Eminonu and Suleyman Cami

We both woke up at 6:00, refreshed, had breakfast and went to the village to take the ferry to Eminomu. The ferry clerk was very unhelpful, telling us there were no boats to town. As we waited, a smaller ferry sailed up, and we hopped on as it was heading to Ortakoy, Besiktas and eminomu. We had a great ride, good pictures, though it was cool, because of the breeze. We got off at the Galata Bridge, and wound our way up to Suleyman, a delightful walk because the streets were narrow and colorful, though nothing like last Saturday; we should nevercome to the city on Saturday. We picked up some mixed nuts, maras biber, lemon pepper, and various evil eyes along the way, taking about an hour to get to Suleyman, where we are now sitting, drinking tea at a restaurant, in the shade, with a lovely breeze. Along the way we small the following: ktichen wares, delis, maniquiins, tea and coffee, olive shops, spcies, shoe shine kits, lighters, suits, luggage, It was a delightful morning to walk, browse, no hurry and not many people, at least not like last week. Everything around the outside of the spice bazaar seemed cheaper and wonderful, whether fish, cheese, spices, or other food stuffs…a great area to walk and not busy. Unfortunatley, when we got to Suleiman, it was closed, as John has said, so we were able to only enter part of the grounds, and a bit of the antechamber, but not the mosque proper, which was very disappointing. We stayed only a short time, and mosyed around the area for a bit, mostly a unintersting, more modern area, just below the university. We ended up eating at the same place we had tea, Kanaat Lookantasi Kuru Fasulyeci; the specialtiy, obviously is kury fasulye, and it it wonderful, served with a hot pepper in the bowl. The restaurant is packed, and of the five restaurants in a row, just outside the mosque, everyone specializes in kuru falsuye. Again, it’s a beautiful day, especially for eating outside, a nice breeze, not to hot yet, as people, mostly Turks, enjoy their lunch outside. We ended up staying for Turkish coffee and tel kadife, shredded wheat with sugar syrup. The bill was 28 liras mostly because of the dessert which cost 7 lira, the coffee, which all added up. We then worked our way down through alleys, as the streets were much more crowded in the afternoon, and the Galata Bridge was, as usual, a mass people moving in all directions, with hawkers, food stelles, interspered everywhere. Thank goodness they have walk ways that go under the street, or to the other side of the bridge, otherwise it would be a nightmare. We took the tram to Kabatas, the bus make to the village, shopped briefly at Migros and went home. We worked on pictures, took a cat nap, and went for a walk to Bebek between 5:30 and 6:30. We took the next hour and a half to get ready to go out with the RC grads, as the car was picking us up at 8:00

Hagia Sophia

For some reason, we are both loggy this morning, perhaps too wine last night, so we didn’t head off till around 9:30, taking the bus to Kabatas, the tram to Hagia Sophia. It was a warm day, and such a convenient way to get downtown. The tram also stops at the Kapali Carsi so one can stay on it one more stop to get there Hagia Sophia was a bit disappointing because of he huge scaffolding right in the center, under the dome. It obstructed the marvelous sense of airyness and openess that I remember. We waited for about five minutes to get tickets, put our bags through an x ray before going in, and joined the throngs inside. Something is lost we the crowds but you still get a sense of the artistry and building masters who put this toether in the 5th century BCE. It’s mostly marble, cobble stoned floors, marble columns, mosaics on the wall, many covered by the Ottonmans, plus drab frescoes, mostly designs, so I am not sure when they were done. The most obtrusive part, which I remember from thirty years ago, are four huge, perhaps 20-30 in diameter, disks, placed up high, with arabic script. It just doesn’t belong here anymore since it is a museum, not a muslim holy place. We are now sitting in a lovely shaded café, facing the Blue mosque, a oasis in this hot day. I love tea houses like this, even if there are lots of tourists using it. Fortunately, it’s another cloudless, blue day, so I should not complain about ti being hot. Later in the afternoon, around 6:00, we walked to Bebek and back, a lovely night to walk, had a dinner at home of salad and Hasan’s pasta, and relaxed watching CNN. About 8:30, I got hungry for a tatli, so I went to Migros, picked up two sutlac’s and brought them home, less than a dollar for each one. They were quite nice, as we went to bed by 9:30.

Besiktas dinner in Sariyer with Zeki

Spent the morning on the RC campus, and wrote it up in my RC diary. Right now, we are sitting in a lovely tree shaded tea house in Besiktas, where we have been roaming for about two hours. It’s more the old city, not very touristy, with lots of shops, closed streets, and a wonderful fishmarket surrounded by fish restaurants, much like we found in Fethiye. The streets, like elsewhere, are cobblestoned and windy, so that I lost my bearings, and ending walking away from the sea, rather than towards it. That never used to happen when I lived it. Fehmi called, and we are going out tonight around 8:00 to a restaurant in Sariyer.
We left for the restaurant about 7:45 and it took us quite awhile to wind our way along the Bosphorus all the way to Sariyer, with constant chatter of our driver, Ates Bey. As usual, he seems full of energy, talks non stop and it fun to be with. We ended up eating at a restaurant set above the water in Sariyer, and though it was quie large, there seemed to be only two other parties during the evening. It was a wonderful Turkish meal, and everything seemed to have been planed, starting with mezze for the first hour or so, then a final fish, followed by dessert and coffee. Battal, Fehmi, Ates, Ahmet and Bulent Karpat, an older player and tv announcer, a friend of Battal, were there with Zeki coming a bit later, as well as Izzet from Galata saray and Hasan Arat, a younger player from Besiktas who is now a very wealthy investor and exporter of textiles to the US. He was fun to talk to, as he remembere me playing, as we was a teenager at the time. He has a son going to Fordham, who plays water polo, and he was able to show pictures on his phone. He said he had been talking with his buddy, the ownder of the Four Seasons hotel, and he told him he was going out with Besiktas Tom, and he remembered me and wants to take us out to dinner. He also called so one, to tell them I was in town, and they wanted to know if I still had my mini van. A small world. It was really good to see Zeki…according to the players, he never comes to any of the gatherings and they had not seen him in years, so it was really an honor to have him show up. He looks good, played till he was in his later 40’s and seemed to enjoy the gathering. I am beginning to feel sorry for Ates and Mine, as they have to pick us up, and suffer through these things, even though they don’t drink, and Ates dislikes fish. He gets tired, as he says, of the palaver of the guys after a couple of rakis. I had a good talk with Ahmet; he really seems to be very social conscious, wants to make Turkey, especially its youth better. He wants me to send him pictures of my family so he can show others how important family is too us. He also put pictures from our last dinner on his web site and I received the award for the most healthy looking of the crew, a dubious honor no doubt. After numerous hugs and pictures, and lots of food, we were the first ones to leave, getting home around 11:30. It was a great night, with extraordinary food, grilled sardines to begin with salad, melon, and cheese, then calamari, then boreks of two or three different kinds, eggplant salad, seaweed salad of a sort, then lufer for each, my favorite fish (I am getting better at eating the whole fish with out making a mess, as there is an art of fileting it, picking out the center bones). At times, it’ hard because we don’t talk Turkish, so there are interludes where we just sit and listen to them tell stories; then one will look up and fill us in on what has been happening. Evie took lots of pictures, but I forgot too, so there may be only a few of her with the team. As usual, when we left, everyone was trying to make plans for the next time we get together and no one can agree; there was talk of going to the Princess Islands for the day, to Buyukada, but who knows where we will end up. Ahmet and Nikki want to have us over as does Fehmi and Florette, as does Mustafa Dilber and Leyla. Suddenly, we are very popular, so we ought to warn Linda and Ron. Fehmi also remembers holding Jill, patting her on the back, telling her he would marry her one day.

