Final day of my Turkey trip - sun is shining!!

At least when I draw back the curtains the sky is dotted with some pretty, scudding, innocent white clouds in an essentially blue background.  I felt instantly more enthused about this final day.
I started with walking over the Galata bridge to the old city side of the European section of Istanbul and meandered my way via Gulhane Park to the Archaeological Museums, which are situation just near to the Tophane Palace.  En route a poster for a photography exhibit caught my eye, and I ventured in to a building in what seemed to be an abandoned yard.
I found about 12 enlarged photos around a space empty but for sand (very annoying to walk on) with a few candle holders under each one with live candles guttering in the draught.
I wasn't impressed with the 'works' which seemed to be somewhat unfocussed and deliberately blurred pictures of either camels or horses with the occasional tree or bush.
Leaving I discovered that the photographer was a prince from one of the Emirates.  I'd better bite  my tongue.
Anyway, the Archaeological museums were a good antedote to that experience, being set up by the artist whose work I encountered at the Pera museum the other day, Osman Hamdi Bey.  A good part is under renovation but there's still a great deal to see.  The biggest plus is that everyone overlooks this in favour of rushing to the Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque.  This museum is quieter by far, away from the crowds, ignored by the Cruise ship day trippers, and consequently, far more pleasant.  It's actually 3 buildings and a garden, with a pleasant cafe under the trees.  First place is focussed on finds from the Ancient Orient, including processional panels from the entry to Babylon, the fabled Ishtar Gate.

Then there's a very pretty building, the tiled Pavilion, full of ceramic finds and - yes, you guessed it - tiles!

Finally, the more traditional selection which is about Istanbul through the ages, plus some information on the countries bordering - syria, palestine/israel, lebanon etc.

One interesting thing is to discover that the name Bosphorus means exactly the same thing as Oxford....

Time to move on to another less visited site - the Hagia Irene, a byzantine 4th century church no longer in use as a church.  Interesting because unlike almost every other building after the Ottomans took power, it was not converted into a mosque.  It is therefore pretty much as it was in shape and decoration - and being an early example, quite simple in style.

After wandering down among the smaller streets near the Blue mosque, deciding again the queue to enter the latter, and having a lunch of bread, soup and aubergine, I crossed the Hippodrome area to the Museum of Turkish and Islamic art.

The museums haven't quite got the hang of salesmanship, which is quite sweet in its way, showing that commercialism hasn't topped their motivational list.  The shop here is tucked down in a corner, and could really be making a fortune if they stocked more things, and there are plenty of appropriate goods of quality they could sell.  

Anyway, all to the good, since I bought nothing and was ready to stretch my legs in the direction of the Egyptian Bazaar to return to the shop which Nahide had introduced us to on Friday last, and where I had been sorely tempted by a cashmere shawl.   I knew that if I entered the shop, I would probably buy, so it was really a decision made by the act of going.  It was the nicest quality thing I had seen anywhere in the country in the cashmere line, and made much of the other things look nasty by comparison - a shame, actually, since many are very pretty.  I don't mind paying a fair price.  The thing that upsets me and anyone else buying goods, is to be charged as if something is higher quality than it is - eg, saying it's wool or silk when it's just polyester or viscose.

I chatted quite a while with Nelly, about Turkey, her family, etc, over some apple tea which was procured by her standing in the doorway of the shop and shouting for it.  As is the way here, shortly afterwards a man appeared with a little tray bearing our drinks.  The tray has supports ending in a single point above so that it can be held with one hand.  I have never seen a spillage or breakage, and this system is used in all the markets.  

Shortly afterwards I emerged, poorer, with TWO shawls, one green cashmere with handstitched patterning, and one in silk blues.  Lovely stuff. 

Nelly and one of the Syrian owners of Maison d'Alep in the shop

And so, I walked back to Galata over the bridge.    Quite a satisfying and full day to finish with.  Now all I had to do was to pack it away.  

Hmm.  Somehow that was going to be interesting given that I had bought a few things to go in a case that was fairly snuggly packed to start with....

I decided to fill my backpack with all my clothes and put that in the hold....

Home tomorrow.

best laid plans etc

Well, the Fates had it in their minds to toy with me today.
I awoke early, 6.15am, which would have been great if there was any good light, but no!  It was drizzling and grey, flat.  I went back to bed and slept in until 10am.
By the time I left the hotel, I had a plan to go to Kadikoy to what was meant to be a good local market, very large, only on Tuesdays.
I walked just a few minutes to catch a ferry from the Galata side, so far - so good...Sadly the drizzle was steadily falling, and the light was that awful, bright, flat grey that blows out anything, by tricking the poor old sensor into thinking it's looking at something super bright, and it then underexposes everything else.  Nightmare.  Anyway, it was pleasant to be on the ferry, watching the clouds drifting over the city, obscuring farther off areas, and putting some dampness into the air, so that I was glad of my 'buff' and raincoat hood.

