Advertisement
Blue Mosque
Blue Mosque The train ride was long and we whiled away the first few hours consuming beer and playing cards together with our travelling companions Farah, Justin and Christine. After being told to keep the noise down by others in our sleeper carriage, we pulled down our bunks and tried to make some hay. Our brief efforts of sleep were cut short when we arrived at the Bulgarian border at 3am. We went through the usual rigmorale of passports, customs etc and were shortly back on our way, and attempting to sleep. 20 minustes later we arrived at the Turkish border and this time we had to get off the train to get our visas and passports stamped. However you dress it up, a border crossing at 4am is not a pleasurable experience although Adam somehow convinced the Turkish border officer that he worked for the Carebears giving us something to laugh about - albeit briefly. We sat on the border for a few hours before departing and between then and Istanbul were disturbed again numerous times by train staff requiring to see tickets they had already checked a number of times.
We finally pulled into Istanbul around 11am knackered and, suprise
Sleeper
Sleeper train to Istanbul suprise, in the pouring rain. Justin and Chris already had hostel reservations, so we followed them to the Orient Youth Hostel, who were thankfully able to accomodate us. The hostel is situated in the Sultanahmet district and the view from the rooftop cafe, which incorporates the Bosphorus, the Blue Mosque and the Aiya Sofia Mosque is very impressive. After a breakfast of a very greasy burger and a few chips washed down with a good few cups of tea, we made a break for bed to cash in some of our sleep=debt.
We woke up at 18:00 and wondered out of the hostel to find some food. We were hounded on the street by Hakan, a local restauranteur who served up a very spicy lentil soup followed by a Beyti kebab consisting of lamb wrapped in dough served up with a very generous helping of yoghurt - quite delicious. We returned to the hostel cafe for a few beers before hitting the sack at midnight.
Our first full day in Istanbul started with a reasonably lazy morning which included a scrambled egg breakfast included in the price of the hostel. Sometime after 13:00, we headed out to the
Aiya Sofia
Aiya Sofia Aiya Sofia, a gigantic church cum mosque which dominates the skyline at the heart of the city. We met Mustafa, an old Turkish man who seemed to be foaming at the mouth who coaxed us into a guided tour for 20 Euros. Informative though it was, Mustafa had a very quiet voice and was often hard to hear in the echoing hall of the church. Nonetheless, we spent a good hour looking around and made wishes in the wishing column.
From the Aiya Sofia, we headed accross the park a short distance to the Blue Mosque, which is still used today and is closed during certain times of the day for prayer. the Blue Mosque sits directly accross the park from the Aiya Sofia and the two buildings make an excellent reference point for getting your bearings. There isn't a great deal to see in the Blue Mosque although there is a wonderfully painted ceiling.
On the way back to the hostel, I was conned into getting my trainers buffed up by an old man for 2 pounds and then I fulfilled a long=time ambition - a cut=throat shave. After a month on the road and having not
Blue Mosque1
Blue Mosque1 shaved once, I decided it was time for a slight change so off came the beard togther with a slight trim to the rest of my hair. I can honestly say it is the best and most attentive haircut I have ever had and the old man under whose care I was placed worked so diligently, including burning the hair off my ears with a lighter!
After my trim, we headed to a 300 year old Turkish bath for a bit of relaxation. Expecting it to be similar to those we visited in Budapest, we were in for a real shock. After getting changed, we were ushered through to a hot room where we were told to wait. The heat was pretty intense and it didn't take me long at all to develop a nice sweat. After about 30 minutes I was summoned for my massage. In the centre of the room was a large, round marble table with about 6 men getting pummeled around the edges by big, hairy, half-naked Turkish guys. I was in for a real treat and my masseuse/ abuser took great delight in throwing my body around, contorting it in ways it shouldn't be
Blue Mosque2
Blue Mosque2 contorted and then slapping me about a bit more. Once finished I was led to the side of the room and placed next to a sink, where my tormentor threw scalding hot water over me before scrubbing my head and face with soap, followed by another dousing. A definite experience although I think that walking into the heart of Sunderland with my Newcastle shirt on would have given me a similar beating without having to pay 20 Euros!
In order to recover from this ordeal, we headed back to Hakan's restaurant with Justin, Chris and another American called Brent, where I had Iskimir kebab, minced lamb on bread with another generous dollop of yoghurt, followed by some Baklawa and Turkish apple tea. Still feeling a bit bruised, we decided the best way to recover would be to drink a few beers, easing the pain and allowing for a very good night's sleep.
Our third day in Istabul was spent wandering aimlessly around the Grand Bazaar - Istanbuls's own version of the Metrocentre. The Grand Bazaar is a veritable collection of warrens with countless stalls selling everything from football shirts to turkish delight. After bartering on a few items
Grand Bazaar
Grand Bazaar of tat, we stopped for a quick bite before a bit more aimless meandering.
We returned to the hostel and spent the best part of an hour arranging our onward travel and various tours for the next week from the friendly travel agent in our hostel and then wept for the next hour about the large amount of cash we had just expended. In order to make ourselves feel better, we treated ourselves to a good few beers while watching Arsenal smash Sunderland on the big-screen TV which the Turkish guys in our hostel wheeled out specially for us.
At 22:00, we headed down to the basement bar of the hostel, where we were treated to a free belly-dancing show. The dancer was a stunning young girl dressed in the traditional tassels etc who picked random and unsuspecting victims from the audience to join her on the dance floor. Adam was one of those selected and I have to admit I have never seen him look so scared as she ripped his T-shirt off and tied some bells to his jeans.
Our final day in Istanbul was spent catching up on various odd-jobs. We transferred photos on
Belly Dancing
Adam tries his hand at Belly Dancing to CDs and sent some stuff home from the post office located underneath the main court. The rest of the day was spent writing emails, making phone calls and drinking tea before boarding our night bus to Selcuk at 20:00.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.188s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 16; qc: 73; dbt: 0.0887s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Soph
non-member comment
The Toad
Joel i know you are gonna be gutted that this happened while u were away....the toad has died. i am distraught your trip sounds good, ken keeps tryin to make me print it out so he can read it at work but i am not wasting loads of ink just for that. see you soon keep safe soph aka mousey