On a bike, with our helmets we have bad hair days every day. But what is worse, for us, is if we have a bad food day. Our last day in Greece, first day in Turkey/Istanbul was a bad food day. Breakfast at the Greek hotel was poor. They had a great pool which we profited from but food wasn't on their agenda. Never mind we had eaten very well the night before so we can put up with a poor breakfast. We struggled in Turkey to find a good road side stop and in the end it was a sort of motorway cafe. OK it was cheap but that was all that was going for it.
Our intention was to get into Istanbul as early as we could and visit things. Traffic delayed us and by the time we had got to the hotel, parked and unloaded the bike, checked in and got cleaned up it was 1530 before we went out as tourists. The hotel was just below the Blue Mosque and we walked along the coast around the Golden Horn so we could benefit from the sea breeze and have a drink on the Galata Bridge - a great example of a 'habited' bridge. On our walk there we saw dolphins and from the bridge with our drink we watched the ferries criss crossing the various seas. Extremely pleasant and a touch exotic. We wandered around the bazaar area, smelt the fish bread sandwiches and made our way back to the hotel.
We decided we would go the fish restaurant area, Kumkapi, a cultural and traditional must. NEVER go there. It sets a new depth for pits. A street of restaurants all selling identical meals at identical prices with astronomical prices on the wine. We ate badly. Very badly. We begrudged every Turkish Lire we were obliged to spend. They added up the bill wrong - oh really, how much of an accident was that? And then a mysterious service tax appeared that wasn't a very round percentage of anything. Luckily we had sensed what we were getting ourselves into at the beginning with the ridiculous wine prices and the offer of a 10 Lire reduction when we asked whether they had anything cheaper - yes, us and we don't normally stint on wine - so we just chalked it up to the equivalent of a bad hair day and Paul fumed all the way back to the Hotel. Give us fish and chips on the Golden Mile at Blackpool or Great Yarmouth and we would have felt tons better about it.
The Hotel is super with a dining terrace with views over the sea and the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia. Breakfast was at the same quality level as the views. We lingered.
In a not too stressful day we managed to visit the Blue Mosque, after all it was only a 15 minute walk away - probably twice as long in a taxi - and Hagia Sofia before a nice cafe lunch in a very touristic area where we weren't ripped off or at least didn't feel that we were being. Blue Mosque was magnificent but there was that unfortunate smell of sweaty feet and it wasn't us!. Hagia Sofia was interesting as it was built as a church and then had some minarets added to convert it to a mosque and it is now a museum. The christian iconography was plastered over during the mosque period and is now being revealed during its restoration. So one has both Christian and Islamic iconography literally side by side in the same building. But in a lot of ways that sees to epitomise Turkey. It also had a very interesting, well Paul thought it was, 'official' Tourist tat shop that had some pretty cool metal, fake jewel encrusted Crusader period helmets with ear flaps that Paul envisioned himself wearing when riding out of Istanbul. But we didn't ask the price and it wasn't marked.
We monopolised free help.
Afternoon was the underground cisterns, the Grand Bazaar, the Spice Market and the market areas around the two which were thronged. THRONGED. So much stuff which was basically tat. Can they really sell so many gruesome pairs of jeans, suits, T shirts and knock-off underwear - ladies and mens? Why do you need a row of shops all selling identical belts and nothing else? Or what looked like belt or curtain accessories? Is there something going on here that we don't understand as there was never anybody in the shops and the owners were almost barring entry by sitting outside the shop door on their chair? It wasn't as though the bazaar was full of tourists either as Turks were in the majority. They must be buying this stuff. But there are 15 million people we think in Istanbul and even at a relatively small percentage that is a lot of circumcision best suits for the little boys and shiny ones for their dads. At least we weren't hassled much. Paul struggles with this and it is best that we try and avoid any cultural incidents. So we didn't venture far for our evening meal and ate wonderfully well with stupendous views with the sound of the call to prayer echoing around from all the different Mosques.
A true day off the following day as we visited some Blackheath neighbours/friends in their summer retreat on Buyukada, an island on the Asian side of the Istanbul divide with no petrol driven transport. And apart from get the tram and the ferry there and back we did nothing all day. Oh so tiring.
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