From New York to Hong Kong, with several countries in between. 2000.

Dear Readers. 

So here I sit, way down at the back of a Turkish Airlines A340. My originally allocated seat had a very low number, in fact the front bulkhead, which I looked at when I left the a/c and there had been an infant there too, so a lucky escape. I suggested to my new best friend Anita (from Korean Air, but she was Hispanic – are you still with me ? Korean does Turkish Airlines check in at JFK and I have a Korean bag tag to prove it), so I suggested that I might be better off to move back and within seconds she had advised that the flight was barely 50% full and I was welcome to go to the rear, which was A GOOD DEAL I would have 4 seats to myself. And being an A340, the back is still much quieter than the equivalent on a B747.

I bounced off the Lufthansa lounge in case my best mate Helga was there, but remembered that she has had Fri and Sat off since before Hitler first asked for an upgrade. Without her, I knew there was no hope of being asked in for some Apfelsaft or stronger, so I bowed out.

Turkish Airlines started to board the flight a cool 50 mins before departure, which given the load, seemed a trifle early and they all shot on pronto, so at departure time -30, I think I was the only person left outside the aircraft. It seems to be a totally Turkish load of pax, so good to be the odd man out. They travel VERY heavy of course. The check in had looked more like the loading dock at Macy’s and I had my friend Anita laughing when I apologised for only having one bag. The crew is quite senior – Madame la Purser has MANY MILES behind her and a face full of heavy pancake makeup (almost Aunt Jemima thick) to prove it.  She has patrolled throughout the cabin a couple of times to make sure we are all behaving ourselves. I wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of her.

The meal was about what you would expect. They may be in an interchange program with Ansett, as I think it was a modified version of AN Rubber Chicken No.3, sans everything that the Oz’s may have put in to make it interesting. The chix may have been escapees from Chicken Run, as mine had certainly done a lot of running and then had fallen foul of an oriental cleaver, which had managed to dismember it in a way unknown to westerners. You really do have travel on the local carriers to appreciate the finer points of life. Everyone within my eye parameters was scoffing it down with glee.  Best thing to drink on Turkish is Sour Cherry Juice… sounds bizarre but it is totally delicious.

My original plan had been to go on Austrian Airlines via Vienna, but they did a sked change which gave me a much longer than necessary wait there (and having checked out their lounge last week, going the other way), it’s not worth the effort, unless you remember to take a barf bag off the a/c. Then you can fill it with toothsome Mozart Chocolates from the big bowl there. ‘Take as many as you want’ they trilled, when I politely asked.

Now morning – my little blue pill did the trick for laying me out (and I’m still woozy to prove it). Good thing I just go to the hotel and the rest of the day is mine, so weather permitting, I shall stroll the town and see what is what.

Huge new terminal building on arrival in Istanbul.  Acres of polished marble, with the obligatory sweepers pushing long brooms at that certain airport open spaces sweeper speed – they are the same the world over (and probably have conferences in Vegas to discuss abstract thoughts of cleaning or ’The broom – history, part one’ etc.) Anyway, I was through in a flash and to the bank to obtain some of the dreaded money. Turkish lira has gone into the even BIGGER numbers game and they just defeat me. When you receive 638,000 for just one dollar, then you are in the millions immediately and the notes have too many zeros on them, complicated by x of them with capital O’s followed by more as small o’s, so I am in permanent state of befuddlement. Rather like Yanks were in the old days in the UK, when asked for 3 pounds 2 and tuppence. I need a small person attached to me to handle finances (and if my room has a VCR, he/she can cope with that too).

Found a cheerful chappie taxi driver to bring me downtown. He had a little English and was very keen to use it. Only problem was that it was so fractured that I had a hard time in having any clue just what he was trying to say. Eventually I feigned sleep to shut him up. With one eye open, I could admire the sweeping promenade leading around the shore line. In the distance, a sea of minarets shooting skywards. They like them long and thin here. From a distance, they look like tall spears of skinny asparagus. It is Sunday morning, so as Turkey has a foot in both east and west, the place was fairly peaceful.

The Four Seasons welcomed me back with true grace and the all-smiling doorman coped with my paying the taxi and whisked me in.  There was a couple standing there who were obviously leaving the hotel and they took my vehicle.  I only got a quick glance at them, but I am having one of those ‘I should know who you are …’moments. One hour later, it was Alan Greenspan, chairman of the Federal Reserve.  I hope he got on better with the taxi driver’s English than I did.

Inside it’s just a small oasis of coolth. My registration card all completed and would I like a cuppa while my room was prepared?  Not much option I suppose, short of camping outside the room itself. Nice lounge, with Mozart 39th symphony for background music – what more did I need? And good coffee and little petits fours too. Hence the time to sit here and survey the scene. As the hotel is right in the middle of all the best sightseeing, it is obviously much visited by anyone walking past, thus fun to watch some of the lesser specimens, who would certainly NEVER be staying here, giving it the once-over. They come in because all the guide books tell them that it was originally a prison. The staff are permitted to let them look just so far and then out you go.  Not much evidence now of folks being locked up.  Except in a retro-step, we do have keys to our cells and are trusted with them too.

Weather is mild – a bit grey – trees bare already – perfect for sightseeing.

A bit later – have been out and taken some air. All Istanbul is also out also for a Sunday afternoon stroll, so I can always just do some locals watching.  I sit happily in a pavement café with a beer and just watch. Ramadan is about to start, so the last chance for them to be eating and drinking in daylight.  There is a posh fish restaurant, spreading out on to the pavement, which is well patronized by the bourgeoisie. You could feel the ‘let’s enjoy this while we can..’ feeling.  Fish, in Istanbul, is always good, as they have both the Black Sea just up the road and are on the entrance to the Mediterranean.

Writing later, we survived our time in 1ST very nicely. The weather did not cooperate at all, so was either drizzling or really raining and blowing the whole time. I get the feeling that it always rains for me here, so if they ever have a drought, then send for TVG and the problem will be solved. As it was the start of the trip for the Stanford mob, they filtered in from all directions and I did a couple of  transfers from the airport. They are hard to miss in their red parkas – EVERYTHING for Stanford has to be red – they are besotted with it.

It was the first day of Ramadan on our second day there, so around the area between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, they have built a temporary shanty town of eateries, which come to life once the sun has set. A couple of us went for a walkabout later to check the scene. People crouched on exceedingly low seats, gossiping and enjoying themselves no end. The system is that you don’t eat all day and come sunset, about 1700, then you have what is really a very late lunch and then you have dinner at about 2300, so this was what we were seeing. Snacked on some good chewy loukum, or Turkish Delight to you perhaps – I’ve always been addicted to that. And then suddenly there was a huge, very noisy fireworks display. Great cannon shells bursting overhead with the largest of bangs – first night of Ramadan is big. I immediately realized that our punters, asleep close by, would be imagining they were under attack and getting themselves all into a dither, so we returned pronto and next morning discovered that had indeed happened and some had called the front desk for advice. You think they wudda noticed the sparkling stuff falling prettily from the sky. 

We ran them around the city for a couple of days, which was all good.  No one got lost, which is always a mercy, especially when it comes to wandering through the souks. Turkish guides are experienced and very sensible and they have some non-guide younger types who act as the bringers up of the rear.  As we split the groups into smaller factions, so they can go off in different directions  (that is what they have paid for, not a mass herd around), it takes a lot of folks to carry this all off.  I know I could just sit on the floor of Hagia Sophia and look at the arches and decoration and be very happy for hours.

So anyway, as the travelogues used to say, it was time to say Sayonara to Istanbul and head for Tehran. And I will also leave you also.   Lots more to come from a very different world.