Day1: The hidden ingredient in cough medicine

Arriving at Brisbane Airport we measured the luggage and found out I was over weight (hmmm might have guessed that) and they wouldn’t let me take my helmet on board, so in a quite corner, the juggling commenced.  Some items were left out, the helmet had to be packed into the bigger bag and some bits in it had to be packed onto me...via my motorcycle jacket. I think it weighted 10kgs by the time we had finished with it and then both liners (wet weather and thermal) were attached!   Struggling through customs trying to make everything look  ‘light‘, I was asked to re-weigh my carry on luggage. ..I was over but I said I had just put my books back in the bag.  Then he asked me to weigh my other bag…the items I had shoved into the back pocket of the jacket were placed just on the spot that would have done Beyonce proud and protruded at rakish angles, he thought I had another bag on my back because of this.   “I don’t have another bag, it’s just my jacket” - I think I might have been batting my eyelids the right way as the line seemed to work and I was through.

I’d worked out when I needed to sleep on the trip to start syncing myself to Turkey time - basically it meant staying awake until the flight out of Singapore at 2:30am that morning.  So, weary wanderings took me to all the wonderful stores at the airport  where I proceeded to forget the size of my Beyonce butt until  I found myself in the narrow isles of the fragrance section…reverse is the only option in those situations.

I woke up just as we were 10 metres off hitting Turkish soil…grey clouds on the horizon and struggling with the luggage as all the trolleys were taken. The plan was the visit the Iranian Embassy first as they only took Visa applications in the morning and then you had to wait 3 working days - I needed it before Tuesday so I could get to Greece. Dumping my luggage at the hotel (“what have your got in here, it is VERY heavy“…yes I know!) I set out for the embassy - just as the skies opened up and I remembered that the fold up umbrella was one of the things we had to dump (“you can always get another one when you are there…anyway, how much is it going to rain“)- I thought of Jan (the umbrella giver) and hoped that she would forgive my sodden self. The only thing that was dry was my feet, I had brought some Merrel Gortex hiking boots which were working wonders in the rain but had the traction of a greased eel on the slippery cobble stone streets.

Sopping wet and walking as gracefully as a toddler I found my way to the large guardsman at the embassy door- just remembering to put my scarf over my hair at the last minute. I was uncertain of the reception I would be given, I had heard all the horror stories of nasty visa officials but the gentleman who served me couldn’t have been nicer. All I had to do was fill in the form, cross the road to deposit 70 euro in the bank  and when I had done that I could come back to him. Simple. Cross the road that was now running with water in my shoes with honking Turkish traffic who feel that pedestrians are those annoying things you should trying not to hit every now and then.  My toes must have grown claws as I shuffled across the road, deposited the money and clutching the rain soaked receipt was back with the nice gentleman. “You can pick up your visa at 12noon on Monday”.

Just outside the Iranian Embassy having applied for visa with appropriate headware

Shoes - Caveat Emptor!

Wanderings saw me find the Grand Bazaar which was a respite from the rain, but an avalanche of colours, movement, people and “Hello madam…come look at this…where are you from????”  I looked at some antique maps that a friend of mine would like and after hearing that they were 120 Turkish Lyra ($70 AUD) I thought that perhaps my friend was just happy to be my friend J…and of course they were copies as I saw the same ‘authentic’ antique maps in a number of stores. I had my first Turkish Kebab and piece of Baklava for lunch flavours that seemed familiar yet were different. I then hunted for my first piece of Turkish Delight to take back to the hotel…reacting like Pavlov’s dogs, just at the thought of it. Oh how I LOVE good Turkish delight and where would the worlds BEST Turkish delight be?…in Turkey!!!





The Grand Bazar

 




Lights in the Bazar

 

After a long day, I wearily walked back to the hotel - shivering in the cold , but clutching my Turkish Delight as if it were gold. The heating in the room was a blessing and after finding some dry clothes, I sat on my bed, peeled back the sliver foil and prepared to have my oral senses blissed out. I’m not sure if it was the general tastlessness or the rubbery texture that hurt the most - either way, my Turkish delight was more a Turkish Tyre. Perhaps I brought the wrong sort - the hunt will continue!

Rainy view from my room - Ancient buildings meet Ottoman architecture

View from room - the nearby mosque

The offending Turkish Delight

Trying to stay awake and as the rain had stopped,  I thought I had better go for a pre dinner walk. I ambled around the back streets of my area, finding wonderful old ottoman homes and seeing daily life as it exists here, mothers pushing their little ones on the swings, older children dressed up for what looks like American marching band practise, although of course it wouldn’t be that. My throat was starting to ache again ( I had the flu just prior to flying out) and I thought I should find a pharmacy.  “What are you looking for? A gorgeous young man asks me, of course wanting to sell me some dinner at his café. I speak with a croaky voice and he points me in the right direction. I assume that “sicakliginda alkalinize cocuklarn goremeyecegi erisemeyecegii” means “don’t worry about quantities, just have a good swig of the bottle and you’ll be feeling better in no time”.  Walking back past the same young man he is now with what I think is his father. ‘You are feeling better now, come and have some dinner at our cafe”. I had wanted to try out a little restaurant near the hotel so decline saying that I’m too sick. “Ahh, the only way to fix that is with a good head job” adds the older man.  Maybe I need to re-read that label…did it really say ‘cocuklarn’ and  what IS that ingredient!


The restaurant has beautiful Turkish lights on the roof and carried a homely feel. Dinner is spicy chicken kebab with lemonata which I assume is lemonade but is a wonderful tangy strong homemade lemon drink with mint. I can feel the food burning in my throat and hope the germs are dying a horrid death. The nice waiter who is serving me knows that I am not well and seems to look after me. I see couple after couple come into the restaurant and it hits me that I am alone and how nice it would be to share this moment with family / friends. I knew it is one of the things I will face on this trip I just didn‘t expect the feeling to be so intense, so quickly. Tears just flow as I think of why I feel this way and what loneliness really is. I try to mop them up with my napkin before somebody sees me. The waiter comes over and I ask for the bill. “I have some elma cay (apple tea) for you, it is my gift”. The sweet tea smooths me, I know that I am tired and sick and just really need to sleep.

As I leave he also gives me a  pin that holds a tiny evil eye protector and a dolphin. These evil eyes are everywhere and are used to protect the wearer by reflecting back the malevolent forces that some people carry.  I have attached it to my backpack…..every bit helps. It is my first day.

Protection

Days until I meet my bike: 12
Not so brilliant Turkish Delight: 1
Kebabs: 2
Lurid suggestions: 1
Curses at slippery shoes: 8
Helpful cups of tea by nice Turkish waiter: 1
Major lesson to learn: I am never alone













Bird on a cold copper roof - the other Tennesse Williams Play