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November
27, 1999
This is
Todd Borgie. Today we rested again in Istanbul, Turkey
This is the
place where East meets West, the once-eastern capital of Christianity,
the place where Asia melts into Europe and Europe melts into Asia. This
is Constantinople, and we are seeing its incredible history with our own
eyes - at least we will, once we finish repairing the Rovers.
Yesterday,
Nick and I spent the whole day at Anul’s Otomotiv shop. I am sure Nick
chronicled every detail in yesterday’s journal, so you don’t want to hear
any more about alternators and such. Unfortunately the work on the Rovers
had not been completed (there was too much to do), so we were required to
return to the garage. Figuring we were in good hands, and knowing they
could do the work better then I could, I was tempted to just go
sightseeing with Doug and Jeff. However, at the last minute I decided to
go with Nick and Chanda. Since it was only 8:30 a.m., Nick assured me we
would be done at the garage early enough to catch some sights. I got
ready and met Nick and Chanda in the lobby for breakfast. After watching
them eat breakfast (I was too cheap to eat at the hotel), we attempted to
get to the Land Rovers. The taxi ride was scenic, and for good reason.
After a while, we realized the driver did not know how to find the
garage. It was a good thing that Nick paid attention yesterday. He was
able to vaguely direct the driver, and after asking a few questions of
the locals, we finally found Hercules and Alaska.
Both the
Rovers were being serviced as the three of us jumped out of the taxi.
Plenty of work needed to be done so we all pitched in. Chanda and I began
by finishing the installation of the heater core (it used to leak on your
feet if you sat in the front passenger seat) and Nick was again rummaging
through spare parts in order to find necessary bits and pieces. Although
the cars needed to be cleaned, Chanda and I were growing weary of them,
we were in Istanbul for Pete’s sake! Time just evaporates from Nick as he
labors, so Chanda and I said, "We’re leaving in 15 minutes with or
without you." Nick bargained for 25 minutes and we agreed (but I
think we ultimately gave him a full half-hour).
We left the
garage about 1:30 p.m. Following the advice of Anil (the owner of the
Land Rover shop), we took a cab to downtown Istanbul. The years seemed to
fall away like old, peeling layers of paint as we got deeper and deeper
into the city. Istanbul has a long history (more than 2000 years) with
many relics and monuments that bear witness and stand guard to this rich
history. It has been the capital for the Ottomans, Byzantines and now it
is the most important city in Turkey. Its contoured landscape is nestled
in between the Black and Marmara seas, adding to its beauty, climate and
culture.
It was a
wonderful experience to tour Aya Sofya. Until our stay in Iran, I had
never seen anything so old in such good condition. The frescoes, the
chandeliers, the size and the architecture were wonderful. It really
inspired me and took me to a new and different place. When I am in such
an old building, I often imagine what it would be like if I exited only
to find the outside world was just as it was when the structure was
built. I imagine the people, their clothing, their modes of
transportation and how they viewed the world and their city. I wonder
what I would say or how the people would react to me. I wonder if the
walls of Aya Sofya could speak, what would they say? What have they seen?
After
touring through Saint Sophia, making wishes at the weeping column and
being generally awed by Istanbul’s age and beauty (it was built in the
6th Century, during the reign of Justinian), we went to lunch at a nice
little café near the Blue Mosque. It was unfortunate that it was so late
in the day and many of the great old and beautiful places were closed.
However,
there was enough time for me to get involved with a carpet salesman. He
showed me his wool carpets, his silk carpets, his old carpets, his new
carpets, his synthetic carpets, etc, etc, etc. I must admit I learned a
whole lot, and almost bought a Kurdish carpet (he said it was a Kurdish
one because of its use of maroon, or deep red, but then again, I am
colorblind). But as I was watching my pennies, Rials or Lire (where are
we?), I had to forgo the purchase.
I see all
kinds of neat stuff while traveling, however, as I do not have a house to
decorate, I tend to refrain from buying things. Plus I hate carrying
things around. But one day I will settle down and hope to revisit all
these places for the perfect trinkets. Martha Stewart, watch out!
The day was
getting late so we went back to pick up the Rovers. I don't know if it
was the cigarette the cab driver offered me or his driving -- I tend to
think it was the latter since Nick was as nauseated as I was -- but I was
feeling a little unsettled in my nether regions. Thank God I didn't lose
anything on the way back to the shop, but it wasn't the easiest ride of
my life. I guess it made me appreciate the Rovers. We picked up the
Rovers and made our way back to the hotel in rush-hour traffic.
