In Which We Are American Tourists

Seven hours is a big time difference to absorb, but we were ready for breakfast when it was  breakfast time in Turkey -- and there was a delicious spread waiting for us in the dining room. If we hadn't already been to Israel before, we would have been taken aback: eggs and meat, dried fruit and fresh fruit, yogurt and cheese, pastries, hot tea and coffee and juice.  We were well fortified.

Then out into the slushy, slippery streets where cars were driving up and down the hills while people were dodging puddles and stomping through snow.

Our hotel is just a ten minute uphill walk from the main historic landmarks.  Like last year in Italy, we don't actually have the whole place to ourselves but we can tell that there are times of year when this place is packed with tourists.  Even in this weather, there are still tour buses unloading crowds of Asian tourists and guides with the little flags on sticks marching ahead.  We walked around, getting our bearings and soaking our feet.  Eventually we figured out which was  the Blue Mosque and which was the Hagia Sophia and we decided to go to the Blue Mosque first.

Thus began our extended adventure as American tourists who are easy targets for sophisticated salespeople. While we had been wandering the streets, we were of course accosted by a series of men standing outside their stores, asking us to stop in and look.  We waved and said a pleasant hello and kept going.  We weren't really in shopping mode and our feet were cold.  As we headed toward the giant,  beautiful building with 5 minarets plus one more getting renovated, one of those young men recognized us in the park and started up a conversation. Now, don't worry, nothing bad happened.  He was a friendly, chatty guy who clearly had time to spend striking up some sort of relationship.  He came with us to the mosque, told us some history...we knew he was eventually going to ask us to go back to his shop to look at whatever he was selling.

Very brief backstory on our general philosophy of purchases while traveling:  we usually just buy small things that we can carry or eat, but nothing of any long term significance.  Just before we left on this trip, I ran into our neighbor, John Rand and he said, "buy some Turkish rugs while you're there."  I laughed and said we wouldn't be able to carry that. He said, they ship them, and that's part of going there.  I dismissed that idea.

Back to now. We went back to this young man's shop and had some hot tea in the delicate curvy glasses that I remember from 50 years ago when we lived in Ankara for a winter.  Then he brought out his "uncle" who speaks perfect English since he lived in Rochester and Ohio and his mother and brothers live in Harrisonburg VA. This man could have been Malcolm Leinwohl's brother.  We said we weren't really shopping but he was an excellent salesman with nothing else to do on a snowy day.  He had his guys roll out carpet after carpet, showing us how they are made, how different they look from one side or the other.  This shop had stacks of carpets, and more downstairs.  We began to discover the colors and patterns we liked best, and we began to imagine a runner in the hallway, and maybe a different carpet in the living room.  And so it went.  They had all the time in the world.  We bought some carpets, with only mild amounts of dickering.  The trouble is, we don't even have a clue what a good carpet should cost.   We were terrible shoppers. But the rugs are very nice and they will last for a very long time, unlike the dinners we eat and the museum tickets we buy.

Of course Jon is experiencing buyer's remorse.  I am not surprised, and it may be years before he gets used to the fact that we spent a chunk of money, spontaneously, on something so unnecessary.  It is kind of like buying art.  Who knows what it is really worth, but it is certainly a luxury.

After that our young friend Suat was still available to us, and wanted to show us more of Istanbul, no strings attached.  We bought some 3 day museum passes and wandered around in the Museum of Islamic Art and then in the Hagia Sophia (an ENORMOUS building, 1500 years old with a long and storied history as a church and then a mosque and now a museum).

Then we had lunch in a small restaurant -- everything was delicious -- and then we were too cold and tired to do any more.  So we said goodbye and went back to our hotel.

Benjamin, meanwhile, was still trying to get himself booked on a plane and eventually he just had to give up.  He had spent two days at the airport and that was just a drag, and by the time he got here, if he ever did, it would be really late and it didn't feel worth it anymore.  Very sad for us to have this part of the plan foiled by snow. If he had been here, we would never have bought those carpets because he is sensible.  

Our suitcases arrived at the hotel exactly when we did, which was a big  relief because we needed dry clothes.  We took naps and recovered for the rest of the afternoon before venturing out again for dinner.  As happens so often, the restaurant we picked out using reviews from the internet was  NOT where it was supposed to be, so we just ate at a hole in the wall and had a good but not extraordinary meal. The young  man who stood at the door, trying to woo people in, reminded me of Peio.  That's the thing about being a tourist with cold, wet socks: you find any excuse to make choices.  

It was a memorable day and gradually Jon will get over it.  I  look forward to finding a FedEx package of Turkish rugs on our porch, and in many years, handing them down to our children...