Ekber's Bookstore in Beyoglu

Evie had a bad night, not sleeping well so we are taking our time this morning. I wrote to Hasan and Agop, thanking them for a fine evening and sending them my airline ticket information. They are going to try and reserve us seats in the bulkhead so I can stretch my legs. I went to Migros early, picked up melon and bananas for breakfast and a few fresh rolls from a bakkal, the kind I remember eating in the old days, flaky when you take a bit.
I took the bus in alone because Evie had not been sleeping well and did not feel up to a trip to the city. Strangely, it took little time, as traffic was easy, so I was at Taksim by 10:30. As usual, it’s a mad house of people, buses, cars, taxis, and vendors, all vying for a spot or place in this dodge’em. I walked a bit, then headed down Istiklal, the major street heading towards Pera or Galata, the area where all the foreigners were allowed to live: Italians, Greek, French, Armenians, Jews, as well as British later on. That’s one of the reason there’s only one mosque in the Beyoglu area. I am surprised by the number of people but shouldn’t be; clearly there are tourists but mostly Istanbulis, shopping, chatting, walking and eating. Ekber’s shop is clearly a popular place, one of a kind if you are interested in prints, maps, antique books, anything having to do with the city. The main floor is the book store, where tourist brouse and buy old prints, lots of maps, some books, postcards, almost anything from the Ottoman eras. There are two stores above where there are young people working on computers, cataloguing what they have and corresponding with people who are interested in their stuff. The store belongs to a cooperative, which allows people from all over the world to search and find things…if Ekber’s bookstore has it, the buyer will be directed to them. While I was there, people came in to sell things, some to buy, some to just look, and some were collectors of a sort, either buying or selling. The bookstore prints a few books and they are putting together I wonderful coffee table book called the maps of Istanbul. I saw a galley copy and thought it looked really good, worth having if you were a lover of maps or Istanbul. Many of them were of the Bosphorus, of course, as well as the city. Ekber showed me a map of the United States with Arabic script and he was able to read it and pick out Ohio. He insisted on giving me a similar map, dates in 1926, along with some other book marks and things. We went out to a small lokanta, very popular, because the food is cheap and excellent. There’s a newspaper article on the way saying the owner ought to be arrested for selling such good food so cheaply. After lunch, we walked around some of the back roads, had coffee on the terrace of the Tom Tom hotel, just next to the Italian embassy. We walked through the alleys of the French and Dutch embassies, as well before returning to the store, where I picked up my package and was one my way.
I arrived home to find out our dinner at Ahmet’s had been canceled. There was some miscommunication and a number of players thought I was going to Ayvalik today and couldn’t make the dinner. They tried to call but either Evie’s cell was not working or we were not home for the apartment. We felt terribel, for Ahmet and his wife, but fortunately, he understood and said, hey, it’s Besiktas. I went into to the village, bought kofte, spinach and cheese, some rice, for dinner. The kofte were not very good so we ended up eating mostly salad, spinach, and rice. Evie still is really tired, though she spent the day at home, hoping to sleep a bit.