Lunch at Karaca in Rumeli Hisar with Ates/Mustafa Dilber

We woke around 7:30, relaxed for an hour, had yogurt, and then we walked for little over an hour to Hisar, just beyong the Bosphorus University campus, had a lunch of menemen at the Kale Cay Bachesi, as we watched the ferries bring tourists along the sea to see the various sights, especially Rumeli Hisar. It is always entertaining to walk the Bosphorus promenade, from Kurucesme to just beyong Hisar, all walk ways along the water. Hundreds of people are fishing, jogging, walking, with wives, chidlren, or with their dogs. Hawkers are selling fishing equipment, food like simits, and there are small huddles of fishermen, that I mentioned on an earlier day. One thing I forgot to mention was perhaps the most innovate business man; as we walked along the Bosphorus, with saw a line of about 20-30 balloons, a few yards of the edge of the bank, in the water. We were puzzled as to what they were until we go closer and saw they were targets for, I assume, some kind of pellet or bebe gun. For a price, you could see how many ballons you could break. Marvelous. We are meeting Ates, Mine, and Mustapha Dilber and his wife Leyla, for an early lunch. He is a professor from Bosphorus University; I knew him slightly from before and actually went to see him talk at KSU one evening, probably twenty years ago. I assume he teaches business or economics of a sort, and has taught in the US at times as well.
Ates picked us up with Mustafa, and we headed into Hisar to eat at Karaca, or Osman Bey’s from the old days. They had a table set for us upstairs, windows open, overlooking the water. The meal was more or less settled, as usual, beginning with a great salad, melon and bread; then the eggplant puree to finish the first course. Then, we had calamari and fried mussels, to set us up for our main course, a fish of our choice, in this case my favorite, lufer, grilled and sweet and mosit. After the fish, we had crème d’mint, then kave, then melon, grapes, pears, apples and helva, a Turkish sweet. We sat there and talked for at least two hours, as Mustafa is a neat guy, retired but still teaching three or four hours a day. His wie, Leyla, is very interesting as well. At the end of the meal, we thought we were heading home but Ates had other ideas, tea and sweets at his sister in law’s sons house, about 15 minutes from the city. They live in a gate community, a lovely home, landscaped with grass and a swimming pool, one of the kinds of communities that are springing up for white collar workers. This is actually the first single home family house with a yard that I have seen in Turkey. We had tea, of course, cheese, bread, the brownies and cheese cake to finish up. We had to leave early unfortunatley but the nephew was going to our village at the same time, so he was able to take us, driving fast but under control, through narrow back streets to avoid the traffic. Once again, we had an amazing day, a great walk, meal, conversation, and fun. We returned exhausted although it’s only six so we probably will not go out again tonight, just stay in an relax.

Taksim and Beyoglu

We relaxed thi morning, got caught up on housekeeping. Pictures, and emailing, and headed off by bus to Taksim; on the bus, we met a women who grew up in New Jersey. She was in Istanbul for a year, tryin to set up a business, arranging for students to come to the states for 3 months and learn Englsh. She did not seem to like Istnbul much and wished she were back in the States. The bus was very crowded and we had to wait quite a while because most of them go to Kabatas. We packed ourselves in, like sardines, hung on and were in Taksim in about 15 minutes. The square, of course is unrecognizable, much larger than I remember, the streets go in all directions, and I was not even sure I was on Cumhurriet until I saw the Hilton. They have closed off many of the streets around the square, making it a walkers paradise. Thus, we are sitting at a café, having tea, and kaymakli baklava. The square is filled with tea houses, hawkers, and various other stalls, as it’s still the center of the city. Evie took a picture of the patissserie, as the delights look eatingly, a new word. It seems so strange to walk around in a city you once new so well, on streets you walked hundreds of times, and now feel lost. I am not even sure where Istiklal caddesi begins. It is so nice to be able to sit down, relax with a tea when pooped, and then move on and explore. We ate our baklava at Muhammed Said’s Baklavaci. We have walked down almost to the end of Istiklal Caddesi, the main shopping street in the Galata side of Istanbul. They have turned, what was a street when I was here, into a walking mall, filled with shops of all prices on either side, large small, retail, restaurant, chai house, you name it, they have it. We stopped in a posh store called Mavi, then Bun Design, and ending eating just next to the British consulate at a pide/kebab place. It was kind of neat because, sitting next to us, was an official from the consulate, so we ended up eating and talking with him. He has been here for a year, resides in Tarabya, and ran their last evening, from his office, taking little of two hours, he said. On the 18th of October, there will be a run across the Bosphorus Bridge, or you can walk the 8km fun run, starting at 9:30. We ended up winding our way down to a café, right neat the Galata Tower, just off of what I will call Musical Instrument street, shops all selling things having to do with intstruments. At Paschabachi (famous glass) we were looking at evil eyes in various forms. An elderly gentleman asked me if I knew what they symbolized and told him yes. He said he didn’t believe in them (in somewhat broken English) and that all people are basically good unless they prove otherwise. He thought that displaying the evil eye outside your home was displaying distrust in other people. As I sat here writing, I just realized the Galata Tower is rising up behind us. I guess I must have missed it, sitting down. It is fun just sitting here watching the people go by, trying to figure out what their nationality is, what their relationship is to each other. It’s so nice to be able to sit down, have a tea, write a bit, talk, then be on our way. What a city Istanbul has become, great for the locals, great for tourists. We continued our walk down to Kadikoy, next to the Galata Bridge, hoping to get a ferry boat back to the village. No luck, so we had to take a bus to Ortakoy, another one to Kurucesme. We met a guy who worked in the state for an 800 number company; he says he remembers USA-800. After 9/11, all the call centers went to India so he is back in Istanbul teaching English, a good guy and left us his card. We stopped at Migros, got the ingredients for Hasan’s pasta, stopped at a café just beyond the RC gate, and had a beer for 8 liras, about eight dollars. It was not worth it. We had a great dinner, watch CNN and Evie worked on pictures.

