Well and truly through jetlag and feeling a burst of Monday productivity I thought I should finish this.
We ate lunch at this place a couple of times. Obligatory cat photos. I haven’t really spoken about the weather, how un-anglophilic of me. It was quite cold in Istanbul at the start of March. Layering up was key. This place gives you afternoon sun. When in doubt sit where the cats are.
On the plus side, I don’t think Istanbul was as lethally busy as it would be in peak Tourist season.
Nola Galata had the most diverse menu I encountered, it also had a large outdoor courtyard. Music ebbed and flowed between lounge, jazz and parts of Latin America. This looked like a good place to smoke a cigar outside under a night sky.
Rooftop vantage points are also very popular. Unfortunately, the last night we went up had been a rainy day.
This did not deter the freelance semi-professional photographer.
Speaking of which enjoy a mozaic of strangely cropped by WordPress supplementary photos from previous posts.
I would not call myself a fine diner but as someone who works in hospitality, I thoroughly enjoyed all of the service I received in Istanbul. All the hopsitality I experienced was done to a very high level. On my last day, I found an interesting cafe called Federal Galata.
Mural outside.
Federal Galata was interesting in that they had really good shazazmable music. The Australian flag outside denoted an Antipodean filter. I did enjoy the crazy Coffee and the cafe was set up for teleworking. Tapping away in a faraway country with good coffee and a superb degree of anonymity is a real happy place and one I have missed over the years,
My luggage arrived last Thursday. A couple of carefully selected and cheerfully purchased fridge magnets now adorn my fridge. A hammand spa shower loofah resides in my shower. I have a book to read about the hotel’s historical significance. Like all good explorers, I brought treasure home with me.
As promised. I have made it safely to New Zealand. My plane was late leaving Istanbul, what was I saying about efficiency? I had an hour to clear customs and get on my flight to New Zealand in Doha. Although I and my large suitcase made it here. My Fri(day) suitcase I had fastidiously packed before I left did not make it. I will probably see it on Monday. For now, I have made another technical pitstop before I drive home. My two friends work from home on Fridays and I shall *work* as well.
Where were we? Ah yes, Bazaars. After leaving the Basilica Cistern we meandered towards the Grand Bazaar.
The Grand Bazaar (Turkish: Kapalıçarşı, meaning ‘Covered Market’; also Büyük Çarşı, meaning ‘Grand Market’[1]) in Istanbul is one of the largest and oldest covered markets in the world, with 61 covered streets and over 4,000 shops[2][3] on a total area of 30,700 m2,[4] attracting between 250,000 and 400,000 visitors daily.[5] In 2014, it was listed No.1 among the world’s most-visited tourist attractions with 91,250,000 annual visitors.[6] The Grand Bazaar at Istanbul is often regarded as one of the first shopping malls of the world.
Hard-earned experience being grifted in South East Asia, downright mugged in Egypt and everything in between has made me a bit shy of such places. I had an ace up my sleeve this time. Very little luggage space and a convivial but firm German. I would not be buying a carpet, magic lamp, or anything else I did not need.
I have to say most of the shopkeepers were very polite. They will usually say hello and are not pushy in a traditional sense. I am sure if you engage and say you are after a particular item a game of sorts will begin but Silvi would just say thank you and that would be it. What I was not prepared for was Silvi finding increasingly ridiculous items that I did not need.
Cat Pillows.
Camouflage outfits for Dad and Son. Moustaches optional extra.
Turkish traditional outfits, Tarboush Tarboosh, and strange boots were also floated.
I deflected this unintentional salesperson with good grace and after a good session inside the Grand Bazaar, we made our way to the spice market. Surrounding the Spice market you get the temporary stalls and street sellers that you might find in Asia. This blend reminded me of the Souks in Qatar. It was here the shopkeepers would rattle off a series of greetings to ascertain where you are from. I am VERY happy given my garb and demeanor I was not mistaken for being English. Not so happy I got mistaken for being Dutch or South African.