Rush-hour
traffic offers a new dimension in driving. Although traffic is
frustrating, there is so much to see when you are not familiar with the
area. It was great to survey the faces, cars and sites at a slow speed.
But again, there are additional stresses when negotiating a Rover through
a foreign and crowded place. Power 100 FM got me through the low spots
and we made it back to the hotel fairly uneventfully.
Nick went
to work upon our return. Anil had recommended a Turkish restaurant and we
took him up on his recommendation. To celebrate our American Thanksgiving,
Nick and Chanda took us out to a lighthouse built in the 12th Century
that had been converted to a restaurant. This was certainly one of the
major highlights of our stay in Turkey.
We were
wined and dined throughout the evening. Turkish Cuisine, belly dancers,
knife throwers. You name it, we saw it. After her performance, we were
each photographed with the lovely young dancer (except Chanda, I think).
All I can say is "Wow!" It was a unique Thanksgiving. Although
we did not have any Turkey, we were in Turkey. I guess that is close
enough.
Someone
mentioned that the lighthouse had actually been used as a prison in past
centuries. The view from the eighth story was inspiring (we had to climb
all the steps so we earned it). The lights of the city from this vantage
point warmed our hearts and we went back to the hotel believing in the
magic of Turkey. It surely is a place where beauty abounds.
Doug here
Good morning from Istanbul, Turkey. Today the crew split up into two teams. Toddo and Nick spent the day at Anil auto "overseeing" the installation of Hercules' new alternator, as well as a slew of minor adjustments to both rigs. Jeff and Doug set out to explore the city. We wanted to check out the famous covered bazaar and after a relatively short cab ride we were there. We stopped off a small little restaurant prior to diving in because we wanted to make sure we were up for the task at hand. Anybody who has ever gone shopping with Jeff knows what I'm talking about. The kid can out-shop a Beverly Hills housewife. We wandered around for hours and hours checking out anything and everything. The place was filled with leather goods, knives, rugs, you name it, they sold it. The trick was to check stuff out without appearing to be checking it out, and god help you if you're caught by the shopkeeper. They'll be on you like a pit-bull.
Jeff showed remarkable restraint and after three hours of wandering the bazaar he left with only one purchase. A drum. The actual transaction was a spectacle to behold. The World War One Armistice was negotiated quicker. The whole scene was played out like a B-movie. The shopkeeper opened the theatrical production with the requisite astronomically inflated price and after much chortle ling and guffawing we countered with our own preposterous low price. There were serious questions concerning the drums sound and quality followed by equally serious questions of our intent and integrity. Several Academy Award winning performances were laid down by both parties. At times it appeared that we were long lost brothers reunited after decades apart followed by being a hairs breath away from drawing pistols at dawn.
After much haggling both parties were satisfied and we walked away with the drum. He even through in a cover for it. This last gesture casting serious doubt on the shopkeepers claim that he was losing money on the deal and because of us his children will go hungry the following week.
We went back to the hotel and met up with the gang. Nick wanted us to go see a belly dancing show at the historic Galata tower but we weren't too interested in heading out on the town after the day’s festivities. He felt that we needed to regroup as a team and have some fun together after the teetottling journeys through Pakistan and Iran and the blizzard fest drive through Turkey and he was right but, I was burned out and just wanted to chill at the hotel. I finally relented after he offered to pay for the dinner and show. It was a sweeping display of leadership and generosity but I secretly convinced myself that he fell pray to my final bargaining chip that my children would go hungry if I allowed myself the luxury of an evening out. He later assured me that he didn't buy it for a second.
The show itself was both titillating and hilarious. The master of ceremonies was a slick lounge lizard whose bus must have taken a wrong turn on the way to Vegas because this guy could have given Wayne Newton a run for his money. Turkish dancers plied the stage and we were treated to an awesome display of knife throwing. We laughed our way through the mandatory "audience members join us on stage and make a complete jackass of yourself" portion of the show. If you've ever attended a Hawaiian luau you know what I'm talking about. The highlight of the show was the belly dancers. These women were exotic, highly erotic and they could move. They were like human "zizzwheels" and every man in the place was transfixed on the stage. The whole experience ranks up there somewhere between your first good look at a National geographic magazine and your wedding night.
Abdul Vegas took over the rest of the show and for the next two hours we were treated to a plethora of lounge numbers. At one point every table got to get in on the act. Each group of diners had a flag depicting their country of origin on their table and Abdul would walk around and lead them in some national song. We put forth an honorable, albeit slurred rendition of New York, New York and called it a night.
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