Thank you French. Great, now I am keeping strangers up all night.

Cold

I just wanted this retort to be longer than your trip report.

Great trip report, thanks! Never been much interested in visiting Turkey, but now feel the need to visit some of these places ... and see those muscular German thighs ... oh, my!

Thanks Just. We all travel for different reasons.

I am not a stranger, just strange.

Adu, you should be proud as one of the first Americans to make a Frenchman laugh at anything other than an American.

Nobody realizes that you are not trying to be funny. They just believe that anyone with that name should write funny trip reports.
That is why Cold does not write any. The other day he actually put together all of three medium size sentences in a single post. I bet he had to go to bed and rest half a day afterwards.

i think you should finish this report before you forget everything. Of'course Andrea will have prepared maps with pins sticking at where you have visited and crumbles of food showing where you ate to remind you every week or so.

Hello FMT,
will you leave France for the first time and visit New York or Istanbul if i tell you that both Adu and i look like megaliths (small ones) and can even act like them, and that there are even better ones in our immediate neighborhood? Or, how about Canada? we have heard of a famous megalith there, which is rather allusive and difficult to observe, but there nevertheless.

yes, very entertaining report, made me smile , looking forward to more! Enjoy your trip!

otherchelebi - I see my reputation as a megalith hunter has transcended the boundaries of the Fodors France forum. I would most certainly like to go to Istanbul to visit your megaliths and any megalith-like humans in your environs. Would this visit include a guided tour and home cooked meal like that given to Adu? This Canadian megalith sounds intriguing. Perhaps it will reveal itself one day, or maybe it's here hiding in plain sight.

To Adu and all the others be warned that I know all about your little club now and I know what you are up to. I shall check back on this report to insure that the quality of dialogue maintains a consistent standard. Those not adhering to the standard will be escorted to the Fodorite Lounge.

I am a megalith.

I am being threatned to be exiled to the Lounge.

Why? Because prople enjoyed the trip rport. How does this make sense?

I would respond but I am busy planning our next trip to Australia. Otherchelebi if that is anywhere near Turkey we will definitely drop in.

Hilarious report - I mean laugh out loud hilarious, which gets harder and harder to do these days. Thanks so much Adu, EJ

Sorry Adu. I think I've been misunderstood. I am one of the people who enjoyed this trip report. I often make no sense. I'll leave now.

French

This is just repartee, please stay and enjoy.
____________________________________
Thank you Elsie.

Adu - Having only been a member of the forum for several months now and due to my fear of being misunderstood in my obscure attempts at on-line humor I am painfully afraid of falling flat on my face should any of my posts backfire on me. I was so caught up in the spirit of your thread that I really wanted to be "one of the gang". You got me. Now everyone knows what an easy target I am.

On a more serious note, your style of traveling and reporting is the kind I like the most. Off the beaten path, full of adventure and experiences and lots of encounters with the locals.

I shall now pick my pride up from the dirt, dust it off and try to regain my intestinal fortitude as I prepare myself for more adventures and witty repartee. Maybe I'll even try to make another joke.

Thank you French and keep on participating.

We also had many experiences that were ordinary during the trip but were excluded. And I can't stand trip reports that record when people got up in the morning, when the flight arrived, and the number of bowl movements.

Don't forget to tell us what time you go to bed. I'm anxious to know.

Don't forget to tell us what time you go to bed. I'm anxious to know.

When the drugs kick in.

Bowl movements? Is that like curling?

Bowl movements? Is that like curling?

It an be, if there is no movement.

Lost Will and Testament

It is our last day in Turkey. We are sitting on the top floor of the hotel, eating breakfast in the glass closed dining area with dramatic views of the Blue Mosque and Ayasofya cloaked in the white/grey pontillistism of the morning. A pair of German women gather some bread and fruit from the buffet and as they walk to their table I wonder, what these two have been doing since Auschwitz closed. OK, I’m easily distracted but they did look like they left the crow bar in their room, so they cannot open their lips or thighs.