At Kadikoy I set off towards the market, but after a while thought I should check my direction.  Twice I was sent to a supermarket ('big market') which I thought was odd, but eventually found an english speaker who explained, regretfully, that the Tuesday Kadikoy market was no longer in Kadikoy, but had been moved about 3 miles away to another suburb.
Well, I really couldn't be bothered...
So I stuck around the area, exploring little lanes with various other, more modest market stalls, little shops, cafes, etc etc.

There were a few tourists, mostly French or Scandinavian, but it was really just a neighbourhood suburb.  I stopped at Lokanta Ciya for lunch.  This place has a visionary chef who collects ancient recipes especially from Anatolia, and focusses on poor people's food - on the basis that need drives creativity.  I had a little pie which was filo dough crust in a pot, and you cut it open to find rice with raisins, almonds, nuts and chicken pieces.  That was delicious!

Eventually I became wet and fed up, so I beat a retreat and got the ferry back to the European side.  Shame, since if it was dry I would have done some more things, but there didn't seem any point in something like a nostalgia tram ride when you can't see much.  Viewpoints similarly not very appealing.

So I'm back in my quarters, it's 5pm, and I'm hoping weather will improve tomorrow.

Great Turkish Food!

I had booked a 'Flavours of the Old City culinary tour' with Istanbul Tour Studio.  This was meant to be a group tour, but it was just me!  I went first to the Kilic Ali Pasha Mosque since I arrived early at our meeting point in front of the entrance, by the Tophane tram stop.  It was empty and was the last building designed by Master Sinan, the great architect, when he was about 90 years old.  It ressembles a mini Hagia Sophia, according to the book "Strolling through Istanbul".  That book has anecdotes and bits of fascinating information, for example:   Ali was an Italian convert to Islam, and rendered noteably outstanding service to the Ottomans at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571.  That fight was  a complete disaster.  Kilic means the Sword, and Ali became the Lord High Admiral afterwards. Selim II granted him permission to build his mosque, BUT his Grand Vizier at the time was Rustem Pasha (he of the Iznik tiled mosque near the Spice Market) and Rustem Pasha and Kilic Ali Pasha shared a mutual loathing.  He was responsible for carrying out the Sultan's orders, and out of spite, he told Kilic Ali to build it on the sea (as he was an Admiral)...hmm.   Petty, no?  Kilic Ali Pasha was no pushover, and therefore set about reclaiming the land from the water's edge, and put his building there, in the sea....

Anyway, on to my tour....Fortunately it was a lovely, bright day, sunny but not too warm.
My guide was Betul Basak, a lovely lady.  We ended up having a really fun and relaxed day together, like having a girlfriend to chat with....and because I had her undivided attention, I could focus on what I was interested in, plus happily, she was prepared to share her views.  We discussed the Turkish political situation, the religious atmosphere, the education structure, etc etc.  Very rewarding!  We also went to some kitchen equipment stores to let her look for items for her new apartment which she moved to a week ago!
First we did Turkish breakfast.  Yes, I know, I've been eating breakfast in Turkey for more than 2 weeks.  We kicked off by dropping by an artisan bakery with a small frontage in the increasingly fashionable district of karakoy by the sea, on the bosphorus side of the galata bridge.

For centuries it was a loading area for the docks, shipping businesses, warehousing etc.  Gradually this is becoming a neighbourhood of cute coffee houses, cafes, restaurants, art showcases, artisan workshops, and hotels are being made out of converted factories and warehouses.  It still retains some old atmosphere of a place in transition.
We then took our simits back to an outdoor cafe, the Asma Alti, and settled for a chat.  In Turkish the word for breakfast means 'before coffee'...'kahvalti'.  Bet you didn't know that!
There were two dishes I had not had before:  one ressembled huevos revueltos from mexico, but without chillies and peppers, and much finer in texture;  the other was fried eggs with slices of sujuk, which is a turkish pepperoni.

Betul and Bahadir, guides from Istanbul Tour studio

In the interests of health, we didn't eat too much of this, knowing that there was more ahead.  We also walked around the area exploring before our next stop at Karakoy Gulluoglu, which is in fact the original shop of the baklava shop we visited in Bursa.  We tasted and wrapped the other parts of the portion.  It's very popular.  Turks really like the sweet stuff...

