraces, stairs and rooms carved into rock. Not the sort of family friendly house you would expect in Australia, considering they had a two-year-old. I am not sure how they stop him falling down stairs. They had a table set up for us outside with the most amazing view, but it was deemed too cold so we ended up inside in another cave room, sitting on cushions around a low table. The father of the family, Nazeem, took great pride in showing us the work he had done to his house and the things he has collected to decorate it. Dinner was (I assume cooked by his wife and then) served by Nazeem and his two older children. It started with salad and then burghal soup with lots of bread, and then rice and a chick pea and lamb stew. Dessert was a bowl of grape compote, although the grapes were nearly sultanas. It was light and syrupy and a good end to the meal. We also partook of Nazeem’s very boozy home brew red wine and felt very full and sleepy as we headed back to the hotel.

The next day started early; we heard the call to prayer a bit after 4 am and then got a wake up call we weren’t expecting at 4.30 am. We managed to doze a little longer and were ready for the bus at 5.15 am, although it was raining and our chances of getting up in a hot air balloon were looking slim. While we were waiting in reception Di heard a noise and we went outside to where one of the ladies from the group was sprawled at the bottom of one of the staircases. She was obviously in a lot of pain and seemed to pass out for a moment. Luckily Jen was awake (the night before we had joked that the day she didn’t get up early to meet the bus would be the day something went wrong) and she called an ambulance, as well as a local friend of hers to go to the hospital with them. They got her foot up on a cushion (they’re good for so many things) and covered her with a blanket and an umbrella. She’d slipped on the steps in the dark as the hotel didn’t have any lights on; I’d been surprised by that as well when we’d left our room. At this point we were cold and a bit worried and ready to go back to bed, but the bus turned up so off we went, minus one. We were taken to an office in town that looked a lot like those rescue centres you see on TV during fires or floods, full of people in outdoor gear looking apprehensive and tired. We were given tea and biscuits and told we were waiting for the wind and rain to die down; apparently it had been fine at 4.30 am when we got our wake up call. Jen had told us that by booking on our first morning we’d be able to go the next day if the weather was bad, but the woman running the company told us they were heavily booked and we shouldn’t get our hopes up. After an hour of waiting (which included being spontaneously serenaded by what I assume was a choir, which seemed very rude at such an early hour) we were herded onto a bus and assumed we were finally going back to bed, but no. The wind had calmed a bit, so we were flying. They took us to one spot that wasn’t quite right, so we ended up in another where they inflated the balloon while we all stood around taking photos. Everywhere you look in Cappadocia there is a great view, so you just keep taking more and more. Finally we climbed into the balloon (4 to a box, 4 boxes) and were shown the landing position in case it got rough (I got to lean back against Toby, which I liked) and then we were off. It was a very strange sensation as you really are just floating, and that’s exactly what it feels like. I was okay while we were close to the ground and the view really was incredible. I could see a balloon so high up they got lost in the clouds and I knew I’d hate that; Toby said he doubted we would go that high, so I tried to relax. I started feeling nervous as we got higher, but I concentrated on the horizon rather than looking straight down, which helped. But then we got higher still, and the clouds closed in beneath us and when I lost my focal point of the horizon, I panicked. It was snowing as well so on top of being tired and well out of my comfort zone, I was freezing. I concentrated on staying calm since there were so many people around who wouldn’t appreciate a screaming girl, but I have never been so glad to see the ground before. The pilot was great and in constant contact with other pilots as well as the trucks on the ground, so once we were further down I relaxed a bit for our final few minutes, although I couldn’t help thinking it was the most expensive panic attack ever. I was relieved when we finally landed (on the trailer of a truck, which I thought was impressive) and happy to guzzle the cherry juice and champagne we were given once we were down. We sang happy birthday to a girl who looked Chinese, spoke with an American accent and was translating for a group of Ukrainians, and had some cake and were given certificates with a picture of a balloon in perfect weather. I’m sure I would have enjoyed the experience more if we hadn’t ended up in snow clouds.

