Istanbul: My friend, my friend!

So the 19 hour train journey turns out to take 24 and a half. Surprisingly the trıp wasn't quite as bad as the extended hours suggest, I was fortunate to meet two Canadians (Tanya and Thea) on the train in the next compartment, their help was instrumental in stopping me from going insane stuck alone inside a small cabin that was more similar to the inside of a cramped but furnished prison than a train cabin.

But to be honest the train compartments reminded me of the Ian Flemming novel 'From Russia with love', the unfortunate thing was I going in the opposite direction, I did not have a Tatiana Romanova to share it with, and the tag line for my movie was not:

"JAMES BOND IS BACK! his new incredible women! his new incredible enemies! his new incredible adventures!"

Yes ladies and gentlemen my tag line read:

"BEN SMITH IS GOING TO ISTANBUL! his new friends the Canadian backpackers! his only enemy the hot and sweaty confined cabin where the the air conditioning does not work! his incredibly new sweat soaked nothing to pass the time boredom!

However, after minimal hassle from the infamous Bulgarian border guards and maximum train going forwards and then backwards and then forwards again we finally arrived in Istanbul.

Being my normally organised self I had no idea where I was or how to get to the hostel that I had booked, this obviously is not a wise thing in a sprawling city of millions upon millions. Fortuitously lady luck blind as she is guided me miraculously in the right direction.

I never knew that I had so many friends until I walked in to the Sultanahmet district of Istanbul. Seriously. Calls of "My friend, my friend, where you from?" called from... well everywhere! People clamour around to give directions or take me there themselves and to give their recommendations of the various hostels on offer, of course my pessimistic mind knows that the directions they give me have a carpet shop stop on the way and the recommendations come from the people employed to scout for customers. However this knowledge does not dampen my spirits as its great to just walk around and talk to people after being confined to quarters for the last day.

So after a fair amount of "Kia ora, Kia ora, hey Kiwi, free apple tea, no obligation to buy, have a seat my friend, what kind of carpet do you like" I make it to my hostel and check in exhausted.

Meeting up with the Canadians for dinner we go to a roof top restaurant with views of the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofia, and the mighty Bosphorus. The meal itself wasn't very memorable but the view is what we were paying for. A few drinks later we head back to the roof top bar on top of my hostel with a surprisingly even better view, we drink and swap travel stories until late.

The following morning I head off in search of some tee-shirts as the European summer has rotted the few remaining ones I have and I get sidetracked by those carpet salesmen again. A shitload of apple tea, a beer and a kebab later (all free of course) they finally understand that when I say "I'm not going to buy a carpet whatever the price" that I mean it and not that I actually want a lower price.

Finally hitting the Grand Bazaar I bargain for some "Raybans" sunglasses. I'm trying them on in the mirror and a man says

"You like, You like?"

and I reply "Yeah, how much?"

"Eighty seven lira, fixed price"

I laugh and say "I only have ten"

"twelve" he replies "because you are my first customer today" - keep in mind that its 2pm and crawling with tourists since opening.

"Deal" I say walking away "thinking" I got a deal.

I wander past a kebab shop that I ate at the previous day and I get the usual "my friend, my friend very good cheap food"

I reply "yes I know I ate here yesterday" at which the owner pipes up from the back "yes yes my kiwi friend, for you today freshly squeezed orange juice, as much as you can drink! on the house!"

Well I'm sold.

Istanbul photos here: