The GBP 220 visa for Iran that we were so excited about receiving
Mosaic at Haghia Sofia
Blue Mosque from Haghia Sofia
Fast and furious nightlife in Beyoglu!
Lamb's intestines. Lovely!Due to the irregular opening times of Consulates in Istanbul, we were forced to remain there until the 23rd May, which, although wonderful, left us chomping at the bit to get back on the bike and make some progress. We didn't want to leave town without our Uzbek visas, so we just had to wait until they were ready for collection.
Strangely enough, collevtion of the Iranian visa was very straightforward once we had turned up at precisely the correct time, and on a day when the consulate is not on holiday. Consulate staff get all Turkish and Iranian holidays- a good life! The Iranian Consulate showed Iranian news which was particularly interested with the UK MPs' expenses scandals and the resignation of Michael Martin. The Uzbek consulate were very friendly, despite opening half an hour late, and they arranged the required Letter of Invitation ("LOI" for those in the know) for free. We just had to remain in Istanbul from Monday until Friday.
The Azeri (Azerbaijan) Immigration authorities have conveniently changed their rules a month ago, and now require an LOI. The little chap in the Consulate told this to us with great relish, expressing his "regret" that as Her Majesty's Government makes it difficult for Azeris to visit the UK, they will also make it difficult for us to visit Azerrbaijan. This seems a great way to inject energy into their tourism trade. The fact that we geve them a 6 month multi entry visa for the same money they will give us a 30 day single entry visa appears to be ignored. This is simply another bit of red tape to jump through, hurrah!
This aside, Istanbul remains arguably my favourite city in Europe. Its star attractions are simply awe inspiring and its atmosphere is addictive.
I still have not visited the Harem in the Topkapi Palace, due to the failure of the ticket printing machine at the critical moment, and we were denied entry despite already having bought a ground entry ticket. I will go there on my next visit! The displays of Chinese porcelain were also sadly not on display which was also really irritating!
The Basilica Cistern was well worth a visit, the grandest and oldest (532 AD) underground water storage tank imaginable, built out of the salvaged columns from ruined classical temples. All the columns are different, and there are even two bases in the shape of Medusa's head, one upside down and the other on its side. They were simply pieces of rubble used to build the water tank!
Haghia Sofia (532AD) is as utterly awe-inspiring not only for its inherent sense of wonder due to its extraordinary age (it was more than 500 years old at the time of the Norman Conquest) but also its simply extraordinary interior. The sense of space inside the enormous dome is mesmerising. It is incredible to think that this was achieved before the invention of the flying butteress, and that the Norman Churches such as Durham Cathedral that were built some centuries later relied on enormous piers that obscured the view of the nave. There are heaps of delicate Christian mosaics that were only awoken from their hibernation under whitewash when Ataturk proclaimed the building to be a museum (Not a church, not a mosque). For me, a visit to Haghia Sofia is the highlight of any trip to Istanbul.
Off the beaten track, we ventured down the banks of the Golden Horn to Fener, home to the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople (now they don't have Haghia Sofia!) The church was adorned in every possible place with lold leaf and icons. As we arrived a choir were milling about chanting the most wonderful sound and we felt very luck to have been there to hear it. We realised they must have been tourists (from Greece?) when, at the end of the chanting they all hastily posed for pictures standing next to various items and exited as quickly as possible- including the priests among them! Perhaps they planted bugs!
I booked a table at Hamdi Restaurant on one night on the balcony which gives a view onto the Golden Horn towards Galata Bridge and over the Bosphoros to Asia. The kebabs are supposedly the best in town, and they were not bad, although they were far outshone by the view, which is the real reason we were there. Out of a very, very large restaurant there were only 6 covers outside, so we felt very pleased with ourselves for having been quite so organised (and lucky) with our reservation.
The Grand Bazaar is an enjoyable excoursion, although having now visited the Souks of Marrakech, I now realise that the haggling banter in Turkey is not quite the same. Store owners will happily turn business away if the customer does not pretty quickly come to the acceptable price, without much charm.
I had noticed what looked like roasted legs of lamb everywhere around Istanbul, and decided it was time one lunchtime to give myself a treat. The meat was sliced, and then chopped into lots of tiny pieces before being put into a bun with some spices. I took a large bite, and was shocked by the aggressively bitter and strong taste the meat had, rather like the flesh around the ribcage of a sardine. On closer inspection, there were loads of little fatty pieces glinting in the smoggy sunlight, and I decided it wasn't wise to continue with this experiment. I suspected that this was the Wrong Sort of offal, that is offal from the Wrong End. A few days later, while having a drink with Tom R (an OR and a friend of Jonny Black's family, I am not going to attempt to spell his surname) I found out that this was Cokorach, sheep's intetines. Lovely.