A Day of Contrasts: Spice Bazaar and Istinye Park Mall

We were up by 7:00, checked my email, wrote a couple of replies, and then, as Evie worked on the pictures, I put on my ipod and walked to Bebek and back, picking up bread and a simit on the way back. What a wonderful walk it is, as fisherman line the promendade between the two villages, mostly the wealthy seem to be out for walks or runs, even with dogs, and fisherman huddled around little tables, sharing a breakfast of tea, hard boiled eggs, beyaz peynir, tomatoes, and the like. How long them have been there, I am not sure, perhaps all night, as they make their living by renting fishing equipment. I wish I had my camera as one older man, lay on the bench, fishergear nearby, dozing, no doubt having been there most of the day and night. I came home, showered, and started today’s entry, with Bosphorus gleaming in the window. We went into the city, taking bus to Kabatas, then the tram into the city, getting off at Karakoy. We walked across the bridge to the Yeni mosque an water front, where four or five fishing boats, huge and decorated in Ottoman style, cook fish and offer a fish and bread sandwich. The waiters are dressed in Turkish costumes, so it attracts lots of tourists. Then, we went into the Spice Bazaar, much the same, but with less spice and more stories selling various sundries. We bought some urga biber, thought we got taken, but found out we got the cadilac of the spice, if we are to believe the seller. The streets are packed with shoppers, more than I can ever remember, and it never let up, whether the main or side street. No wonder there are 16 million people in Turkey. We mostly looked, rarely stopping to shop, just people watching and we would not know where to begin with buying, as we have so much stuff from our previous stay. We ended up at the Brothers Jewelery, a place we used to go and recommended by Eptings. We talked with Yusuf for over an hour, had tea, and eventually we each bought a puzzle ring, He remember me, for sure, as he was able to tell a funny story about a five foot friend being called Tom Davis because he had long hair like me. We then went and ate in our old restaurant, Havuzlu in the Bazaar, and had wonder doner and an eggplant dish, just as I remember. We then headed home, the same way, through even more people; the crowds of shoppers don’t stop, various sizes, mostly lower middle class, many dressed in black with burkhas, a shock at first to see as well as many women, with boy friends often, with scarves on. We took the tram back to Kabatas, waited quite awhile for the bus, and got back about three. About three thirty, Ates called and wondered if we wanted to go to Istinye Park. We thought it would be fun, got ready to go to the park, only to find out it’s the largest, perhaps most chic as well. We were in a bit of a shock, as we wound our way up the circular parking mall to park our car; it had small red/green lights over the spot to let you know if there was an open space on the line. By the way, Ates was his usual self, talking non stop, making jokes and showing or telling us about everything we were passing, especially the Little Manhattan which we passed. Getting back to the mall, we walked around, amazed by the modernity of its architecture and clientele. It’s clear there is lots of money in Istanbul. The upper level is out side, with a glass restaurant in the middle of a square, surrounded by the biggest names in shopping, from DeBeers, to Louise Vitton, Jimmy Chou, and so on. A couple of Ferraris were parked in front of some of the stores, and everyone was out to look good and be seen, or so it seemed. We walked around, went in one store to return something, where Ates knew the salespeople, introduced us, and told him all about us. The salesperson was very nice, seemed pleased to see us. Ates then took us to an upper scale store called Vakko, where Mine seems to shop a lot. We were once again, introduced to all the salespeople and treated to capuccino. We then were taken to the food court, for anything we might want, from sushi, to Turkish food, to Pop Eyes, to Burger King, to chinese, to whatever. We then went to the indoor market, a marvelous area of the most amazing goodstuffs, organic products, surrounded by restautrants. We ended up eating a fish restaurant, picking out the our to be grilled, from the market, and eating it. We loved the hamsi, or sardines, fried, and both Evie and I had lufer, which was really fine, easy to eat though an entire fish, not fishy, light and tasty. As we sat there, at least three or four different couples walked by, knew Ates, and stopped by to talk and be introduced to us. It’s amazing, as everywhere we go, people know our Turkish friends. We then walked back through the mall, ran into two basketballers I remember, both in their 60’s, and we got pictures, Absurdly, Atex and one of the players seemed to get upset about an incident between them that happened forty years ago, where Ates supposedly told the guy he ‘fucked his mother,’ and Ates says the guy was always grabbing his privates. Ates would not admit he said it; the guy would not back down and they really started raising therr voices until Nur told me to take that crazy Ates away, which I did. Only in Turkey. As we wound our way out, we had to stop for sweets and I finally had some firin sutlac, or milk pudding which I love. In fact, Mine made me get another to take home because I liked it so much. We then drove home via the Bosphorus, down back narrow streets to the main Bosphorus road, then on to our apartment. We stayed up till 11”00, as Evie worked on pictures and I read and watched CNN. It was certainly a day of stark contrasts, the old city, with its mass of people, colors, shops stuffed together and narrow alleys, and Istiny Park, with its well appointed stores like Vendi, its wide avenues, wealthy families, with children, filling a Saturday evening at the mall, shopping and people watching, and being watched.