On over the Galata bridge to the Spice market and again, yes I have been before.  This time, we stopped and chatted with the storeholders that Betul knows, from whom she buys her favourite ingredients:  olives, cheese, pickles, dried vegetables....

And on to see coffee beans being ground at the little shop Kurukahveci Nuri Toplar:  this only happens at the start of the week, so I was lucky to see them roasting and grinding.  The smell was amazing!

Betul with the New Mosque

We then spent a while drinking various teas and tasting (tiny) amounts of nuts, and turkish delight, and discussing the serious business of pomegranate syrup and saffron, in a shop which I can recommend in the covered section, 'No. 76'  Helal Baharat Spice Centre.  The charming and unpushy Sabit was our server, and it really was an insight into what is an integral part of middle eastern culture, and the business of doing business.  The people who harass you and try to get you into their shops are one less appealing face of this culture.  When it is done with grace and calm, it is much more palatable to the western customer.  I certainly back right off if I am attracting too much attention.  

Farewell then, to the Spice market, with its multiple stalls where you can buy just about anything, and on to a tram heading over the Galata bridge and along to Kabatas to catch the funicular to Taksim Square.  The public transport system here in Istanbul is really very efficient, and noticeably modern and very clean and graffiti free.  And while on that subject, there is a real lack of litter and pride in the cleanliness of the streets, certainly around the central part of the city.  

Once in Taksim square, hearing the story of the demonstrations two years ago - which started in a local movement to stop President Erdogan from paving over the little Taksim park and building a shopping mall and mosque (to be called the Erdogan mosque, naturally)....he had to shelve the plans, but sadly 10 people were killed...

we pressed on to lunch, one of the point and eat places: 

we shared a couple of things I hadn't had before including some of the local speciality using anchovies, and something that looked like an omelette.  Very tasty.  

By now feeling very happy that we are doing a lot of walking....

on to our final location, a turkish coffee house, the Manda Batmaz, which nestles down one of the many passageways off the main Istiklal Avenue.  

the coffee is thick, chocolatey in taste, and you only get half a cup as the bottom is grounds and mustn't be tasted, unless you like a mouthful of bitter thick goop.

Goodbye then to Betul who was a fabulous guide, and great fun too.

I decided to hang around up in the Galata area, a bit of shopping for scarves, checking out the pestemal towels, learning about the different qualities etc, generally tramping about before queueing to ascend the Galata Tower for the view at the final hour before sunset.  Well, it wasn't much of a sunset but the views are great:

Another very full day!  

All on my own in the Big Big City!

Ok, all of you out there know that being on my own is no problem for me and at times is my preferred state of being.  So this morning when I woke up and saw that it was moodily overcast, I threw all my earlier plans out of the window and started fresh.  With breakfast, which was, as our experiences of Turkish breakfasts in all hotels, very fresh and delicious.  Scrambled eggs made to order, bread rolls called achma imagine overgrown challah donuts/bagels (with the hole); good coffee; tomatoes, cucumber and yoghurt.  And no rush!  I had a good look at the Time Out which was in my bedroom at the Blue House Hotel, and decided to hit some art galleries/museums.
My first effort failed since the Jewish Museum which celebrates 500 years since the Jews were invited to Turkey after the expulsion from Spain, is moving from its current location (which would have been very convenient as it was behind my hotel) to the Neve Shalom synagogue and is not yet open.
Plan two, go just a few yards up the street (since by now it is really pouring down) to SALT which is a new initiative by the Garanti Bank to create an institution which will be a centre for innovation.  It would include art space, research facilities and conference space, and modern areas for art, and is in another location also.
The street is called Bankalar Cadesi, being, as the word suggests, the street of banks.  This has been a key business district for decades.  The hotel, The Vault Karakoy, was a bank.  The basement of the SALT building was also a bank, and indeed contains the Museum of the Ottoman Bank.  It doesn't sound too promising, does it?  Not really my cup of tea.
Well, it's amazing what you do when you are a) on the spot and b) slightly reluctant to leave the building as it's raining....
First there was an exhibition called 'How did we get here?' which was mostly in turkish, so I headed for the Robinson Crusoe bookshop and picked up Anita Brookner's The Bay of Angels before going to the basement to check out the Ottoman Bank's offering.  This turned out to be a lot more interesting than anyone might guess.  First of all, there is some very impressive paperwork establishing the bank - rights granted by Queen Victoria, seals and all.  Share certificates are also very  splendid!

 The vaults are from England.  The most interesting thing is the social history contained in the records of the bank's employees.  All of them, on joining the ranks of the Ottoman bank, filled out extensive forms which included a photograph, details of nationality and religious affiliation amongst other things.  You can observe the changes in dress as the years roll by, and also the way the senior management dress in more european style, and at the other end, the uniforms are very much Turkish, and in the provinces have local variations....unexpectedly fascinating!

