Last days in the 'bul

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The last days in Istanbul were spent partially laid up with a twisted ankle which was interesting, seeing as still had miles to go before I went home! I twisted it in the harem in Topkapi palace, maybe overcome with the feelings of claustrophobia in the narrow marble corridors listening for the sounds of the sultan in his silver slippers...

I could feel the souls of the trapped women, although it is true that many wanted to be there and were sold voluntarily by their parents with the wish that they could end up in the Topkapi Serail - the pinnacle a girl could hope for!

Just before I fell there was an old lady who slipped on the terrace looking over the Golden Horn. Poor thing she cracked her head open and had to be carried off in a stretcher. I had the feeling that it was not the first time there was blood on the marble there. Women were often disposed of by throwing their bodies into the fast moving Bosphorus, hider of many sins.

My favourite room in the palace was the library open and airy with dais round a dome where I could imagine lying with my books. I managed to have a couple of minutes there on my own with just a guard for company and could just be.

The rest was stunning in gardens of cedar and rose, but the place was packed with tour groups, and after a certain point I had had my fill of shuffling past jewels. The collection of Ming porcelein was outstanding in the sheer number of pieces laid out in the old kitchens where they would have been used. Some of them were huge and you could only imagine that if they took the Silk route how they would have transported them on camels.

But through my twisted ankle I met up with two French guys and hung out for an evening, hobbling up Istliklal after supper on Sofyali. Turkey had won against Czech Republic and we were going to see the party... And party it was the square was a sea of red, and enough flagwaving nationalism to start a revolution. The men were dancing traditional steps stepping past each other with much foot stamping and abandon... to people playing the pipes

Later we found a backstreet bar off Istiklal with a band and singer, there were parties everywhere. We sat in a corner and smoked shisha... my first in the city.

Street sellers selling flags with Ataturk devils horns in red and white, however the guy who was selling balloons with dolls in looked like he drew the short straw when they were choosing what would pull in the punters!

And then then two days later off to Tehran, Iran.

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Photos

Blue and white dish, Yuan dynasty, 14th century
From the kitchens

Inside the kitchens, Topkapi
You can see the Iznik tiles