There are several documents suggesting that the name of the bazaar was first “New Bazaar”. Then it got its name “Egyptian Bazaar” (Turkish: Mısır Çarşısı) because it was built with the revenues from the Ottomaneyalet of Egypt in 1660.[1] The word mısır has a double meaning in Turkish: “Egypt” and “maize“. This is why sometimes the name is wrongly translated as “Corn Bazaar”. The bazaar was (and still is) the center for spice trade in Istanbul, but in recent years shops of other types are gradually replacing the sellers of spices.[1]
I would have loved to pick up some spices here, the colors and variety on offer were inspiring even for a Chef who needs a six-month break from his potentially lethal cooking each year. Unfortunately, New Zealand biosecurity and the potential unwelcome admin were not something I could stomach. I will never forget the smell of the spice bazaar, all of the spices combined in a fragrancy from another world.
We did pick up a good amount of Turkish Delight. Pro tip; Turkish Delight works best when it is stationed on top of a bedside set of drawers.
After the Spice Bazaar we made a unique walk across the river Bosphorus. We left the European continent and walked to Asia.
We dined at a couple of places near our hotel. In my next post, I shall write about these and add professional photos from Silvi. TTFN.
With another rotation under my belt, it was time to have a well-deserved technical stopover in Istanbul. My new traveling companion and I spent a couple of weeks hatching an itinerary. What follows are a few words, photos, insights, and links to places we enjoyed.
I departed on Sunday from Tivat, Montenegro. Tivat has been eye-opening and I will get back to my toe dipping in the Baltics but for the moment you can just enjoy a photo of my plane.
Istanbul has a population of 15 million plus or minus a few hundred thousand. The airport is very efficient, so efficient that I can not remember collecting my bags directly from a baggage carousel after passing customs in a long time. The airport transfer area at entrance 14, had a multitude of companies shepherding tourists to accommodation.
Ecole St. Pierre Hotel, was restored from an old French school of the 19 th century.The walls inside the building are from the Genoese Empire back 1000 years.Restoring the project with keeping the rich history and enhancing it with modern architecture Ecole St. Pierre is providing a multicultural experience.The ultimate hotel for those seeking to be fully present in the moment and breathing the 13th century at the same time.
Lifted from the link. Now it has to be noted that neither I nor my travelling companion decided to setup shop in a former Genova market colony from a thousand years ago. Lets just say my time in Italia has left an indelible mark.
The hotel was really lovely, they looked after us impeccably well. They had an Italian restaurant and the room service was superb.
The next day after a leisurely breakfast we caught an Uber to Hagia Sophia and the blue Mosque. Uber works in Istanbul and is a little less overwhelming than trying your luck with the numerous taxi companies. We had a really nice day and although I have temple fatigue and church rot from my many years of travelling. Mosques are still fresh to me and these two are really something.
The Kılıç Ali Paşa Hamamı was built by the great Ottoman architect Mimar Sinan between 1578 and 1580. Commissioned by Kılıç Ali Pasha, hailed as the “conqueror of the seas,” the bathhouse was built to serve the mariners of Tophane, Istanbul’s seafront district. This freestanding structure is a rare example of a bathhouse whose entire exterior can be seen in full. Its magnificent main dome, which is 14 meters wide and 17 meters high, is the second-largest dome gracing a hammam in Istanbul.
Lifted from link above.
Now whilst it is possible to get a traditional couples hammam treatment if you want the real deal and to feel like royalty this is as good as it gets. After changing into a towel you are doused with water from a bucket and then put on a heated marble pad and warm up before your attendant scrubs you, massages you covers you in foam, and repeats until you are glowing all over. I had a massage booked after my hamamm and this might have been overkill given the amount of massage you get during the normal treatment but it was well deserved and received.
It is here I should talk about cats and dogs. Cats and Dogs have a special place in Istanbul. They have free reign of the city. Houses are made in public spaces for dogs and Cats frequently live in shops. There was a cat by the cash register at the Cafe where I wrote this. Needless to say he got a tip.
Some would say Italia is still coasting on the largess the Roman Empire built during its reign. It is well deserved. Istanbul was the eastern Rome under Emperor Constantinople. Like most self-respecting males I think about the Roman Empire daily. So it was off to Basillica Cistern we delved the next day. A cavernous structure it stored water for the Palace and surrounding areas. Istanbul although strategically important had no natural water for its inhabitants. Water flowed via aqueduct from the Belgrade forest 19 kilometers away.
It is here I must pause my writing. I promised myself I would get something up before I started my trip home, and that begins soon enough. I still have a few more things to say including our trips to the Bazaars and dining recommendations. I do believe that is a hook.
