Istanbul

From where I am standing my eyes narrow from the dazzling light reflecting from the sea of Marmora. Turning my head to the left I can see the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn. The score of ugly commercial vessels lying at anchor were moving against the relentless tides, failed to distract from the past glories of this place - this meeting of waters and of 2 great continents with their widely divergent cultures, we are of course in Istanbul.

The most exotic and enduring of our destinations it is also sadly, where this particular journey must end. As usual Jonny has selected our hotel wisely, since it is in easy walking distance of the 4 'must see' places: The Great Bazaar, Aya Sofia, Topkapi Palace and the Blue Mosque, I wont bore you by describing them all in detail.

The atmosphere that most distinguishes Istanbul from all that we have experienced before on this journey is the bustling trade. This city of 14 million souls is a heaving mass of commerce: new produce being delivered up alleyways by hand carts, servants running with trays of tea and coffee to merchants who don't dare leave their shops, incessant but good humoured approaches from shoe shiners, shoe sellers, carpet salesman and even restaurateurs to convince us of their best intentions for our welfare.

And weaving through all of this like a miasma are the complex aromas of the Orient: roasted chestnuts, coffee and a world of spices. The experience cannot of changed in 5 centuries.
For anyone who wants to understand the background to this remarkable country, you could hardly do better than to read "Inside the Seraglio" by John Freely. This wonderful book describes the inner life of the Sultans that ruled over the Ottoman empire for 500 years. At its zenith this Turkish empire extended from the eastern borders of Persia across much of North Africa and the Middle East and to the fringes of Austria.

Absolutely Bazaar

My first experience with a Bazaar was a terrible 80's night club on the waterfront in Bristol called Harpars Bazaar, I was 16 and the experience then was probably not far off the way you feel walking into the Grand Bazaar of Istanbul. Great hordes of people everywhere bustling and jostling to buy things (fortunately not alco-pops or warm larger!) At the busiest time of the day you can't move for the people and the din is overwhelming, the guidebook says that there are between 300,000 and 400,000 visitors here a day!

I have been told that there are at least 4000 shops here, tucked away in a warren of passageways and tiny avenues. An amazing collection of goods adorns each shop front from stunning Turkish carpets, meerschaum pipes, copperware, intricate tiles, leather goods, jewelry as well as the typical Hookah or water pipe.

Every shop master sits outside his shop and accosts you just as you think you have made it clear and is desperate for you to come into his store and see his carpets or whatever, they are so polite and inoffensive that it is sometimes hard to decline, especially when they are offering you a wonderful cup of apple tea.

They are not pushy or intimidating but wonderfully gregarious, you feel that if you smile and respond politely, that, actually you don't have a house/apartment and so nowhere to put a 30m square rug, they seem happy with your rebuttal and let you pass.

One chap accosted Dad and not happy with his answer, that he didn't need to buy anything, immediately replied with "well come in to my shop and buy something you don't need!" The name of the game here is haggling and usually you can get people to come down to well under half price from their printed or starting price, but it may take some time and some deadpan stares. I found getting my cash out to pay and then walking away usually did the trick, as they could never allow you to leave once they saw the colour of your money and so you usually got what you wanted.

The Bazaar dates back from the 15th Century and was the brainchild Mehmed II 'the Conqueror' as a way of ensuring the successful commercial identity of this fabulous region – for me the whole experience of the place was a highlight to this wonderful city.

International Incident - Railway Carriage arrested

It is 3am and we have been ensconced on the Bulgaria/Turkish border for several years, buying visas (with US $) having our passports stamped and greeting an endless parade of border guards and customs officers from both nations. Finally we learn that we must leave our carriage immediately because it has been arrested along with our steward. Both are carted away and we see no more of them. We hope the carriage at least will be allowed its telephone call and has been appraised of its rights in the proper fashion.
No explanation has been given for this extraordinary turn of events, but the rumour running through our newly adopted carriage is that alcohol may have been at the root of all this trouble. However we suspect the unevenness of the tracks was probably a more likely explanation for the rolling about we had been experiencing in the preceding hours. Still, the authorities would have more experience in these matters and should be able to recognise an inebriated railway carriage when they see one.