It was the best hot shower ever when we got back. The hotel manager told us the lady who had tripped had broken her leg, which seemed extraordinary given the distance she’d fallen. Jen was still at the hospital with her, but our local guide (a very cute Turkish man called Ali) showed up after breakfast to take us to the Underground City. By this time the weather had cleared up perfectly (of course), so back in the bus for a 40 minute trip to Derinkuyu. The Underground City is where they have excavated cities under Cappadocia dating back to the 6th century BC. They were mainly used to hide from invaders and provided a safe place for early Christians to practise their religion. There were 150 cities housing around 10 000 people, and we saw a tiny part of one. It had a kitchen, stable, storage areas, bedrooms, a church, a meeting hall and of course a winery (of sorts). There were tunnels running through the rooms for ventilation and communication, and rolling stone doors like what you see on old cartoons. In the walls were carved little niches used for lighting with linseed oil, and also for finding your way in the dark when enemies came. Sometimes the tunnels we walked through were large, but they got very low and tight at other times. We ended up about 45 feet underground. The worst part of it was that they don’t control how many people go down at a time, so it got very crowded with guides trying to negotiate their group’s turn up and down the stairs. Just an accident waiting to happen really, as all it would take would be one moron to create a panic, and it would be mayhem.

Luckily we got out alive and back in the bus and about this time I started feeling ill, as though something I ate wasn’t agreeing with me. I tried to ignore it and we drove to Panorama, a spot high on a hill with brilliant views (again). It was quite the tourist trap with lots of little stalls selling all sorts of rubbish, but I bought a coke to try and settle my tummy and Toby got some biscuits since he was starving. Our next stop was the Open Air Museum, an optional activity on the itinerary but everyone wanted to go so Ali agreed to take us along. I was glad we went, even though I was mostly concentrating on not losing the contents of my stomach. The museum is in a place where the early Christians built churches and other rooms right into the rock. Some are decorated with the most beautiful and detailed frescoes, although not all are well preserved since UNESCO and the Turkish government didn’t start caring until the 1980s. It was an incredible piece of Christian history in the heart of an Islamic country.

After the museum, we decided to walk back to town via Love Valley, which Ali said was about 2 kilometres and even though I was feeling pretty rotten at this point, I thought that would be about 30 minutes and I could probably manage. In hindsight I should have not been so keen to avoid a fuss and just asked Ali to get me a taxi then and there. It was kind of pleasant to be out walking in the countryside and to see the rocks we’d seen from the balloons at ground level. We went into Love Valley and I thought we must be nearly back to town, but then Ali said we had to follow the track back to the main road and keep walking. Grrrr. I started to walk back myself as the situation was getting dire. I walked very, very slowly and it was just getting ridiculous with Di having to hold my hand as I went through awful spasms and tried not to think about how humiliating this was about to get, so Ali ran back to the main road and called the driver of the bus for me. He wasn’t answering his phone and Ali asked if I wanted to go to the hospital; I said I’d be happy with a bathroom and he smiled knowingly. Joy of joys, the driver turned up very quickly and we were back at the hotel in no time, where I wanted to give Ali a big hug but I was in a rush so instead I left Toby to give him a good tip. I took some drugs Di had and went to bed for two hours, both of which worked a treat and I was ready to meet the group for dinner, although still a bit wobbly and fragile. It was weird being around 12 people who knew all about my digestive problems, but being experience travellers (not to mention grown ups) everyone was very understanding and really when I thought about the lady in hospital, it seemed very minor. Di and Jen bought me some mint tea and fresh mint on their visit to the lady in hospital, so I had that as well and then we went to a terrace bar for a drink where we toasted the broken leg’s owner and enjoyed sunset over the white hills. After a drink Toby and I went to a restaurant in the village with the other couples from the group (not on purpose, it just worked out that way). It was quite touristy but I loved it for the cushions, the artwork and the old guy playing a Turkish sitar (had a different name which I forget now) right beside us. I just had water and bites of everyone else’s food, but it was still a great evening especially when another guy with a drum joined the sitar player, and then the waiter sat down with some spoons and the three of them just went off. It was great; a good end to an otherwise emotional day.

Days 1-3: Istanbul

I must first apologise for the length of the following posts for our trip from Turkey...I kept a detailed journal for most of the trip, wanting to be able to remember everything. And now, everyone can remember everything. It also means I have no time to include photos but in any case, we have over 500 with which to bore everyone to tears when we are back in Oz.