Thank you Silvi for the more expert photos found in my post :-). Tune in next time for the follow-up.
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It was before dawn when I scryed a exotic hand bag shop opening in duty free. One could not buy a coffee but could fastoon oneself with a designer handbag before the sun rose.
Managed decay. This delightful strategy describes navy philosophy for the stewardship of seagoing assets. In my field of expertise yachts required a refit every 5 years, usually cosmetic. The really cool ones take part more sporadically and are called Technical refits.
And so I find myself leaving for a self improvement technical refit to a country I am very fond of.
https://theselines.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/These-Lines-Logo-Slim-White.png00El Dracohttps://theselines.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/These-Lines-Logo-Slim-White.pngEl Draco2023-12-02 17:50:322023-12-02 17:50:33Handbags at dawn
Turns out an LLM can create passable tales of some merit. Consider this an appetizer for my forthcoming expose and long overdue Crew Profile of Kieren,
“Write me a funny story about a Scottish Super Yacht Engineer named Kieran who drinks a lot and falls in love with a waitress at a Hooters bar in Hamburg Germany”
Once upon a time, there was a Scottish Super Yacht Engineer named Kieran who loved nothing more than fixing up luxury yachts and having a good time. He was known for his love of pints and whiskey, which he enjoyed in copious amounts.
One day, Kieran found himself in Hamburg, Germany, and decided to hit up a Hooters bar for some food and drinks. As he sat at the bar, he couldn’t help but notice the beautiful waitress serving him. Her name was Greta, and she had long blonde hair and a smile that could light up the entire bar.
Kieran, being the smooth talker that he was, struck up a conversation with Greta and bought her a drink. As they chatted, Kieran found himself falling more and more in love with her. He was smitten with her accent and her stunning blue eyes.
The night wore on, and Kieran continued to drink, regaling Greta with stories of his adventures on super yachts. But as the drinks kept flowing, Kieran’s speech started to slur, and his tales became more and more outlandish.
Before he knew it, Kieran had fallen off his bar stool and was lying on the floor, much to the amusement of the other patrons. But Greta wasn’t laughing. She rushed over to help him up, and as she did, Kieran realized that he had never felt this way about anyone before.
He clumsily asked Greta out on a date, and to his surprise, she said yes. The next day, Kieran woke up with a pounding headache, but his heart was full. He spent the day fixing up a yacht, dreaming of his future with Greta.
In the end, Kieran and Greta fell deeply in love and got married on the deck of a super yacht, surrounded by their friends and family. Kieran still enjoyed his drinks, but he never forgot the night he fell in love with the beautiful Hooters waitress in Hamburg.
Having infamously divorced myself from Social media and other more physical annoyances. I do want to use this place a bit differently. I did take a few photos yesterday after I made it through the tunnel. Hamburg reminds me of Berlin. I shall be posting more photos and things as I see fit.
So I am safely over jetlag and very busy at my new job. Something nice about this position is that we get one day off a week. Yesterday I went for a walk into the city and this involved finding a tunnel under the river. I managed to completely miss the tunnel entrance and get a bit lost but that is all part of being somewhere you have never been.
https://theselines.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/These-Lines-Logo-Slim-White.png00El Dracohttps://theselines.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/These-Lines-Logo-Slim-White.pngEl Draco2022-11-13 05:12:122022-11-13 15:52:12I went for a walk
Land is not what I remember. I quickly surmised that years of working on the sea has tarred me with a salty coating, not easily shaken. “A Pirate in a sea of Cowboys” was a phrase I coined. I quit my job back in August and then entered a deeply contemplative state with bouts of festering. This was assisted by a Buddhist philosophy course. Attachment is the source of suffering, and I am still attached to the sea and travel it appears. My path back to my previous career was chosen carefully. I consulted other marine denizens and people I love on strategies for managing such a caper. After months of applying for interesting jobs on land, it was satisfying to get positive feedback on my CV and I have accepted an interesting project.
The vessel is shrouded in secrecy, but I am happy to be returning to Europe and the City I shall be based in has a rich history that will be fun to write about. I am a little unhappy to be lurching into my Fourth Winter in a row but I will not miss the traffic or the festering.
