Now it's Istanbul... (late post)

Or better known as "Veni, Vedi, Shoppi," David's trip to the Grand Bazaar. No, I won't bore you with the details. It's one of those places that despite the overblown tourist scamfest that it is, the deeper you go, the more rewarded you will be. Whether it's painted tiles, copper, silver or goldworking, antiques, meerscham pipes or carpets, the best in Turkey ends up here. The goods won't be as cheap as in the village, the small town or at the farmer's back door. But the finest quality craftsmanship is saved for the Grand Bazzar.

Suprisingly little to say about Istanbul. We did a few things, saw a few things and were only left with the strong impression that it would take time to scratch the surface.

Still, I'm left with mental images, these vignettes that play over again in my mind's eye.
The ferry dock at night. People rushing for the last ferry across the Bosphorus. Everywhere people selling greasy fish sandwiches, mostly from feeble-looking boats rocking crazily in the churned-up water at dockside. Acrid smoke billowing, people yelling, groups huddled around low, plastic tables and chairs stuffing their faces with raw onions and the oily fish. Venders line both sides of the wide pedestrian street that serves as the ferry dock. Mostly the usual crap: Knock-off jeans, Zippo lighters, homemade Turkish pop CDs. But there is also a long line of short, wide-faced men squatting around blankets filled with leather good and sheepskin vests and hats. The Asian faces, leathery skin, sheepskin jackets mark them as Central Asian herders... in town to sell the winters production I suppose?

From the same ferry dock the next day, we took a short trip up the Bosphorus. Including missing our stop and refusing to get off the boat. In typically Turkish fashion, after yelling at us, the security guard sat us down and made the cafe attendent make us coffee while he joked with the janitor and harrassed the poor cafe guy. Then helped us off the ferry at their last stop, directed us towards the bus and waved goodbye.

It's a crazy city with so many centers. Like New York, LA or Mexico City I'm sure. We took our tour of the Galatasaray neighborhood-- for you soccer fans out there-- and watched the hip and sophisticated go about their socializing and shopping, and finally found our own place where we could have a beer in public.

It's no suprising that a city of 17 million people is a rotten, terrible, scary, dangerous and just plain stupid place to bike out of--no matter how early you get up.