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We had an early start (4.15am taxi to the airport) and an uneventful flight to Amsterdam, and then another one to Istanbul. There were some lovely views over the Alps as we passed Salzberg, no singing nuns to be seen unfortunately. We had a long wait at customs; there were lots of people who had walked straight past the office with VISA written out the front, and a list of nationalities that needed one, and then had to back-track which added to our time. But our luggage arrived safely and we easily met our driver. Ever since I’ve been flying, I have wanted to come out into the arrivals hall and see my name on a little sign, and this time it happened, except it wasn’t my name exactly. We were being driven to our hotel with another lady on our tour, who was from Glasgow. The driver took our bags and hurried us out of the airport to a van, well two vans parked next to each other. One was plain white and the other was orange with NAKED TOUR painted on the side. Luckily we got into the plain white van and were hurtled into the city. The first things I noticed were all the trees and public spaces, especially children’s playgrounds, and lots of Turkish flags flying from windows and balconies on apartment buildings that looked rather poor and run-down. There were groups of men working in parks and flower beds; the whole city I found has a sense of urgency about it, everyone is doing something. The streets around our hotel, which was located just behind the Blue Mosque in Sultanahmet, were crazy, very narrow cobbled stones streets with steep hills, and lots of tourists and honking of horns. There were shops selling hats and rugs and jewellery, with men standing outside smoking and yelling at each other. Around our hotel, there were a lot of crumbling stone walls and wooden buildings that had seen better days; the one on the corner up the hill was missing a top floor. It looked like a fire had destroyed it. Across the street was a building that looked derelict and abandoned, but later we noticed washing hanging from the line so I suppose someone must have lived there. It was a strange place; the whole street felt like one big flammable accident waiting to happen.

The hotel was lovely except they had lost Di’s booking; she ended up being put in what we assumed was the spare room, in the basement by the breakfast area. Better than nothing I suppose. After we settled in we went out in hunt of an ATM and some food, once we realised the driver had hurried us so much in the airport we hadn’t had a chance to stock up on lira. It was a long walk to find an ATM and when we finally did we were so hungry we went to the first café we found, which had a bain marie in the front window full of decent looking food. The man ushered us in and told us to tell the other man what we wanted piled on our plate; we had a bad feeling this would come back to haunt us and it did. The food was very edible although nothing special, but when the bill came we were horrified to discover we had just spent 60 lira on 3 plates of food and some water. Ouch. We walked around a bit more; the area around the Blue Mosque was incredibly crowded and I couldn’t understand where so many people had come from. There were a lot of Aussies who I assume had come up from Gallipoli as it was the day after Anzac Day; I am sad to say they weren’t exactly doing us proud, although there was nothing particularly wrong with their behaviour. After our wonder we went back to the hotel for a rest and then went for another walk down along the waterfront, although it started to rain and I had a general sense of uneasiness, probably to do with the crumbling shells of buildings and piles of rubbish being picked over by feral cats. On our way back to the streets near the hotel we stumbled onto a small bazaar where there were still some shops open, so we had a look at rugs and jewellery and pretty things before sitting down for dinner at a café where the waiter had earlier tried to point us in the direction of the ATMs (not his fault we got lost). Toby had a mixed kebab (Turkish version of a mixed grill) and Di and I both had a delicious lentil and mint soup since we were still full from our late lunch. We got some bread (you always get bread in Turkey) and also some free hummus, which ended up being the only hummus we ate the whole time, but it was chunky and garlicky and very tasty. The whole meal cost us half as much as our lunch had, and I ended the day feeling clean and well-fed and less overwhelmed than before.

I had a restless sleep that night; there was a lot of street noise and the hotel only provided one small, thin blanket between the two of us. And of course there was our introduction to the early morning prayer call from the Blue Mosque about 50 metres away, which you never quite got used to. We had breakfast at the hotel, which had a small selection of Western items (cereal, boiled eggs, bread to toast) as well as Turkish (sliced tomato, cucumber, olives and cheese) and then went for a walk through the Blue Mosque courtyard and then up the main road to the Grand Bazaar (which was closed, being Sunday) and then down the hill again to the water. On our way down to the water we passed a baklava and Turkish delight shop and stopped to look from the outside. As usual, a man from inside came out to tempt us with all his salesman flair; he tried to convince Toby that the two of us were having an affair and Toby had now caught us out. He asked us our names and Di said, ‘Well what’s your name?’ to which he replied, ‘I am Mr Delicious.’ We did buy some of his baklava (just two pieces, not a kilo which is how they are priced) and it was delicious, very flaky and fresh, and every time we passed his shop we would say there’s Mr Delicious. He was one of the less intimidating shop owners we came across; I never quite got used to being yelled at by strangers in the street who wanted me to look at their rugs/jewellery/baklava/spices/scarves. They always ask where you are from, and when Di said ‘Australia’ to one, he then asked if we were from Wagga Wagga. We burst out laughing; he tried to tell us why Wagga is famous in Turkey but none of us were paying any attention as we were just trying to run away. For lunch we went to a restaurant behind the hotel which was mentioned in the Lonely Planet; I ordered a bean soup which ended up being just a runny version of baked beans, which I guess is where the idea for baked beans came from. The bread in that place was like the Turkish bread we are used to in Australia, but without the doughy middle; just the crisp seed-covered outside. Yummy.