So next?  Well, I decided to try the second oldest underground trains in the world (London was first)!  The Tunel runs from the bottom of the Karakoy up to the beginning of Istiklal Cadesi, which is the principle pedestrian shopping street in the city.  It's actually a funicular, and the journey up the hill only takes about one and a half minutes.  The driver opened his door so that I could have a good view...now that wouldn't happen on the Underground...'ealth and safety'!

I wandered up the Istiklal street, which was heaving with shoppers and people out for a stroll despite the intermittent rain.  There's so much to see, despite the fact that there are lots of chain stores which you would recognise: Zara, Mango, Columbia, Camper etc.  There are the Turkish sweet shops, ice cream (the traditional Turkish kind),  traditional cafes and restaurants and doner kebab shops, and of course, groups of men hanging about smoking and drinking tea or turkish coffee.

This street used to be the grandest avenue where all the embassies of the 19th century were granted land by the Sultans to build their splendid outposts of their country.  While most of them have now moved officially to Ankara, the old buildings remain as consulates.  Many of them have churches and they remain in use.  I popped into a few of them.
St Anthony of Padua - which is a large basilica, the biggest Catholic church in Istanbul.  Its entrance boasts a massive gate, and above it is a gallery of lavish italianate arches, that you might imagine Juliet leaning out from them, to speak to Romeo.  There's a statue of the Polish pope here and photos of the Pope meeting with the leader of the Eastern Orthodox Patriarchy.  Inside was impressive.

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

Inside St Anthony of Padua Catholic Church

Santa Maria Draperis - which is below the street level as Moslem rules didn't allow churches to have a street frontage - and I couldn't get in.
Union Church of Istanbul in the Dutch chapel: this has a long association with the Dutch embassy across the street, and holds services in various languages including African (not sure if that is Afrikaans or what) and Chinese.

Hagia Triada Greek Orthodox Church.  This is off to the side and is actually relatively new, being built on a Greek community cemetery. The caretaker, who evidently wanted to go home for a nap, was persuaded to unlock the doors.  It's quite opulent inside, and one of  the interesting things was the  style of the chairs, which are like bar stools with a back, and not quite such a tall seat.

Well, that was unexpected.  I then had a noodle snack at Tokyo sushi restaurant which I spotted when coming out from the Greek church. It made a change, and in fact reminded me that I really enjoy oriental food - which meant that when I ran across CokCok Thai restaurant at the end of the day, I decided to have Pad Thai!
Between the two meals, I ventured up to Taksim Square avoiding the peace demonstrations which have followed the disaster in Ankara yesterday. (YES, I am being sensible.)  Pouring down by now but not cold, I watched the crowds with their shopping, buying flowers,  and kebabs from the many apparently idential kiosks, all next to eachother. I suppose they must be selling enough or they wouldn't be in business. Taksim is also the top end of what is known as the 'Nostalgia Tram' which runs the length of Istiklal Cadesi (avenue).

Now this is busy....

 Next stop was the old flower market passage (Chichek Pasaji) and the little Avrupa Pasaji, or the Hall of Mirrors which is in a neo-Renaissance style, now full of tourist shops, but quiet compared to the Grand Bazaar, and consequently much more civilised.

British Embassy

My destination was the Pera Museum, which used to be the Bristol Hotel, and is now a fantastic art gallery which shows off the collection gathered by the staggeringly wealthy Koc family. Actually, they are THE wealthiest family and should be described as a dynasty.  The eldest was born at the start of the 20th century and began to trade, building up a network of companies.  If you read about the various members of the family they are hugely well educated and involved in philanthropy as well as business.   There were two interesting exhibitions, one being about the business of coffee drinking as it relates to the production of porcelain in Turkey:

 the other is about Diplomatic Ambassadors and their portrait painters.  Plus a small collection of paintings by Osman Hamdi Bey.  There was also a temporary exhibit of artists' work from Sarajevo which was quite interesting and quirky.

Not a bad day!

One of 1000 places to see before you die....

I didn't get up until nearly 8.30am, which is by far the latest in the last two weeks.  Even the Imam couldn't rouse me from my slumbers, and believe me, they really try hereabouts.  I think they have turned up the volume and extended the call to prayer since my last visit.  It's a competition between three nearby mosques as to who can howl the longest and loudest.
After packing up, paying my bill, and breakfasting, I set off for the Cagaloglu Hammam, which isn't far away, just a few streets past the Basilica Cistern.  This place is listed as the number one hammam and is in the book '1000 places to see before you die'.  Not sure this is true but worth a try!
Being only 10am, it was empty, so I was lavished with attention and not rushed through.  I decided I wanted to be pampered (naturally!) so opted for a triple rubbing down by two attendants.
I was fitted out with a pestemal (towel) and wooden shoes which are the most precarious footware imagineable, so much so that I abandoned them almost at once, being convinced they were an accident waiting to happen.

