Istanbul II

I got a sweaty bus ride back to Istanbul.  The kid sitting next to me vomited along the way.  I was once like him.

I planned to kill time in Istanbul until the train to Thessaloniki, Greece at night.  I bought my ticket, 30 euro.

However, I had contacted my old college roommate, Jason, because I knew he had been to Turkey many times, and I wanted some suggestions.  He contacted his friend, Burak, who lives in Istanbul.  We planned to meet at 2pm.

I waited under the bridge, read and watched people.  I sat close to a fish restaurant.  Two greasy guys in their mid-forties were yelling aggressively, trying to get people to come in and buy food.  Sometimes one of them would sidle up next to a tourist and be all desperate.  This was their job.  I feel they were bad sales techniques.

Burak came and said that I should stay with him.  The problem was that I just bought the train ticket.  We tried to change it, but it would cost half the cost of the ticket, 15 euro.  Shit.  I said that I wouldn’t stay.  We walked out to the tram, and Burak insisted I stay, that he would take care of costs while I stayed with him.  So generous.  Too nice.  So I paid the 15 euro to change the ticket to the next day.

He took me to a bar on the Asian side to watch the Fenerbahce soccer match, his favorite team.  This bar was on Fenerbahce ground so the reactions to everything were extreme.  It was fun, although it ended in a tie.

Then I went to hang out by the Bosphorus (the sea between Asian and European sides) with Burak and a couple of his friends.  His friend, Daghan, brough his guitar and played some classic Turkish songs, some of his own (about how America sucks), and Hotel California.  I had too many beers, peed in the bushes a few times, and fell asleep.  Then we got a taxi back at 4am.  Crazy!!

This is us by the Bosphorus (Daghan, Burak, Emre, Me).  What the hell am I doing with my fingers?

I slept heavily and woke up to an amazing traditional Turkish breakfast prepared by Burak’s mom, Guler.  Tomato, cucumber, olives, cheese, bread, egg, different type jams, Turkish tea, and Turkish coffee.  Guler was an awesome host, very generous and kind.

Burak and I went out to the city where all the roads were closed because the Iranian president was going to be driving through.  We went to a fortune teller.  After finishing your Turkish coffee, you flip it over and let the thick coffee at the bottom dribble out.  Then your fortune can be told in the lines that it creates dripping down the insides of the cup.  I was supposed to have that done, but the guy just did tarot cards on me.  Here are the predictions:

• In November, I will have 2 job options.
• 1. A tall guy with dark hair and pale skin.  I will work for him for 2 years and have success but it won’t be my success.
• 2. I will move to another place and be very successful, and this will be a job for my career.
• At the end of August, a friend (more than a friend) will confront me about love.  I will need to choose.
• In January 2009, I will meet a girl with blonde hair and pale skin.  We will get into a relationship very quickly and it will be long-term, and very good.
• A girl I had a relationship with in Autumn 2007 will re-enter and cause me confusion, but only for a short time, like a week.  She is short, has dark hair and pale skin.
• I will be married after 3 years.  I will have one child.  A boy.

Burak and I went to a high-end mall a couple of times to go to his really fancy gym.  I noticed that Abercrombie & Fitch is really popular in Istanbul.  All those worn out t-shirts (“Breakfast. Lunch. Happy Hour.”) and sewn-on lettering with tattered cargo shorts.  It was a glimpse into a 2003 frat party.  I hope it has a short life in Istanbul.

Guler prepared a beautiful dinner and we had wine and dessert too.  It was a great couple of days, and a really nice evening with Guler and Burak.  It was hard parting ways.  I had been treated so well, pampered, and I was heading to Greece without knowing where I would stay.  Guler gave me a gift to give to my mom.  A beautiful scarf.  I was receiving gifts!!  I should have been giving them.  I did leave a Thank You postcard and a Thai elephant as a small token of my appreciation.

I hustled across Istanbul and got onto the train, all sweaty.  I’ve been sweaty a lot.

Goreme (Cappadocia)

I took an overnight bus from Istanbul to Goreme.  11 hours.  It was warm outside, but they had the heat blazing inside too.  I was drenched in sweat and my shorts were all sticking to my butt.

I checked into the Backpacker’s Hostel in Goreme (only about $8 per night), and met an Italian couple and this Czech guy, Adam.  The four of us were offered a bunch of different tours for $50 each.  We decided to go for a hike instead.

The landscapes in Cappadocia are amazing.  Sandstone worn down over time into all these weird shapes.  I believe a part of Star Wars was filmed here.  There’s also a bunch of caves that were dug out and people lived in them.

We went to the open-air museum ($13) and saw a lot of churches: shitty little holes in the rock with a lot of decoration on the ceilings and walls.  There were churches within 50 ft of each other.  Church overload.  Not really worth the price of admission.