At 1pm that afternoon we met our tour group for the first time, in the breakfast room at our hotel. Our leader’s name was Jen, a young woman from Australia, Condobolin to be exact. There were 12 of us, 3 couples and 6 single women. All the couples were Australian and 3 of the single women were too; the other 3 were English, Scottish and American. I was almost certainly the youngest of the group. We had to fill in lots of forms with our insurance and next of kin details and medical information and then Jen sat down and talked to us for a while about her experience working in Turkey and things to know about the country, practical things like drinking water, squat toilets, avoiding shopkeepers, and the price of beer. After the meeting Jen walked us to Aya Sofya, the big mosque across the road from the Blue Mosque although it no longer operates as such and has been a museum since the 1930s. From the outside Aya Sofya is not as beautiful as the Blue Mosque; it is somewhat lopsided and the colours aren’t as nice. But inside it was an immense and impressive space, despite the (permanent) scaffolding holding up the ceiling and the huge crowds. It took my breath away. The number of people and the fact it hasn’t been a place of worship for so long meant it didn’t really have the peaceful feeling I normally feel in those places, but still it was a fantastic place to wander, especially upstairs where they had found frescoes beneath the wall paint (the Muslims had just painted over the earlier Christian paintings). They were really incredible.

We met up with the group outside the main gate, and bought some of the doughy pretzel-type things called simits (although we didn’t know that at the time). Jen took us on a walk through some narrow back streets to show us some other parts of Istanbul tourists normally miss, to visit Kocuk Aya Sofya (I think that means ‘small’ as it was based on the original) which she said was her favourite mosque in Istanbul. Once inside I could definitely see why; it was an incredibly clean, serene space. Toby put it well when he said it felt holy. It was all done in blue and white, and full of natural light. Having a scarf over my hair and no shoes on added to that hushed, awed feeling I felt there. It was lovely and I felt rejuvenated from the crowds and grot we’d been around in other parts of Istanbul. After the mosque we went to a local café which was just how would picture a Turkish café, as it was all dark and full of wooden tables with nargile and backgammon on them, and carpets hanging on the walls. It was rather cavernous but opened out in the back to a wonderful 180-degree view of the Sea of Marmara. The whole back of the café was open, which made the sweet-smelling nargile smoke easier to bear. We sat in a little private area and had hot drinks, and then Jen put us all on a tram to visit another mosque, Rustem Pasa. This one was entered via a stone staircase in a courtyard, which would have made it easy to miss if we weren’t with someone who knew the way. The Rustem is famous for its mosaic tiles, which were beautifully intricate, but it still didn’t have the same serenity as Kocuk Aya Sofya. Like in Japan with their temples, I can see that you would easily overdoes on mosques so it was good we only had one more to do.

After the Rustem Jen took us for dinner at a local kebab place where we ate cheap kebabs and bread (again) and then we walked back to our hotel via Mr Delicious, who waved at us through his shop window. Not sure if he actually remembered us, but it’s his job to be friendly.

Our final day in Istanbul started with a visit to the Blue Mosque, where my experience was ruined by the number of women without scarves and the number of people wearing shorts. It seemed so thoughtless and disrespectful. It was not hard to follow the mosque’s requests for appropriate clothing; they even had head scarves for women to borrow. I was particularly annoyed by three young guys wearing boardies (I assume they were Australian, shame on them) and an entire tour group of Japanese ladies without head scarves, which bothered me because of the rules they have in Japan for entering temples. It made me understand why so many mosques don’t open to tourists. The building itself was beautiful though. There was a women’s section at the back; during her morning talk about Islam Jen had told us that was because men couldn’t be trusted to not get distracted by women bending over during prayers, but why they felt the need for an actual wooden partition so women can’t see, I’m not sure.

