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: 1st 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.
A daily journal of our lives (begun in October, 2010), in photos (many taken by my wife, Evie) and words, mostly from our home on Chautauqua Lake, in Western New York, where my wife Evie and I live, after my having retired from teaching English for forty-five years in Hawaii, Istanbul, Turkey, and Ohio. We have three children and seven grandchildren, as you will notice if you follow my blog since we often travel to visit them. Trumpeter Swans on 3/23/24 at 5:00
Friday, September 18, 2009
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: 1st 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.
By the way, I am sitting in a café, on the Bosporus, in Arnavutkoy, as cars, motor bikes whiz buy, huge oil boats sail by, and at least 50 people in my view are on the promenade fishing for lufer and palamut. A couple of men are walking by, selling sweet corn, something that Turkey seems to have discovered. Back to the meal. After the lamachun, we had octopus and calamari’s, then shrimp, then sardines, and finished our meal up with sea bass. For dessert, we had melons, both watermelons and kahunes, and because it was Evie’s birthday, they brought out a chocolate cake, with candles. What a night to remember; it was if we had never left Turkey. The players were fun to see, we had great stories to tell, and lie about, no doubt, but it’s clear our friendship has lasted. Both Evie and I have remarked how courteous and hospitable Turks are, putting us to shame. Anything we wanted, they got for us. Ates insists on driving us to the airport tomorrow; Fehmi was worried we had nothing to do tonight, said he was free after nine. It was a glorious evening of friendship and good food, something we will never forget. We left about six, returning after midnight, so we were exhausted, to say the least.
Today, Saturday, we walked into Ortakoy, about a 45 minute walk from our apartment. About half of the way is along the Bosporus, and then it gives way to a street alongside various apartments, so it’s not as nice to walk after Kurucesme. Ortakoy has become a tourist attraction, with its narrow streets, wonderful mosque on the watermelons, and cafes, restaurants, and bars. The narrow alleys, especially the ones leading to the water are filled with stands selling the largest baked potatoes I have ever seen, with all the toppings you could want. It seems to be there thing: for $3.50 you can get a potato with the works. The side streets are littered with carts filled with jeweleyr, souvenirs, and things like that, and the cafes or bars seem to cater to tourists, with their narghailas and comfortable, cushioned seating. If you walked on the other side of the main street, you found some of the real Turkey, as it lacked the junky touristy feel of the water side. We managed to get a phone card, through the patience, and help of the staff in the store. They were so helpful and gracious. We ate at a small locanta, having mercimek and a corban salata, and I had mercimek, rice, and kuru fasulya. Wonderful soup, bread and fasulya but surprisingly expensive with tip, about 25 liras or 16 dollars. We took a bus back for the first time; we need to get something called an Akbill, a card that you fill up and just push it through a machine on the bus. From what we understand, you can really take a bus anywhere in the city, it’s so convenient. We came back around 2:00, Evie called home and I took a brief nap, and then headed off to the village alone, as Evie wanted to pack. We want bursa kebab tonight but I am not sure where to find one, as most of the restaurants are specializing in fish. The weather was cloudy this morning, in fact, it rained pretty hard on us this morning, but it seems to be clearing up now although as I look down towards Bebek, it looks dark. The Bosporus, as we knew, is an endless pantheon of sights, from big to small boats, and the promenade is filled with people fishing, walking, jogging, swimming, sunning themselves, relaxing, or just sitting on the benches and talking. As we have walked, we have been most surprised by the wonderful parks that are part of Bebek and Kurucesme, with lots of play ground toys for kids. The Turks have really been forward thinking in their planning, having really made use of the water.
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