Mall Hopping/Dinner with Ates

As usual, Ates (my Besiktas teammate) had called the other day, said he would pick us up at noon on Friday, but didn’t go into details. Earlier he had mentioned visiting one of his daughters, who has a boat, perhaps taking a boat trip, so we thought there was a possibility of that, and brought along jackets. Well, once we got into the car, he announced we were going to visit two more malls today, one called Kanyon, which suggests its outer shape of looking like a ship with sails. It turned out to be a beautiful curve mall from the outside, with wonder shapes and lines, circular inside, so you walked around a larger inner core, mostly open, and the stores were on the outside of the circle, if that’s clear. We continued to make jokes about Mavi jeans, because Julia had said she loved these jeans. So, of course, we had to look for a Mavi jean store but first we went to eat at the food court, Turkish version, which actually has a Mc Donald’s, but many other marvelous trendy looking spots, from sushi to Turkish to Chinese, all filled during the lunch hour with prosperous looking people, all Turks. As Ates confirmed, and as we thought to ourselves over the past week, all Turks do is eat. Everywhere we have been, restaurants, whether in tourists or normal areas, seem full of people, eating, drinking, conversing, whatever hour of the day, whether noon, early evening or night. It seems to never stop. Anyways, we went to get doner kebab at Saray, a restaurant supposedly owned by the mayor of Istanbul, a friend of Mine’s, though it was once a great restaurant in Taksim when we lived here…we may have gone there. We ordered Iskender kebab, which has pita, meat, tomato sauce and yogurt. Of course, Ates wants us to try everything on the menu even though we try to say NO…which is impossible. He won’t listen. He insisted on ordering me a special yogurt, which is made from Buffalo milk, and I must agree, it was the best I have ever had, thick, creamy, sweet almost, like eating the very best of puddings. Our Iskender’s came and they were wonderful, just what we were hankering for. We had eaten iskenders a couple of days ago but the meat was tough, the kebab so. This was the best, great meat, tomato sauce, yogurt on the side, thick so they could serve it as a slab. Of course, we were full by the end of the meal, but it did not end. Ates made us go up to the counter that had all sorts of sweets and we had to order something. I got egmek kadaife, which is basically a bread soaked in honey with kaymak on top (the crème of a buffalo, which is my favorite). Evie order a Su Borek, which is something similar to a noodle borek, with cheese but it’s made from phyllo dough, or in Turkish yukfa. Needless to say, we ate hardly more than half of our desserts…they are sitting in our refrigerator right now as we had to take doggy bags home. We left home around noon, and it was now 2:00. So we went out to see the other mall shops, ended up in a wonderful glass store called Pasabachce, where we admired the various glass works. I made the mistake of deciding to buy an evil eye on a stand. Mine (Ates’ wife) heard me order it, grabbed the salesperson, and insisted on buying it for us. No matter our protestations…it was a done deal; we now had a beautiful evil eye for our house So, on we went, with Ates leading the way, to mostly high end stores like Harvey Nichols, a London based store, like Saks. Nothing was affordable but we could look. We finally went to a stationary store where we bought some paints and sketches books for Lara, their 8 year old granddaughter, a cutie who reminds us so much of Marisa in personality and looks. We did go to Mavi jeans, to look for a tee shirt for me with Istanbul written on it, but they had only one I liked and the XL was too small. Evie did get a black ¾ length blouse or tee, in wonderful cotton, with the Istanbul skyline and the words Istanbul beneath, as if reflected in water. It looks really good on her. So we continued our stroll; Ates and I usually let the ladies go in a store, and we would sit down outside, as Ates has a bad knee and limps quite a bit. He says this is what he does with his days. He is a chauffeur for his wife; she goes in a mall, he finds a coffee shop and tells her to come back in two hours. And there are coffee shops in all the malls, either Starbucks, or another chain called Gloria Jeans, which is all over Europe. It is fun to be with Ates as he talks with eveyrone, as if they are his good friends, whether the waiter, a salesperson, or just someone who is standing around the mall, like us. We then left Kanyon about 4:00 and went to a mall slightly older and smaller. Either Evie or I had mentioned dish washing detergent, which was mistake number two, after admiring the evil eye. That led us after browsing another mall, this one with Marx and Spencer, and London based department store, to Migros, a grocery store, looking for dishwashing detergent. AS we entered, Ates said, why don’t you come to our house for fish…of course we tried to say no, it was too much trouble, etc, to no avail, so they called their maid, and we bought sweets, salmon, vegetables, bulgar, wine, all we might need for dinner and headed to Ates’s apartment for high tea, then dinner. On the way, he said why not invite Mustafa and his wife Leyla too, a couple we had had dinner with last week, a teacher at Bosporus University, who I had known back in the RC days. When we arrived at Ates apartment, he would not let us bring the groceries in…the maid would come and get them. So, we went up, and he immediately took us to his granddaughter’s room; she had just returned from school. She was sitting on her bed, eating a snack of crackers, cheese, and tomatoes. Lovely. We then relaxed for a few minutes, while Mine and the maid got high tea ready. We sat down around their glass coffee table, in a very formal living room for cheese, three kinds, tomatoes, then chocolate brownie cake, and cookies. Needless to say, we were still full from lunch, but we ate as much as we could, talked, and had two or three cups of tea. By this time, it was arranged for Mustafa to come, so Ates and I went to pick him up, about ten minutes away via back alleys and some roads. While I was gone, Mine showed Evie pictures of their wedding, things like that, mostly of her and her family, none of Ates and her, which was strange. I guess this is tradition…as Ates said, they have all kinds of pictures of her parents, none of his because that is the custom, only the wife’s parents pictures are on display. We all sat down on their third floor apartment balcony, with chips, walnuts and apricots as snacks, talked, drank wine, and Ates got out his old photo albums, of the Besiktas days and when he was in high school and college. We took about an hour to go through them and talk, which was fun. Evie also pulled out our computer to show them pictures from the last dinner, our dinner with Mustafa and his wife, and a picture of Marisa, to show them how much she reminded us of Lara. Ates kept pulling pictures out that he was going to photocopy for me. Briefly, Ates’ oldest daughter stopped in(the divorced mother of Lara), said hello, remembers her father always telling to her about ‘the legend’ Tom Davis. She was soon off to dinner and no doubt a club with friends; I get the feeling that Ates and Mine do most of the parenting. After we were about finished, Lara came out with two huge albums of her baby pictures, sat on my lap, and Evie and I went through them with her, even though we could not communicate very well. She really took to Evie and by the end of the night, she clung to her life clue, in fact, she drove back to our apartment with us at 10:30, just to be with her. After photographs and snacks, we sat down to an elaborately set table, of china and silverware, and various colored small stones scattered on the table as a design, and had a dinner of salmon, with tomato sauce on top, and salad. As we were eating our first course, we could not help but notice how meticulously Lara was eating her dinner, taking apart the fish with fork and knife, carefully, to make sure there were no bones, pushing together every last bite of her bulgur pilaf, also with knife and fork. Ates proudly mentioned how wonderful she eats, where as her cousins eat like animals with their hands. She is no doubt Ates’ favorite and he is her favorite, always hugging and kissing him. After we finished the salmon and salad, our plates were taken away by the maid, another plate set, and we were served bulgur pilaf, which looked like large grains of rice flavored with tomato. It was also served in a cake form, so it was sliced and put on our plates. Then, we were served eggplant with tomatoes, kind of a stew that was done in the oven. Together, they made a tasty second course, and I even had seconds on both. After that, we had dessert, more brownie cake and chocolate ice cream, finishing it all with Turkish coffee. We listened most of the night to oldiest from the sixties, Nat King Cole, Frank Sinatra, Tom Jones, and Mustafa and Ates knew almost all of the words to the songs, singing them as we talked and ate. Their favorite and ours, now, was called I Know What It is Like to Be Young, and older song sung by Orson Wells, but they also have a Turkish version. The lyrics are very apt for old men like us. We talked quite a bit with Leyla, Mustafa’s wife, his fourth by the way, who had been to the US quite often, as she had worked for various hotels, and she had gone to summer school at Cornell’s Hotel Management School. Because Mustafa was teaching in Izmir Saturday (he flies there every Saturday), they wanted to leave early as it was 10:30, so Ates took us all home, despite the protestations of Mine who wanted us to stay longer. Lara came with us; we dropped off Mustafa and Leyla, then we were taken home, said good bye to Ates and Lara, and went to bed around 11:30. I forgot to mention that while we were at Ates’, one of my other Besiktas teammates called and invited us for brunch on Sunday at a hotel in old Istanbul. That means we had lunch and dinner yesterday(Friday) with Ates, dinner tonight(Saturday) at Fehmi’s on the Asian side, with Ahmet and Nikki, then brunch tomorrow, Sunday with Faruk, his wife, and Ates and Mine. As you can see, we live a pretty busy life. We are slowly learning the ways here…to go prepared even though you think your visit might be for a couple of hours. Remember, it’s impolite to leave any food on the plate. If you mention you like something, it’ yours, whether a food, a place you want to visit, or a piece of art you find attractive. As Ates says, this is Turkish hospitality, their way of treating guests, so get used to it. They won’t change! By the end of the visit, we will feel, no doubt, a huge debt of gratitude, one that we cannot possibly hope of repaying because of their kindness and generosity.

