My Second Day in Istanbul

I was up early and off to my breakfast appointment with the rug merchant and his brother the ceramics seller.  They were actually quite pleasant people, with a small empire in the making.  The family also had a shop that sold hand bags, a spice and candy shop, a hotel, and a tourism company.  I know they got the better of me in every deal, but I am, after all, a country boy from Puyallup, Washington.  I expect to be taken in the market place of Istanbul.

Here is what we were dickering over:

The opening bid was $3400.  I paid $1,800, which was probably $500 to much.  But I got breakfast!  Breakfast was eaten standing around a display case with paper placed on top.  A bag of bread sliced into 2-3 inch slices was opened, and dishes of food were set out.  Three kinds of cheese, two kinds of meat, scrambled eggs, olives, and my favorite, a soft white cheese with honey poured over it.  The cheese was made, I was told, from yogurt, and it was good.  The meal was eaten, as I said, standing, and each of the diners were provided a napkin and a fork.  The fork was used to place foods on the slices of bread, which were the plates/spoons/bowls.  Tea was served in glasses, and afterwards I was also served a Turkish coffee.  Not worth $500, but still fun.

I needed some new riding gloves, as the Icons had worn out already.  I found the BMW dealer, and took a taxi.  Oh. My. Word.  On the way there, the driver took me along the Golden Horn, then over it, then onto the freeway, then off the freeway, then into some neighborhoods, then back on the freeway, then down a longish hill, around the corner, and there we were.  A half hour drive through history, and a driving lesson as well.  I was able to see old city walls, new apartments, neighborhoods away from the old city, and parks.  Lots of parks.

But that driver was short shifting, nosing his way around other cars, getting into places I wouldn't take a scooter, and blowing the horn like a mad man.  I wonder how many horn relays he goes through in a year.  I just couldn't watch what he was doing, I had to look out the side windows.  And hold on.  I cramped my hand pretty severely holding on.  When we got to the security gate at the BMW dealership, I was very relieved.  But the price on the meter was only 20 cents more than he said it would be.  I escaped with my life and into the sanctuary of Istanbul's BMW/Land Rover/Mini dealership.  I was like walking into a boutique on Rodeo Drive.

Two Italian models were at the reception desk.  Okay, maybe they weren't Italian, and maybe they weren't models, but they looked and sounded like it.  I had the name written down of the guy I was supposed to speak too, but they had never heard of him.  Turns out I had come in the wrong door.  Motorcycles were at the far end of the esplanade that separated the indoor cafe from the showroom floor.  So I sauntered down the esplanade to the motorcycle section, where a young woman, surely the prom queen at her high school, knew exactly who I was looking for, and spoke English as well.  With her help, I got my gloves, a coffee at the cafe, and a taxi as well.  Nice people there, and an elegant place to buy stuff.

On the way back, the driver took me by a different route, so I was able to see more of Istanbul that I would not have seen.  Including a secret taxi only street that was supposed to be a short cut but wasn't, and a Turkish traffic jam.  Turkish traffic jams are caused by people parking or stopping in the middle of the street to chat, or deliver goods, or run an errand.  They usually don't last long, but they get noisy when the take drivers start blowing their horns.  After several minutes of that, it all starts moving again.  I never saw anyone get really mad, but I'm sure they must.  Regardless, no one moves until the person in front puts it in gear and goes.

BY the time I got back to old town, it was well past noon, so I decided to wander and see if I could get into any of the attractions.  I was looking for AAA lithium batteries, particularly, and I never did find any.  I did, however, slip into Starbucks for a sandwich (tuna?) and an iced vanilla latte.  May I say that they do not follow the same recipe in Turkey as they do in the USA?  Regardless, I took them out to a table by the sidewalk to watch the parade.  While sitting there it was really like being at the tri-county fair.  Kids dressed as caliphs and princesses, women wearing gold lame boots (that shouldn't have), harem pants, harem tops, people of all ages, shapes, sizes, nationalities, chadors (but no burqas), just everything.  It was fun to watch the revolving sign across the street next door to MacDonald's advertising fish pedicures, too.  I should have gotten one.  That would have freaked them out.  But the waxed ears was my limit of man-scaping for the Istanbul portion of the trip.

The lines were long and slow moving at the Basilica Cistern, so I kept on moving through the crowds, just watching.  I did sit for a spell, but became tired of the constant need to say "No" to hawkers and shills.  I think for my next trip I am going to learn to say "Unclean! Unclean!" in Turkish and shout that as I sit.  I wonder if that will help.

I like Istanbul's Old City.  There are many little pockets of shops and restaurants where things are slower paced.  You just have to go strolling to find them.  I found a few, I'm sure there are many, many more.  I know I didn't spend any time touring on the Golden Horn or the Bosphorus, and next time maybe I will.  I did, however, enjoy myself.