Istanbul

ok ok...for my Greek readers, let's say Constantinople. For blogging purposes, let's just refer to the city as IC.

Mom and Goldie went to IC last weekend. Mom wanted to make this trip for many years now, and doing it while still living in Bulgaria was the most convenient time. So it finally happened. Not without the necessary adventures, though.

Last Wednesday Goldie and mom went to get tickets. Much to Goldie's dismay, mom refused to go buy the tickets by herself, since she remembered from her traveling to Thessaloniki experiences that a passport or ID is required when buying international train tickets. So she dragged Goldie to the train station in the heat, and it turns out that it was a wise thing to do, not only because a passport is indeed required to get a ticket to IC, but also because you cannot get a train ticket to IC at the train station. You'd think that train tickets are sold at train station, but in this case you'd be wrong. In Plovdiv you have to go to a small office about 500 meters away from the train station to do that. Makes sense, no? Well, after about half an hour of running around asking for the elusive office, mom and G. found the place, where, of course, credit cards are not accepted. So mom goes out looking for an ATM. Finds one. Card is "temporarily refused". Curses. Goes to another ATM. Card still "temporarily refused". More curses. Goldie is waiting at the ticket office so mom decides to use withdraw money from another account (one that charges a fee for overseas withdrawals, not happy about that). Gets cash, returns to ticket office, buys tickets. Happy end.

Next task: change money. Goldie wants to use her bank which, however, does not have Turkish Liras. Bank employee advises her to go to the Turkish Bank. Well, apparently the Turkish Bank does not have Turkish Liras either. Uhm. Let's try the change agency. Thank goodness, they do have Turkish Liras. Goldie changes money for her, and some for mom, who's cash-less, too. Happy end no2.

7 hours later, mom and G. are on the train. Yay! Without major incidents they arrive at IC on Thursday morning. Mom is eager to get her own cash so she trots to the first ATM. The horrible monster (ATM) promptly swallows her card, alas, never to spit it out again. "Card retained at the issuer's request". Swell. Card-less in IC with 4 more days to go.

Deep breaths and on to the hotel. After a short walk which felt like a marathon in morning IC traffic, mom and G. arrive at Hotel Hali. Fortunately mom had made the reservation in euros and had saved the money in advance. The hotel is cozy and clean, and above all, very centrally located (thanks to Ben for recommending it!).

After a short rest, the ambitious travelers are off to explore the city. Their first targets are the main tourist attractions, Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. That's what I call ambition. Of course, they get side-tracked, or should I say abducted, by local merchants who smelled fresh prey. They get dragged into a carpet store, offered tea, and hassled to buy the unique treasures. Well, that's the summary anyway. For a full report, you might want to read Carolyn's post. Everything is the same, and I mean everything, down to the slightest detail: dialogue, tea, bargaining, EVERYTHING. These people must have a script, sort of like the customer service representatives whom we all love so much. Shortly after, they manage to escape and find refuge in Hagia Sophia, for the steep price of 20 YTL. Pretty steep price indeed, especially for someone with little appreciation of churches. Anyway, it was a good break from the blazing sun :)

Sightseeing was followed by lots of walking, and, of course, eating breaks. By the way, Turkish food, awesome. Mom could not stop thinking of all the times she swore to her American friends that baklava and many other delicacies are Greek. Well, time for big-time admittance: she was wrong! Sorry my Greek readers. They are not. You can keep arguing that they are, but one bite of Turkish baklava will convince you. And I'm talking tourist-shop quality here, so you can only imagine what the real thing would be like. Yummm.

By the end of the day it had become clear to mom that she needs some kind of camouflage. Blonde and curvy in IC, not good. Not that she felt unsafe during the trip, not really. But the advances by carpet salesmen, waiters, jeans salesmen, and all sorts of guys employed in the tourist industry crossed the borderline of flattering to plainly annoying. Again, you'll find a lot more details on Carolyn's blog - mom was too annoyed to talk about it. I guess after a certain age, un-discriminating attention does not flatter you any more, but makes you feel like a walking piece of meat, white meat with blond hair, that everyone is trying to get a piece of, even the guy selling corn at the corner, who's trying to touch your hand while taking your money. Nope. Definitely not flattering. And then we dogs get blamed for butt-sniffing. Go figure.

Throughout the trip, mom was trying to solve the debit card problem with the help of her wonderful helpers - a team across two countries, 3 including Turkey. It turns out that TD Bank (and that's not an ad by any means) decided that after 10 months and more than 40 withdrawals, the card's activity in Bulgaria was suspicious. Never mind that mom had called them before leaving the U.S. and had let them know that she will be abroad for one year and that the card would be used in Bulgaria. Details. Upon Kiril and Ed's intervention, the lady at the bank emailed mom and promised to send out a new card. Which she did. Overnight mail service. On Friday, June 13. As of today, the card has not reached Plovdiv yet. Long live UPS.




Some pictures here.