A Lazy Day in Arnavutkoy and Bebek

Istanbul: September 24
I am now back in Istanbul; we left Gocek at 4:00 AM, Thursday morning, the 24th, and arrived at our flat about 6:00. It was an easy flight; Hasan has his driver pick us up in the morning and we went straight to our apartment. We both slept for a couple of hours, awoke around 10:30 AM, and have started getting things in order. Evie spent much of the day organizing photos, writing captions, and sending off some to the family. We did go out, about 2:00 to shop at Migros and Magros, two of the nicest grocery stores, and both our just a ten minute Bosphorus walk away. We were able to find most of what we wanted, of course, cheese, both beyaz and kasar, but also the makings for Hasan’s favorite pasta, garlic, onions, pine nuts, sundried tomatoes, and anchovies, with lots of parsley and garlic, early on, and as it is served on farfalle. It sounded good so we got the ingredients. We also found the drink we like, Martini and Rossi’s Bianco vermouth. We returned, relaxed for a couple of hours, took showers, and soon will go off to the village, for an hour, to have either tea or an apertif. We wil then head home, for a couple of drinks as we watch the sun set, and make dinner, mostly something simple, like tomatoes, onions, cheese, crackers, nuts, and perhaps, for dinner, a menemen, an omelet of beyay peynir and tomatoes. We are looking forward to having dinner at home, with sundowners, as they call them in South Africa. I actually think we will be to late for the sunset, as it’s already getting a bit darker, as the sun heads behind the hills to the right of our department view, meaning towards the West. We have walked to Bebek, are sitting at a chai house, just beyond the mosque, where the Divan pastisserie used to be. A lovely view of Bebek harbor, with restaurants and boats bobbing in the water, as the water begins to go from blue to gray. The chai house is filled with the well to do of Bebek, men in suits, well dressed mother’s with kid in strollers, and university students. Everyone is well dressed, as usual, and enjoying the late afternoon sunset. We stopped in the village before walking to Bebek, and picked up some pistachio’s, something we really enjoyed munching on at Hasans. I forgot to mention the fresh figs from his neighbor, perhaps I did. They were unlike any figs I have had before and I wonder why we didn’t eat more of them when we were here in the 70’s.

Final Day in Gocek, Turkey

We took it easy this morning, as we decided to have a leisurely day of beach, brief touring, and just relaxing. Once again, we had a marvelous breakfast, put together effortlessly, by Hasan, of fresh figs, cheeses, toast, simits, olives, jams and socuk, Turkish sausage. And Hasan made his mother’s favorite Sunday morning dish, inch size chunks of day old bread, fried until browned in a fry pan, then pour four or five scrambled eggs over the bread, and cook until done. It tasted wonderful…so simple, so good. After breakfast, I hiked up the hill behind Hasan’s villa, to see the various other orchards, the view, the wonderful wooded countryside of the mountain above. It reminded me of my days in Greece, camping in pine forests, either on hillsides or beaches. I returned after a half hour, took a swim, and then we took off, for a brief tour of the mountain villages that surround his town of Gokceovacik, Little Valley. Peasant homes are mixed with a few homes of foreigners, who have decided either to live her full time or just summers. From Hasan’s terrace, we can see perhaps three or four, so it is still basically an untouched valley. Hasan knows everyone, is treated, I think, like a pasha. He has donated money to create a full time infirmary and nurse for the village; he has helped the mayor’s son get a more safe police job, his daughter get a job teaching in the area, so he has lots of favors to draw on if necessary. The village mayor came over early morning, perhaps our first day, to let Hasan know an adjoining property was now available, so Hasan most likely will buy it, to keep other builders abey as well as perhaps a site for homes for his sons. We drove for perhaps a half hour, just getting a feel for life in the mountains, stopping briefly at the area which Germans and Italians once used to mine minerals, magnesium, I think. We then headed down to the Swissotel beach, relaxed, swam, and had lunch at the café on the water. At Hasan’s recommendation, I had the kofte, spiced, with salad, sauce and salad, and Evie has a wondeful salad of white asparagus, salad, tomatoes, etc. We went back to the beach for a couple of hours, took naps, swam, had watermeloed served to all beach goers, and went back to his house around five. We showed, downloaded pictures and relaxed for an hour before Selim and Maria came over for a good bye drink. She brought fried apples, battered, dropped in a fry pan, browned, and the dusted with sugar and cinnamon. They were really good, as was the Martini Rossi Bianco which we are developing a taste for. Hasan and Selim had campraina, the Brazilian version of a mojito, while Maria had tea, as she is three months pregrant. Selim, as usual, was amusing in a funny, often shocking way, always critical of just about everything. The two of them don’t seem to agree on much, with her correcting him in non stop, Eastern European English, and he responding back, often disagreeing. They are a interesting pair and seem to crave conversation, as I assume running a hotel in the mountains can be isolating and boring, especially if, as Selim suggests, all his clients are fat people from Great Britain, drinking only juice five times a day to lose weight. He kept telling stories of a good friend who he visits in Oklahoma, an oil baron, who also married a young Ukrainian girl from Kieve; he has very funny stories about their visit to Oklahoma, especially his trip to Dallas, which ended up with a stay at the airport hotel and quick return, without seeing a thing. We said our good buys, went down to Gocek for the last time, bough a dish by a famous Turkish plate painter, walked a bit, bid good evening to our almond cart seller (fresh almonds on ice) and ate our final meal at our favorite spot, the West Café. A great white wine, a seafood pasta for me, Caesar salad for Evie, and a beautiful evening made it a perfect final meal. Hasan, as usual, had lots of stories, of people who knows, of things he fixed, of places he has been, of various connections he has made through school in Turkey, associations with the John Hopkins School, as well as those through his wife and business. He could also go to anywhere in Europe and know people to help. In fact, he is going back early Thursday to visit a good friend who is dying of cancer in London, his only reason for going back, to see his friend. He is a great guy and I can see why everyone seems to like him. Where ever we have gone, people see him coming, immediately run out and begin to talk; he takes time with all, whether a taxi driver, almond seller, waiter, parking attendant, or village chief, part of his success. He treats them all with respect, listens, shows interst, and always has something to say. He tends to remember people as well, brining a bayram gift of school supplies for his villa’s caretaker’s daughter. We drove home though the darkened mountains, had a final view of the city lights, and went to be by 11:00.