The nice thing about having your wallet stolen is that you do have to worry about it be taken again. I believe it was taken on the tram just hours after arriving in Istanbul. I put the wallet in my front pocket just to avoid this inconvenience. Afterwards, I purchased a decoy wallet, which had absolutely nothing in it. Thus, if I was pick pocketed again there would be a very disappointed crook. It is embarrassing, however, because I lost my NYPD Captain Benevolent Society shield. This gift was my get out of jail free card. I am hopeful I can get a replacement upon our return home.

I will not get hysterical like some posters who get pick pocketed in Spain or Italy who wish to urge the State Dept to recall our ambassador or command future visitors to wear steel underwear. It occurred but then we had a full and exciting week in Istanbul. After the theft Andrea carried her credit cards in a place that not even I would want to travel.

Between 12.5 and 15 million people live in Istanbul and most of them ride the tram when we needed it most. There is a frenetic energy in the narrow and few wide boulevards by everyone including the hordes of tourists. While Americans may not have “discovered” Turkey, the Germans, Spanish, Italians, and Japanese certainly have. While we too, of course, are tourists, we prefer not to travel in swarms and think that tour groups are elevated live forms who have special needs and are immune from basic social graces.

Otherchelebi (Other) invited us to his home for dinner and a spectacle view of Turkey’s Republic Day fireworks. Mrs. Other is so afraid of meeting serial killers from Fodor’s that she has concocted some story about a class reunion, although I think she is hiding in the linen closet. His beautiful daughter and boy friend join us. First there are many mezes with many tastes and textures; even the bread is elegantly arranged among the folds of a napkin in a basket. This is followed by exquisite lamb and uniquely prepared rice and rich desserts.

The fireworks filled the sky above the Bosporus and our view from on high made it more spectacular. Other then showed us his prized Mad magazine and Edward Whittemore collections. A most pleasant evening was had by all.

The following day Other conducted a personalized tour including the grounds of the university where he lectures. He claims they even give him a classroom for these purposes. We also visited a local market where Andrea and I were the only invited guests. There were leeks the size of bamboo shoots and fish that looked like they had a skin rash. We purchased some spices and made friends with many merchants who wanted us to take their picture. They also wanted me to send them a copy. It was a market without walls or individual addresses, so look for them soon on Picasa. We finished our day with a fabulous meal at one of Other’s favorite restaurants, Emek Manti Evi, whose specialty is Turkish ravioli. The main course was the raviolis or manti, one fried, one boiled separated by a river of flavored yoghurt. Other told the waiter I was a world renowned food critic. The yoghurt on my shirt was a direct proof of this and his claim was substantiated by the fact that I was quoted two years in a row in Fodor’s NYC Guide in the food section about a tapas bar on 10th Avenue. Since this guide is purchased in many English speaking countries I clearly qualify as an international reviewer.

On our way to the Blue Mosque the next morning a rug salesman in the guise of a rug salesman attached himself to us as our unofficial and totally unwanted guide and companion. He spouted standard facts and figures and his fawning made me itchy. Mosques are open expanses and elegantly simplistic as compared to churches and synagogues. The tiles and the great chandeliers are the attraction and it is meant to inspire awe. We told him we wanted to take pictures, so he suggested he would wait outside and then show us his rug shop, as if that was an inducement to see him again. He was annoyed that I feigned illness and did not want to go to his shop. No matter how religions try to entice and retain membership, they have too many rules. A devout Muslim must wash his face, hands, and feet three times before entering the Mosque, which could be the reason we did not see any French inside.

At breakfast we sat next to a young Tunisian couple. This was the first trip out of the country for the wife and next week, this week, the husband was making his first, and maybe only hajj to Mecca. They were from the city of Sfax and they were explaining how people from Sfax only married others from Sfax because of their regard for education and veneration of the old. Yes, there are million of Sfax jokes.

The following day we began our siege of Topkapi early. (It is pronounced Top-ka-PU, but you did not know that until know.) We raced to the Harem to beat the crowds. Unfortunately the crowds were at the Treasury. The Harem held at least 800 concubines; many had the Ottoman equivalent names of Tiffany and Glory. They lived under horrible conditions but the Sultan and his Mommy lived very well as did the chief concubine. The Treasury was most unpleasant spot where the pushing and shoving of the other tourists did not allow you to properly appreciate the decadence on display. The famous dagger with the mammoth emeralds was actually used in the movie with Peter Ustinov and looks a dagger a kid would design. It is not elegant but ostentatious.