Shoe polishers are rather a nuicance if one is wearing leather shoes...like docksiders. When they spy you they will chase you down the street, and they will shout out at you that your shoes look grubby and could do with a shine. If I were going to work I imagine they would be quite useful. I don't know why they don't all go to the financial centres rather than the tourist sites. They will walk slowly along the street, and "by mistake" drop one of their brushes for an honest tourist (like me) to pick up and give back. This is a chance for them to corner you for a shoe polish. "Please don't break my heart!" The second time this happened near me I walked past the cham and gave him s smile.
The methods used by Istanbul sellers, and restaurant staff to drum up business are quite extraordinary and rather tiring. Each restaurant you pass will speak to you in English, pleading for your business. "Maybe later" turns out to be quite an effective response as it leaves them, it appears, with the genuine hope that you will venture through Istanbul, past all the thousands of others, to their patricular kabap stand a bit later on. One chap shouted out at me when I had walked past ignoring him "Maybe next year?" to which I replied "Yes, maybe next year!" "Please don't break my heart!" resurfaces every now and again. What they don't relise is that for foreign tourists like us British they are actually turning away business with their aggressive methods.
"How can I help you to spend your money?" was a rather honest enquiry, although another chap was a little more candid that afternoon saying, "How can I have your money?"
Ice cream sellers are more like clowns- they play games with the gelatinous turkish stuff, twirling it in the air and teasing passers by and punters alike with a wafer cone stuck on the end of a long spatula. They ring a bell above their head whenever anyone walks past, and flair their eyes with a grim smile. The enthusiasm with which they stir their ice cream has to be a device to drum up business.
I met up with Ertan, a friend of my pal Jessica Ozan on my last night, who is a Turkish Phd student. It was fantastic to meet him, and he took me to this wonderful art workshop in Sultanamet which served a great Turkish coffee. He then took us out for some red wine on Galata bridge and adamently refused to let me pay- typically Turkish! He is a font of knowledge about Turkey and I hope to see him again when he gets over to Western Europe!
Talking of Western Europe, it amuses me greatly that the touts have no idea there "Great Britain" or "UK" are when they try to get you into a conversation. This is one conversation I had recetly:
Tout "Hello!"
HWHW "Hi!"
Tout "Where are you from?"
HWHW "Great Britain"
Tout "Where?"
HWHW "Great Britain!"
Tout "Where??!"
HWHW "It's an island off the coast of Western Europe!"
Tout "I don't believe you!"
I will write an update for the travels since Istanbul at the next internet cafe.
Strangely enough, collevtion of the Iranian visa was very straightforward once we had turned up at precisely the correct time, and on a day when the consulate is not on holiday. Consulate staff get all Turkish and Iranian holidays- a good life! The Iranian Consulate showed Iranian news which was particularly interested with the UK MPs' expenses scandals and the resignation of Michael Martin. The Uzbek consulate were very friendly, despite opening half an hour late, and they arranged the required Letter of Invitation ("LOI" for those in the know) for free. We just had to remain in Istanbul from Monday until Friday.
The Azeri (Azerbaijan) Immigration authorities have conveniently changed their rules a month ago, and now require an LOI. The little chap in the Consulate told this to us with great relish, expressing his "regret" that as Her Majesty's Government makes it difficult for Azeris to visit the UK, they will also make it difficult for us to visit Azerrbaijan. This seems a great way to inject energy into their tourism trade. The fact that we geve them a 6 month multi entry visa for the same money they will give us a 30 day single entry visa appears to be ignored. This is simply another bit of red tape to jump through, hurrah!
This aside, Istanbul remains arguably my favourite city in Europe. Its star attractions are simply awe inspiring and its atmosphere is addictive.
I still have not visited the Harem in the Topkapi Palace, due to the failure of the ticket printing machine at the critical moment, and we were denied entry despite already having bought a ground entry ticket. I will go there on my next visit! The displays of Chinese porcelain were also sadly not on display which was also really irritating!
The Basilica Cistern was well worth a visit, the grandest and oldest (532 AD) underground water storage tank imaginable, built out of the salvaged columns from ruined classical temples. All the columns are different, and there are even two bases in the shape of Medusa's head, one upside down and the other on its side. They were simply pieces of rubble used to build the water tank!
Haghia Sofia (532AD) is as utterly awe-inspiring not only for its inherent sense of wonder due to its extraordinary age (it was more than 500 years old at the time of the Norman Conquest) but also its simply extraordinary interior. The sense of space inside the enormous dome is mesmerising. It is incredible to think that this was achieved before the invention of the flying butteress, and that the Norman Churches such as Durham Cathedral that were built some centuries later relied on enormous piers that obscured the view of the nave. There are heaps of delicate Christian mosaics that were only awoken from their hibernation under whitewash when Ataturk proclaimed the building to be a museum (Not a church, not a mosque). For me, a visit to Haghia Sofia is the highlight of any trip to Istanbul.