After the Blue Mosque we went to the Grand Bazaar, via a cemetery full of relatively important people where Jen talked a bit about Muslim funeral customs. Some of us agreed that the lack of autopsies was probably a positive thing; you accept that the death was God’s will, and move on. No dwelling on the why or the how, which often seems such a devastating aspect to grief. The Grand Bazaar was mercifully uncrowded. We only did one corridor; Jen set us loose at one end and said she would see us at the other end in 10 minutes. There are apparently over 4000 shops spread across the maze so we planned to go back another time. There were lots of men standing outside their shops, yelling at customers and each other. I saw one well-dressed guy filing his nails as he leaned against his shop window. The men in Istanbul were quite fashionable and there is a lot of guy love (kissing of cheeks, linking of arms), although at first I kept thinking I was seeing a lot of open gay couples. Interesting.

From the Bazaar we walked down to Topkapi Palace, where it took ages to get in through security. Our first stop was the harem (which means ‘private’ or ‘forbidden’ and only refers to the area where the family lived away from prying eyes; it has less to do with multitudes of naked women peeling grapes), which blew me away. I think partly I was amazed because it was gorgeous, and partly because you got a sense of what it would be like to live there. After the harem we needed some lunch; there was only one place to eat at the Palace and although the view over the water was lovely the food was exceedingly ordinary and outrageously overpriced. There was also a 15 minute wait for the ladies’ toilet. We saw a couple more rooms of the Palace (which was really a group of buildings scattered through several courtyards and gardens), including a ‘treasures’ section full of stuff supposedly belonging to prophets (like Abraham’s turban, David’s sword, Moses’ stick, Mohammed’s tooth) but it was so unbearably crowded I had to skip most of it. I was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of stuff and number of people. There are only so many intricate mosaics and beautiful rooms you can look at before it all starts feeling repetitive. The three of us agreed we’d had enough of the Palace, so Di went to spend the afternoon with a couple of other ladies from the tour group while Toby and I visited the Basilica Cistern.

The Cistern was amazing, and I imagine it’s one of the most unique things I will ever see. It is essentially an ancient water storage facility, and I’m sure the 6th century bureaucrats and engineers and workmen who put it together would be flummoxed by the idea of tourists paying to go and see it, but it really is brilliant. Horror movie material. They have coloured lights playing in the water and music on, so they have worked hard to make it as interesting as possible. After the Cistern we headed back to the hotel via a mini market that was the miniest market ever: no bread, no fruit, nothing. Not sure what the point of the market was, although they did sell flour to make bread. We bought water and half a dozen muesli bars to stock up for the train trip, and then went to Starbucks so Toby could have internet time and I could have journal time in a smoke-free environment. (Yes, we go to Starbucks when we are in foreign countries; but sometimes all you want is a cup of tea, minus the cigarette smoke. So shoot us.) We went to the spice bazaar once we were feeling refreshed, although the rain and number of people just got on my nerves so it wasn’t the best experience. I did love the neat pyramids of powdered spices, and the hanging herbs and blocks of Turkish delight with pistachios embedded in them. We didn’t try anything as we didn’t want the pressure to buy, but it was an interesting thing to see.

We had an early dinner at the same kebab place Jen had taken us to the night before, since we were in the area and knew it was cheap and edible. Back at the hotel, the group re-joined and we were loaded into a mini van and driven across the bridge to the ferry terminal. It took about 20 minutes for the ferry to get to the train station, which I spent not thinking about all the ferry disasters in Turkey you hear on the news. It was a nice way to see the lights of Istanbul though. We had a long wait at the train station, but I guess when you are transporting 12 people you need to make allowances in case something comes up. We had a good local beer in the restaurant at the station while we were waiting, and learnt how to say ‘cheers’. All our luggage was piled along a wall and at one point a homeless lady came over and started pulling out the bags that were in a particular corner so she could set up her bed for the night. She had a careful routine for getting ready, including putting her scarf on. Although Istanbul clearly had plenty of poor people, it was the first sign I’d seen of actual homelessness; everyone else on the street was always busy and working, trying to sell something even if it was only to stand on their scales and pay for the privilege.

The train was quite nice and new; our cabin had 2 bunk beds and a wash basin, plus a fridge with free chocolate. Mmmm. We spent the first hour of the trip in the dining car, drinking beer and playing magnetic Scrabble with a couple of our fellow Aussies (I won), before retiring to our cabin. I didn’t sleep well and wished I brought ear also didn’t sleep well but he put it down to the cigarette smoke coming through the vents in the ceiling onto his face. Yuck. We ended up sharing a single bunk, and amazingly we both slept better after that.