One night we took in the Whirling Dervishes. It was staged in a museum dedicated to journalism. The first 20 minutes of the presentation was music by four musicians without the benefit of the whirlers. When the whirlers finally arrived, there was a rookie Dervish who was out of sync with the mesmerized veterans and appeared tired from the spinning class. They only turn counter clockwise which limits their repertoire. It is an odd spectator sport where you are watching others spin into a self-induced hypnotic state of mystical ecstasy, something like watching Glenn Beck. And then there is the whole enrichment of this earth and the well-being of humanity as a whole thing.

We also inspected the Egyptian Spice Market and the Grand Bazaar. We expected to see more RoleXXXes and Moe Vados than we did. The younger men are more aggressive in their limited English harassment, than their elders. The bazaars are divided into sections as to what they sell, all the jewelry stores, for example, are bunched together, as are the “hip hop” clothing stalls. They have special lighting that makes both the diamonds and the Turkish equivalent of QVC jewelry glitter.

On our next to last day we visited the Istanbul Modern. This five year old museum is dedicated to Turkish art of the last 90 years or so and we wanted a brief glimpse of what is considered important. After three weeks if being immersed in the past, it was a refreshing if not a jolting change. We are also curious in light of the recent Turkish president’s intent of spreading fundamentalism what would actually be on the walls. There are nudes, work from the Communist era, and many pieces influenced by western art. There were also many forms of moving art including documentaries and computer generation animation, which are more inventive than the oils and mixed media exhibits. When we asked why the museum was allowed to exist, we are told that few fundamentalists have memberships, even though there is 10% discount at the gift shop.

We then walked up a street that was a perpendicular climb. We were rewarded at the top of the hill when we discovered Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue) one of Istanbul’s largest and busiest carless boulevards. This eventually narrowed into the musical instrument district of Istanbul. In one store we admired the workmanship of the instruments and asked many questions about the construction and the sounds. The saleswomen proudly said that her husband made them by hand. One youngish man demonstrated many stringed instruments including the saz, lute, and stick fiddle. I wanted to show him how to the change the sound by playing the saz like a slide guitar but I could only find a magic marker in the store which I ran up and down the neck of the instrument. But the fellow said he was familiar with American bluegrass and country music. We then walked across the street to buy some trinkets where a young woman asked if we needed help. We chatted with her and her sister, who also worked in the shop, about many things including their desire to walk Camino in Spain which Andrea accomplished two years ago and their hopes of becoming of becoming tour guides in Spanish and English. My impersonations of Spanish and English tourists did not discourage their aspirations. After an hour we exchanged e-mail addresses.

On the final afternoon in Turkey we visited Otherchelebi and his wife for some tea. She summoned enough courage to emerge from her closet. She was clearly rented as she was too pretty and smart to be associated with Other. She made a wonderful confection of semolina, honey, and nuts. Other gave us some spices and a replacement wallet. We said goodbye and hope that they stop in New York so we can in some small way reciprocate in kind.

Visiting Turkey is like attending a vocational school, you do not understand it until you actually do it. I have never felt more unprepared to visit a country, despite Andrea spending months on the Internet language site called Livemocha.com learning Turkish and trying to understand their past, culture, and topography. This glorious accident of geography and history has the remnants of many of the great civilizations, yet very little of its own. You visit structures layered with history that includes the Greeks, Romans, Christians, Muslims, and Hittites but modern Turkey is obscured some how. Troy, Mt. Ararat, the house where the Virgin Mary supposedly died, and large expanses of Roman ruins are all to be found here. The treasury at the Topkapi Palace boldly claims and displays the staff of Moses. Our friend Otherchelebi notes, even the later leaders of the Ottoman Empire were not Turkish. There is no sense of a modern Turkish style or design and while driving through the countryside, we did not see one town that was distinctly charming, intriguing, or enticing.

But it is that past and the warm and gracious Turks who made this country welcoming. But then again it took thousands of years to get to this moment and I am passing judgment on a narrow three week excursion.