Off the beaten track, we ventured down the banks of the Golden Horn to Fener, home to the Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople (now they don't have Haghia Sofia!) The church was adorned in every possible place with lold leaf and icons. As we arrived a choir were milling about chanting the most wonderful sound and we felt very luck to have been there to hear it. We realised they must have been tourists (from Greece?) when, at the end of the chanting they all hastily posed for pictures standing next to various items and exited as quickly as possible- including the priests among them! Perhaps they planted bugs!
I booked a table at Hamdi Restaurant on one night on the balcony which gives a view onto the Golden Horn towards Galata Bridge and over the Bosphoros to Asia. The kebabs are supposedly the best in town, and they were not bad, although they were far outshone by the view, which is the real reason we were there. Out of a very, very large restaurant there were only 6 covers outside, so we felt very pleased with ourselves for having been quite so organised (and lucky) with our reservation.
The Grand Bazaar is an enjoyable excoursion, although having now visited the Souks of Marrakech, I now realise that the haggling banter in Turkey is not quite the same. Store owners will happily turn business away if the customer does not pretty quickly come to the acceptable price, without much charm.
I had noticed what looked like roasted legs of lamb everywhere around Istanbul, and decided it was time one lunchtime to give myself a treat. The meat was sliced, and then chopped into lots of tiny pieces before being put into a bun with some spices. I took a large bite, and was shocked by the aggressively bitter and strong taste the meat had, rather like the flesh around the ribcage of a sardine. On closer inspection, there were loads of little fatty pieces glinting in the smoggy sunlight, and I decided it wasn't wise to continue with this experiment. I suspected that this was the Wrong Sort of offal, that is offal from the Wrong End. A few days later, while having a drink with Tom R (an OR and a friend of Jonny Black's family, I am not going to attempt to spell his surname) I found out that this was Cokorach, sheep's intetines. Lovely.
Shoe polishers are rather a nuicance if one is wearing leather shoes...like docksiders. When they spy you they will chase you down the street, and they will shout out at you that your shoes look grubby and could do with a shine. If I were going to work I imagine they would be quite useful. I don't know why they don't all go to the financial centres rather than the tourist sites. They will walk slowly along the street, and "by mistake" drop one of their brushes for an honest tourist (like me) to pick up and give back. This is a chance for them to corner you for a shoe polish. "Please don't break my heart!" The second time this happened near me I walked past the cham and gave him s smile.
The methods used by Istanbul sellers, and restaurant staff to drum up business are quite extraordinary and rather tiring. Each restaurant you pass will speak to you in English, pleading for your business. "Maybe later" turns out to be quite an effective response as it leaves them, it appears, with the genuine hope that you will venture through Istanbul, past all the thousands of others, to their patricular kabap stand a bit later on. One chap shouted out at me when I had walked past ignoring him "Maybe next year?" to which I replied "Yes, maybe next year!" "Please don't break my heart!" resurfaces every now and again. What they don't relise is that for foreign tourists like us British they are actually turning away business with their aggressive methods.
"How can I help you to spend your money?" was a rather honest enquiry, although another chap was a little more candid that afternoon saying, "How can I have your money?"
Ice cream sellers are more like clowns- they play games with the gelatinous turkish stuff, twirling it in the air and teasing passers by and punters alike with a wafer cone stuck on the end of a long spatula. They ring a bell above their head whenever anyone walks past, and flair their eyes with a grim smile. The enthusiasm with which they stir their ice cream has to be a device to drum up business.
I met up with Ertan, a friend of my pal Jessica Ozan on my last night, who is a Turkish Phd student. It was fantastic to meet him, and he took me to this wonderful art workshop in Sultanamet which served a great Turkish coffee. He then took us out for some red wine on Galata bridge and adamently refused to let me pay- typically Turkish! He is a font of knowledge about Turkey and I hope to see him again when he gets over to Western Europe!
Talking of Western Europe, it amuses me greatly that the touts have no idea there "Great Britain" or "UK" are when they try to get you into a conversation. This is one conversation I had recetly:
Tout "Hello!"
HWHW "Hi!"
Tout "Where are you from?"
HWHW "Great Britain"
Tout "Where?"
HWHW "Great Britain!"
Tout "Where??!"
HWHW "It's an island off the coast of Western Europe!"
Tout "I don't believe you!"
I will write an update for the travels since Istanbul at the next internet cafe.
No comments:
Post a Comment