The central marble plinth is flat in this hammam, unlike the one at Cemberlitas which is where Simon and I went last time.  That one is convex.  It was also very busy that visit, and this time it was empty.  I mean literally, empty, except for me!  So I had the run of the place, lying about on my towel and moving from hot area to hot area, getting hot, sluicing off at one of the basins around the edges of the room using a bronze bowl.  I lay on my back on the central slab and watched the sun move across so that gradually the motes of dust in the air became visible through the sunlight casting through the star shaped windows in the dome.  There is also a huge chandelier hanging over the marble, and the only sounds were of water taps running, or when they were switched off, the occasional drip and plop of water which had condensed on the ceiling and fallen down onto the slab, or with a more metallic ring, onto the chandelier.

Just when I was drifting off, big mamma number one (name of Ushan) came and introduced herself.  She was very kindly and unlike my last experience, treated me with consideration and care, as opposed to making me feel like 'yet another sausage to be put through the grinder'.  Big mamma two appeared, called Phyllis (which is apparently the name of a flower - I asked because it didn't sound like a moslem name, and was assured it is).  The two of them set about me with coarse mitts, giving me a dry scrub massage.  Oh yeah.  

Note:  this whole experience is not for people who do not enjoy being touched, or who are coy or self conscious.  These ladies do not deal well with embarrassment.  They've seen it all before.    

After the dry scrubbing, which removes several layers of dead skin, you are led by the hand to sit by the basin where they douse you down to get those flakes off.  

Back again to the slab, where you lie down by the edge, on your towel, and are then soaped down in the same manner.  Everything is scrubbed and buffed.  Flip over, on your back, on your front, sitting so that arms can be done, in between your toes, nothing is held back.  Sluiced again, by now feeling dazed with relaxation.   But no, you aren't done yet!

This time, it's shampooing time by the basin.  The shampoo smells much more pleasant than the soap, which wasn't exactly UNpleasant, but not as fragrant.  I think it was olive oil based.  

Ok, so now I'm definitely clean as a whistle. 

Now the fun part:  bubble massage.  By means of dipping a cloth that looks like a pillow case into the soapy water and shaking it about then squeezing it from the top downwards, a huge froth of soapy bubbles cascades onto your body and is then used to give you a final massage, just in case any dirt dared to lurk behind.  

For a country with a dominant religion which really doesn't quite know how to deal with women and their sinful, alluring bodies, this hammam experience is remarkably strong on physical enjoyment and indulgence.  Of course it is also a place where women come to be together, to get clean and to relax. They also come to prepare for weddings and to celebrate other special events.

After all that massaging and cleaning, I was given fresh, thick towels and led across the entrance hall (camekan) to my cabin where I had locked my belongings to lie down on the 'couch' where I had moisturiser rubbed in to me from face to toes.  

Finally, a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice was handed to me.  Once dressed,

I spent a while enjoying said juice at one of the tables, feeling renewed, relaxed and very, very clean..

  The rest of the day has been fairly uneventful.  I caught a taxi across to the Galata side, the new part of european istanbul, where I was booked into the rather lovely converted bank, now the Vault Karakoy House Hotel.  My room must be an upgrade, as I am in a terrace room on the fifth floor, with, you guessed it, a small terrace with a table and chairs and a view up the hill to Galata Tower, and down towards the Golden Horn.  I'm relaxing after an exploratory walk up and around the area, which is very steep...  it's also very funky, with lots of coffee shops, clothing boutiques and tourist shops selling pestemal towels and associated articles as well as the usual bits and bobs: scarves, pottery, tea sets, t-shirts etc.  

I have my eye on a falafal bar for supper.

Walked up the hill this time and found the falafal bar again and had a moussaka (which was basically a small portion of fried bits of aubergine, yummy) and a falafal.  Pretty good!  

Galata Tower and surrounds are packed with people, locals and tourists, but a very different vibe to that in the Sultanahmet area.  These streets are serious trendy, but still attracting a student style, so that you see heaps of young people and those who still think young, hanging about, sitting on the steps and the ground, or filling the cafes, smoking, playing music, strumming guitars and chatting.  Like a huge outdoor college scene.  It felt very safe, very busy, lots of families still out and about at 10pm.

The Tower looks impressive at night, even taken on my iphone!