Sailing in Gocek

We are now sitting on the back terrace of our boat, the Ergun, with Hasan and the captain and his wife It is an amazing sight, to be anchored off these small islands, surrounded by 100’s of yachts from all over the world. Every where I look, a yacht is anchored off the shore of and island. The captains name is the same as the boat, Ergun, and his wife is Hallva, which means Eve. Hasan says he has never seen so many boats out, moored, but it is also the Bayram, which is why everyone from other parts of Turkey is down here as well as the various other nationalities. The water is so blue and clear, that it puts Chautauqua to shame and rivals if not surpasses the water of Hawaii. A huge sloop pulled up just next to us, it must be 50-60 feet long, sleeps probably twenty or more people, an d it has been rented by a Turkish family for the weekkend, I assume. We spent probably an hour just treading water, talking, enjoying the sun and beautiful water. I went into shore but the bottom is riddled with sea urchines, so it’s hard to walk. Some of the men from the boat closest to us have snorkels and harpoons. Hasan thinks they are a bit presumptuous to think they will catch something and he seemss accurate. They have come back with nothing. Before heading out, we went to Hasan’s favorite café, where we had dinner our first night, and I had my first menemen, set on a couple pieces of toast, interestingly. We then bought some water, beer, and cokes and headed to the boat. It’s amazing to sit here, on the Mediterrean in southern Turkey, knowing two weeks ago we were on a lake in Chautauqua. We both wonder how we are ever going to go home to our lake, after spending a few days in the luxury and spectacular beauty of Hasan’s villa, and also traveling around this marvelous coast. Chautauqua’s beauty is different, no doubt, but it does not seem to compare right now to our surroundings, especially, I think, because of the constant sun, the temperatures in the 70’s, the blue, clean, clear waters, and the surrounding mountains, all green with pine tress, mostly if not all untouched by development of any kind. That’s what makes the sailing so special I think, the untouched beauty of these islands, covered with pines. As I sit here writing, two more 50 foot yachts have pulled up and anchored. We are now anchoed at a cove called Gobun, a lovely spot that, of course, Hasan knows, and it’s filled wit about 20 huge yachts. All have come to relax, swim, and eat at the one restaurant in the bay, Kapi Creek. We tied up at the main dock, and as we were coming in, the owner of the restaurant called out to welcome Hasan. He knows the owner and all his sons, so as usual we have had great care. We swam, then got off the boat, to have a lunch of eggplant salad, corban salata, cacik, and a hot tomate mixture, which we are not sure of its name. We had two fish for lunch, but am not sure of their name, what they are called in English but Hasan said it is close to flounder. As I look out from my table, there a heads of swimmers dotting the bay, jumping of the boat, laughing, talking and having a good time. I have yet to meet an American, mostly Turks on Bayram, and Northern European. At the edge of the hillside, where the restaurant is nestled in the hills, is a wood shed,where the masseuse and barber has his spot. Hasan talked me into getting a massage, which was really quite refreshing, and I did enjoy it, though I could not talk Evie into getting one. I am writing this as Hasan gets a massage, and am sitting at a seaside table under the shade of olive trees. He keeps trying to get us to stay longer, and each time he asks, our resolve to leave gets less and less. We will just hve to see; sometimess offers like this, especially in the Middle East, are a form of friendship but are not to be taken up. We’ll have to see what we do. For now, I am trying to digest yet another big meal. Each time we sit down, we vow to eat lightly and then the food begins to arrive in shifts, and just as you think its over, a dessert arrives, or tea and coffee. We are being treated like royalty and love it. The beauty of all this is that we don’t have to do anything; we don’t have to go anywhere. What ever we feel liked doing we do, Swim, eat, just relax, or talk or not, it’s up to us. What a luxury.

We returned from sailing, after anchoring to watch the sun set behind the mountains and headed home, full of tea, cakes, and fruit, all served on the boat after a huge lunch. We went back to the house, showered, and had a Martini and Rossi Bianco, a lovely light slightly sweet white wine. We all enjoyed it. We then picked up Selim at his house, and went into town for kofte’s. We ate outside as usual, under vineyards and orange and grapefruit trees with Selim, wife and daughter. Believe it or not, the restaurant had run of of kofte, so we ate shish kebobs, some lamb, but once again, wonderful mezze of eggplant puree, white beans and vinegar, tomato and cucumber salad, and wonderful flat bread, a bit thicker then pita. Selim is very different, says outrageous things with conviction, so it is hard to know what he thinks, but he is amusing and interested and interesting. His wife, from Kiev in the Urkraine, speaks English at 78 speed, so she is hard to understand. But we had a great time, and their daughter is so cute, though she fell asleep at the end. We then went for a walk, had Tukish coffee and the restaurants version of apple pie, and talked politics into the night, especially about the Gulen Movement in Turkey. It was a memorable day, one of the best we have ever had. We are both so glad we came to Turkey Gocek.