We hiked a trail (for free) and it was way better.  Hot, really hot.  Desert.  Made me want water really bad.  Kicking around dust.

We got back to the hostel where we met up with 3 Italian girls.  4 of their friends, Italian guys, were coming the next day.  So we organized a minibus to take us to the other parts of Cappadocia ($14 each for a full day).

It was fun hanging out with the 9 Italians, although they mostly spoke Italian.  So I talked with Czech guy Adam, as we were both a little isolated.

We went to an underground city ($13) where Christians hid back in about the 11th century or so.  It was cool to see and went really deep.  A lot of narrow passage ways.

Ilaria, one of the Italian girls, felt I looked like someone.  A celebrity.  Someone in the movies.  She couldn’t place it.  I suggested maybe Brad Pitt.  She talked it over with her Italian friends, and figured it out.  Elio Germano, an Italian actor.  So she called me Elio for the rest of the trip.

We saw this beautiful lake.

Along our hike in Ilharia, we soaked our feet in the stream.  And later we visited a Caravanserais, which was a rest stop for travelers along the Silk Road.

Some photos of the landscape.

Seemed like Texas sometimes.

A badass castle structure.

Back in Goreme, there are a load of tourist shops.  A whole lot of carpet shops since Turkish carpets are supposed to be great.  I found a great deal.  A free carpet exhibition.  They would let me look at carpet … FOR FREE!!!

Adam and I hiked into Love Valley the next day.  The erosion in this area was very unique.  The sandstone protrusions looked like massive erections coming out of the ground.  Photos to cum (sp?) later.

Istanbul

I was going to go to the Black Sea Coast in Bulgaria, but I figured that it was just going to be beach and partying, so I decided to move on to Istanbul.  I had contacted my friend Matt Wilson, who had lived in Turkey for a while, to get some recommendations.  He told me he’d be in Istanbul for a few days.  International friendship, international coincidence!

So I took a sleeper train and shared a six-man couchette with two Italians and a Turk.  All in their twenties and cool.  We talked a lot about American culture since the two Italians had lived in Santa Monica for a year.  One of them had a definite Californian accent; he even dressed like it.  It was a good time.

As we departed, the Turk guy, Mehmet, was curious if I had accomodation.  I didn’t, so he told me to come with him, I could stay at his place.  Awesome.

Mehmet fed me, gave me my own room, and let me use the internet.  I repaid him with some beer and kebabs.  He was going to offer me his place for a few days, but a problem came up.  One of his girls was going to come by the following day.  He told me that since he broke up with his girlfriend a few months ago, he’s gained these “fuck buddies,” like four of them.  And he says that its happened because he hasn’t really cared about relationships or having sex or anything.  He’s been depressed.  So they’ve just come after him.  One via Facebook.  Lucky guy.

I toured around and saw some things in the city.  I found out Istanbul is immense, the biggest city I’ve been to.  Saw a lot of mosques, the Grand Bazaar (shitty), blah blah.

The next day I went to find a hostel.  A couple were booked solid.  And then I walked into one and found Matt sitting there.  Wow!

It was great.  We ate, had drinks, chilled out.  He speaks Turkish and knew what to see and do.  A friend guide.

I went to see some sites like the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.  I paid about $20 to see the Hagia Sophia.  Big and old church.  Lots of history, I guess, but not worth the price of admission.

Blue Mosque:

Hagia Sophia:

I met up with Matt again and a couple of his co-workers.  We ate at “My dear Liver” which serves liver shish kebabs.  So I had liver and this Turkish yogurt drink.  I also had a lot of Turkish tea, the national drink, which is excellent.

Then we had (Efes) beer at a few bars, and then went to a place for some live Gypsy music.  It was a good night, but I realized later that I had spent about $100 that day.  That sent me into a small panic, and so I curtailed my spending the next couple of days.  Difficult though because Istanbul is expensive.

I was also getting sort of stressed by the city.  There’s a bunch of narrow streets on big hills that you would think are only pedestrian but cars are always on your ass.  And you have to watch your legs and feet because they don’t give a shit for pedestrians.  It was really wearing me down somehow.

The Spice Bazaar was pretty cool.  There were still the same shops full of junk products and souvenirs, but the spice shops smelled and looked great.

Once again, there were lots of people who needed a real job.  Old men trying to sell a battery-operated cat that would walk around within a shoebox, or a top on a string.  How many of these things were they expecting to sell?  They’d stand in one spot all day hoping for $1.

So, I liked Istanbul a lot for the generous people, the food, the history, but I didn’t like the prices and I was disappointed by the sites.

Even though I had a mini-freakout about my spending, I paid about $45 for a bus to Cappadocia, a region whose sandstone has been interestingly-shaped by erosion.  I felt I should do it while I was close.