Wednesday 19 September – Turkish delights and the advantage of being Aussie.

After a leisurely breakfast, we all headed off this morning, back over the top of the Hippodrome and literally followed the tramlines down to the Galata Bridge.  We crossed over, pausing to check out the catches in the buckets of the many, many fisherman - and they were all men - who cast their rods over the side.  Then a steep climb up to the Galata Tower, pausing to catch our breath in its shadow with morning tea of chocolate cake and carrot cake (which was almost shared with a kitten).  The queue for the tower stretched for some distance, so Steve and Jen postponed their climb to its top and we made our way back down the hill, back across the bridge and into the Spice Market to overload our senses with the real smells of the East.  John bargained his way for our next year’s supply of Iranian saffron and we sampled some scrumptious Turkish Delight.

Then back out into the streets, absolutely teeming with people, and again stopped for a delicious lunch of pide and chicken kuvat, then made our way through the throngs to the Grand Bazaar, with its 4,000-plus shops spaced over sixty-one separate internal streets.  The place throbs with life and activity, although we noticed that the shop-keepers were less vocal and enthusiastic than on the last two occasions when we have visited here, and seem to be less willing to engage in the time-honoured tradition of good-natured bartering.  Nonetheless we acquired a few “essentials”, including a small statute of Mehmet II, the Ottoman sultan who conquered Constantinople in 1453.

Back out on the street, we started to head back towards our hotel, at one stage walking down a long street that seemed to only contain shoe shops, all of which were apparently restocking – the entire street was taken up with men unloading boxes of shoes, to the point that we had to dodge trolleys and piles of empty boxes to get through.  We encountered numerous shopkeepers who were more enthusiastic about enticing us in to see their wares than we had seen in the bazaar and at one stage, just off the Hippodrome, John said “No thanks” to a shopkeeper before he had had a chance to speak.  The man’s two colleagues laughed heartily and reminded us, in perfect English, that we have to wait for the irresistible offer before we refuse it.  We stopped and had a very pleasant chat that ended with them pointing us towards a nearby restaurant where we had a refreshing drink, before returning to our hotel, pausing for a quick look in a small local mosque.

One thing we have noticed several times today is that, when street-side shopkeepers try to entice us into their shops and we politely decline, they recognise our Australian accent and then engage us in friendly banter. There is absolutely no doubt that there is a strong bond between the people of Turkey and Australia, dating back to our shared tragedy of just over a century ago.

After a couple of hours rest we again headed out and found a restaurant atop a hotel, affording us not only good food but also a wonderful view across the rooftops to the Blue Mosque in one direction and the Bosporus in the other.  A perfect end to a perfect day.