Gocek

Monday, September 21st, Gocek
It’s Tuesday morning, I have been up since 6:00, awakened by the call to prayer, and I have been sitting here driniking my coffee and watching the matchless mountains of pine turn from black to green. Yesterday was another spectacular day, beautiful blue skies, temperatures in the 70’s, filled with travel around Gocek. We began with a great breakfast of socuk eggs, fruit, toast, olives, cheese and Turkish tea. We then relaxed and took our time, and headed to the Swissotel beach, which is a private beach club which Hasan belongs too, just to the East of the village proper. We were given towels, the chairs were set up, and we basked in the sun, swam off the pier in clear blue waters, people watched, and just took it easy. For lunch, we went down to the restaurant, with a porce built over the water, sat on the deck table right next to the water(disappointing a couple who thought they had our table; they didn’t. Hasan had told the waiter we would like it). Evie had a shrimp salad, I had a couple of lahmacuns (Turkish pizzas), and we sat in the shade for close to an hour, just enjoying the view, the conversation, and the day. Hasan is a wonderful story teller, and he slowly has revealed his work, which even he cannot explain. He seems to have friends from all over the world, most certainly in Europe, which he made when he was Dean of the Paul Nizer School of John Hopkins in Bologna, Italy. He was there for about ten years, till the early 90’s when he started to go in to business for himself. He has done various things over the years, even going bankrupt I think for a few years, when he Turkish partners company went under. His wife, however, works as a Economic ambassador to various countries, so he said he was fine, especially since health care in Austria, where they lived, was free. He rebuilt everything in bits and pieces, and I think he seems to be a fixer, in the best sense of the word; if you want something done, he will figure out a way to do it. He connects people, companies, banks, businesses, and ends up being a partner or owning parts of many things, scattered all over the world. One of his best friends seems to be the Governor of the island of St. Vincent, whom he calls Freddie, a black leader, tremendously charismatic, who Hasan loves to tak about…Freddy has children ranging from age 8 to 58. He and Hasan own businesses, even parts of banks, I think. Though Hasan is on vacation, he must have gotten or made 20-30 calls during the day, many just friends, some maybe business, a number with his sons and wife. He and partners have bought a small pharm company in Iowa, which makes products sold exclusively at spas, called the Vine, I think. He also told us about a great friend who lived in Archbold, Ohio, the home of a Mennonte furniture maker, which he imported to Europe, even all over the world before the Chinese changed things. Every place we have gone, the restauranteures and waiters know Hasan, give him marvelous treatent, and he treats all of them like old friends. He is a great guy, a wonderful friend, and we have know idea how to thank him for these wonderful days. After the beach, we headed to Fethiye, a larger town of 30,000 people, strangely an enclave of British retirees, replete with Irish pubs, beachs full of Brits, and masses of small apartments and condos for retired British citizens. We stopped along the road for views, drove above the city to look at Lycian tombs carved into the side of mountains, and drove to a beach, just outside of the city, where we watched hang gliders, at least 30-40 over a period of an hour, land, right on the beach, in front of four or five hundred bathers, promenaders, locals, and the like. They put bean bag chairs on the beach, at least 50-100 for people to sit in, as they watch the sun set over to the West. Drinks are served, music blares, and it seems like the entire colony of Brits is there, with a smattering of locals and tourists, watching the sun set. It is beautiful, looking both ways, a mountains, the sea with a few boats, the sky with hang gliders carving lines in the sky. We walked for awhile, had a beer, and headed back into the city to eat at The Fish Marketm, in the center of the city. It’s named for the fish market in the center of the area, which is surrounded by at least 8 restaurants and I would estimate 400-500 seasts, outside, and most of them were filled with people eating and enjoying the night. We, of course, had prime seats, were welcomed like kings, and enjoyed meze of patlican with roasted red peppers, rocket, corban salata, followed by grilled large shrimp, and then a three or four pound sea bass, whole, served by the waiter and placed on our plates. We went through two bottles of wine, too much, but really enjoyed the atmosphere. We met a young couple who lived in Kansas City of all places, who were heading to Dubai for a few days. WE are sorry we did not get to talk to them more; we also met an attractive couple from Britain; Mom thought the girl looked like Therese Charon; we made some small talk, shared a bit of our fish with them. We headed home, drove for about 30 minutes back to Gocek, arriving around eleven and went to bed and slept soundly until being awakened, as I mentioned by the call to prayers.

Evie's Birthday Disaster and Flight to Gocek

We are now in the airport, waiting for our flight to Gocek. We said our good bye’s to Oz, Margaret’s friend, who has been a wonderful help to us, so friendly, out going, and nice. She is quite clearly a fairly important person, having worked for Citi Bank for years and it sounds as if she is part of various foundations, among them the Ford Foundation. Anyways, she seems to be flying off to various countries as part of her work for these foundations. Last night, Evie’s birthday, was a bit of a disaster, as we walked to Bebek and got hit by a rain storm; then we couldn’t find a restaurant we liked, so headed back to Arnavutkoy and ate at the Haci Baba kofte restaurant. Not very classy, but a decent kofte and excellent soup. This mornings ride to the airport was great because of the Bayram; Ates took us the long way, avoiding highways, as we wove down the Bosphorus road to Kadikoy, around the city walls, and following the Bosphorus to the airport. He laughed about how strange this was, that he rarely had ever been on a road so quiet and pleasureable.

Besiktas team dinner and Walk to Ortakoy

Last night, we met with the Besiktas team at Gokturk, an area about 15 kilometers from Istanbul, where Ahmet Kurt, one of our guards, has developed literally a city of some 30,000 people, or so it seems. The ride was amazing, as we went through names like Levent and Etiler, which we knew but which were completely different, filled with apartments, cafes, shops, winding streets, and wild driving.  About half way to Ahmet's, off in the distance was an area they call Mini Manhattan.  Literally, out in the middle of what used to be nowhere are 25-50 huge buildings, thirty to 50 stories high, all spectacularly lit, the new center, I suppose, of Istanbul, as there is little more room for development in the city.  It was shocking to see the changes in the hills which we remember. Anyways, Ahmet said he starting buying the land 25 years ago, when there were just a thousand people living in the area. He has developed the downtown area, where there are shops and restaurants, as well as, I think, much of the apartments in the area.  He gives back by sponsoring various basketball teams for the younger kids, at this time some 500 are involved.  We ate at his restaurant, half of which is fish, the other half meat.  There we are about sixteen of us and the meal, as would be expected was glorious, as one course followed another as we watched Turkey lose to Greece in the Euro Twelve tournament.  As the beer, raki and wine flowed, we ate the following: 1^st course of salad, beyaz peynir and baba ghanoush, as well as bread.  This was followed by lamachun, as I mentioned to Eren that I remember the lamachun man at Robert Academy.  He immediately ordered it from the other half of the restaurant and it was superb.  It was served with a plate of onions, peppers, and salad mixed, which you placed on the lamachun and wrapped it with the pizza. 

First Full Day in Istanbul

Yesterday, the 17th, we arrived on time, got through customs fairly easily, met the driver, and arrived at our apartment around noon. Oz, Margaret Matthew's friend, from NYC met us, which was wonderful. She lives in NYC, had been a banker for Citi bank for most of her time in the city. She acclimated us to the apartment, was a great help, and then basically left us alone. The apartment overlooks the main road and Bosporus, though it's very quiet. It has two bedrooms, a large living room, a porch that's enclosed, a small court yard and a palm tree right in the middle, which obstructs part of our view. After walking into Arnavutkoy, much changed but it still has character, returned and took a couple hour nap. At 5:30, we met the Eptings, friends from California, who just happened to be on a cruise and were visiting Istanbul, walked the RC campus, amazingly green and modern and well taken care of, then had a beer at the Deanery, where the Headmaster, John Chandler lives, a very fine gentlemen. We then went off with the Eptings to the village for dinner; at Taranci, a fish restaurant. We had a good time listening to Rick tell stories, but I was so tired, it was hard to enjoy much of the dinner. We stayed for a little over an hour, I think, and they were tired as well, as they were heading off for a cruise tomorrow. We went back to the apartment, slept for 12 hours, waking up at 10:00 in the morning, After a breakfast of kaymakly yogurt, with bananas and strawberries, and toast with kasar, we walked to Bebek, via the Bosporus road. And our return to Istanbul begins in earnest. 

Flying to Istanbul

September 16th New York to Istanbul
We have just taken off from JFK, about an hour late, but it was a good takeoff and we seem relaxed and ready for a nine hour trip. We got to the airport very early, about four hours before our flight, so we had to wait to check in. It’s a good thing we were early as Evie was able to get us the emergency row with lots of leg room. What a luxury, rather than being stuffed into chairs like sardines in a can. We hung out at the airport, walked, ate some, but time went fairly quickly and it’s fun to people watch. Our drive to the airport was much easier than we all expected, taking less than an hour, and Beth had no trouble getting back to Darien. As long as you go at the right time, the ride through the city is no big deal. We talked with the stewardess during our take off, a cute young girl who has been flying for a few years, two years domesticate before flying international. There are two babies to our left, quiet for now, and there are cribs in front, so I hope we can sleep later, as it gets dark. Two meals, a dinner and breakfast, and we will be in Istanbul.
We are about two hours out of Istanbul and I have hardly slept; it was quiet enough but I just could not get comfortable. We had a quite nice dinner, with a shrimp and eggplant cocktail, salad, chicken breast with rice, and a pudding cake for dessert. The flight has been calm, though there has been lots of commotion of the plane with at least three or four infants, though it really didn’t bother us. The women across the aisle, a Hassidic Jew, has a lovely daughter, and four boys all under ten, dressed like Hasids, with bald heads and long sideburns. Though we ate four hours ago, we are hungry once again, and I am sure breakfast will be deserved within the next hour. It is strange being on a long flight again, my last one with Senor to Peru about five years ago. Everyone has a screen in front of them, with a remote like those used with a tv to choose a program. I have seen people watching movies, playing solitaire or backgammon, among other things. As I finish, I can see the breakfast cart coming down the asile; it’s 8:00 in Turkey, 1:00 NYC time.

New York to Istanbul

September 16th New York to Istanbul
We have just taken off from JFK, about an hour late, but it was a good takeoff and we seem relaxed and ready for a nine hour trip. We got to the airport very early, about four hours before our flight, so we had to wait to check in. It’s a good thing we were early as Evie was able to get us the emergency row with lots of leg room. What a luxury, rather than being stuffed into chairs like sardines in a can. We hung out at the airport, walked, ate some, but time went fairly quickly and it’s fun to people watch. Our drive to the airport was much easier than we all expected, taking less than an hour, and Beth had no trouble getting back to Darien. As long as you go at the right time, the ride through the city is no big deal. We talked with the stewardess during our take off, a cute young girl who has been flying for a few years, two years domesticate before flying international. There are two babies to our left, quiet for now, and there are cribs in front, so I hope we can sleep later, as it gets dark. Two meals, a dinner and breakfast, and we will be in Istanbul.
We are about two hours out of Istanbul and I have hardly slept; it was quiet enough but I just could not get comfortable. We had a quite nice dinner, with a shrimp and eggplant cocktail, salad, chicken breast with rice, and a pudding cake for dessert. The flight has been calm, though there has been lots of commotion on the plane with at least three or four infants, though it really didn’t bother us. The women across the aisle, a Hassidic Jew, has a lovely daughter, and four boys all under ten, dressed like Hasids, with bald heads and long sideburns. Though we ate four hours ago, we are hungry once again, and I am sure breakfast will be served within the next hour. It is strange being on a long flight again, my last one with Senor to Peru about five years ago. Everyone has a screen in front of them, with a remote like those used with a TV to choose a program. I have seen people watching movies, playing solitaire or backgammon, among other things. As I finish, I can see the breakfast cart coming down the aisle; it’s 8:00 in Turkey, 1:00 NYC time.

One More Day Till Istanbul

We head off tomorrow for Istanbul, after a very long wait, lots of anxiety about packing and flying, so it will be good to finally get there and enjoy the city and friends for a month. Things have really fallen into place; Margaret Matthews has been wonderful, lending us her apartment, arranging for a ride from the airport and setting us straight on a few ways to get around in the city. Hasan, too, has been more than generous, buying our tickets to and from Gocek, arranging a ride if we need it, and just being a good friend. I have gotten in touch with many RC students and b-ballers through Facebook, so it would seem I will have lots of people to see and have conversations with. Most of my students if not all are in their 50's, with grown children so it will be interesting to see what we talk about. I wonder how politics will enter in as well; most of them still seem very liberal, if not socialist and I am not sure of their attitude towards the US. We are meeting the Eptings at John Chandler's home the day we arrive for a drink. He, too, has been so accomodating and willing to help out with making us feel at home. I hope that I can repay him and the school in some way, that I have something to share with them, both faculty and students. It's strange how, since we have arrived in Darien, I have not thought a moment about the lake, only about the grandkids and our trip to Istanbul. We have had a great stay here in Darien, the highlight being the boat and swimming on Sunday; a beautiful day, we anchored off an island, swam, cooked hot dogs and sausage, enjoyed the sun, and talked. Julia was able to come in from the city so we talked quite a bit about Turkey. She loved it and crammed as much into her three days as we did in seven years...a bit of an exaggeration but she did see alot. Yesterday, Evie and Beth went shopping, so I went into the city, walked for a couple of hours, then spent two hours at the MOMA, starting on the fifth floor with all the recognizable impressionists and worked my way down to furniture and housewares. Two hours is just right. Rami met me for lunch at Haru, a bustling sushi place; the outdoor pation was filled, as were most tables inside, so we sat at the sushi bar. We finished the night off with Jamie Olivers pressed potatoes, chicken thign s, cherry tomatoes and herbs. I am sitting in a Barnes and Noble, enjoying my new netbook, as I write this. Early mornings are very busy for Beth, sending three kids off to school. The most enjoyable part is watching the metamorphosis of Tyler in the morning, as he dons he khaki's, button down shirt and tie. He looks like a completely different kid from the day before, grown up and serious. No wonder parents love these schools, that require a dress guide, including a tie. I am going to head home for lunch, as Beth and Evie are no doubt still shopping.