ianmcdonald (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ianmcdonald) wrote,@ 2008-02-08 16:21:00 |
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The Shoeshine of Istanbul, and other scams.
Got back last Monday from our weekend in Istanbul, which in early Februry is beautiful, empty, filled with light but fully functional. All the tourist stuff of course, asslimmeroftheyea's Mum was with us. No queues for anything. The main visitors to the Topkapi Palace on a Friday afternoon were Istanbulites taking a stroll around the grounds. As a consequence, you could go everywhere and anywhere, and the light coming up the Golden Horn was glorious. By ferry to Asia for 60p (the pound had noticeably faded against the YTL since we were there in August --that's economic boom for you.) The news was full of headscarf dread: I think they've got this one about right. There's still a ban on the full Wahabi gear, which I think is rational --Saudi's not that popular in Turkey anway. Women wear the headscarf for many other reasons than political Islam. In fact, political Islam is the least reason. Arif Shafak makes a good point that what we in the West called 'Turkey's Islamic Government' is no different from European 'Christian Democrats'. Oh, the fear that runs down our lily spines at the word 'Islamic party...'
Our attempts to get into the Blue Mosque were twice foiled by Friday prayers and the next day by a funeral: it wasn't until Saturday morning that we made it in, but it's still a radiant spiritual space.
On the arse-side of things, we did get hit with the (now) well-known Shoeshine of Istanbul Scam. Paid him fuck-off money. My shoulder still ache from the steel fingers of the tellak at the Cagaloglu Hamam, which, though 18th Century, felt spectacularly Ottoman. I tottered around in wooden hamam clogs, which felt vertiginously high over the butt-polished marble. The pictures of East 17 (circa 1995) on the slab in baseball hats giving it rapper hands were delightful.
I finally got an Istanbul football mug for mu mugs of the world collection from the Fenerbahce shop on Istiklal Cadessi. And ate pudding made from shredded chicken breast (very good it was too), and drank salep, a 'warming winter drink made from orchid roots' it sa here. Creamy and mildly vanilla-y, not at all what the description would lead you to expect.
As well as the latest Mercan Dede and updating my collection of Sezen Aksu, whom I like very much indeed, I picked up an absolute gem: Just Feel by Dolapdere Big Gang (their music but I think I've seen the video elsewhere. Their trick is Western music ,a la Turque, but it's their exellent musicianship and spooky sense of really, truly believing it that raises it above pastiche. Highlight is a rip-snorting bellydance version of Sex Bomb
Direct flight from Dublin on Turkish Airlines was good if long at 4 and a bit hours, though the food from the Dublin end was Dubliny and I rather missed the lamb and aubergine. The wine was Cappadocian, and we got Stardust on IFE. It was okay if you like that sort of thing.
So I'm falling back in love with the book again --it's slow but it definitely feels like I'm trying things I never dared before.
Got back last Monday from our weekend in Istanbul, which in early Februry is beautiful, empty, filled with light but fully functional. All the tourist stuff of course, as
slimmeroftheyea's Mum was with us. No queues for anything. The main visitors to the Topkapi Palace on a Friday afternoon were Istanbulites taking a stroll around the grounds. As a consequence, you could go everywhere and anywhere, and the light coming up the Golden Horn was glorious. By ferry to Asia for 60p (the pound had noticeably faded against the YTL since we were there in August --that's economic boom for you.) The news was full of headscarf dread: I think they've got this one about right. There's still a ban on the full Wahabi gear, which I think is rational --Saudi's not that popular in Turkey anway. Women wear the headscarf for many other reasons than political Islam. In fact, political Islam is the least reason. Arif Shafak makes a good point that what we in the West called 'Turkey's Islamic Government' is no different from European 'Christian Democrats'. Oh, the fear that runs down our lily spines at the word 'Islamic party...'Our attempts to get into the Blue Mosque were twice foiled by Friday prayers and the next day by a funeral: it wasn't until Saturday morning that we made it in, but it's still a radiant spiritual space.
On the arse-side of things, we did get hit with the (now) well-known Shoeshine of Istanbul Scam. Paid him fuck-off money. My shoulder still ache from the steel fingers of the tellak at the Cagaloglu Hamam, which, though 18th Century, felt spectacularly Ottoman. I tottered around in wooden hamam clogs, which felt vertiginously high over the butt-polished marble. The pictures of East 17 (circa 1995) on the slab in baseball hats giving it rapper hands were delightful.
I finally got an Istanbul football mug for mu mugs of the world collection from the Fenerbahce shop on Istiklal Cadessi. And ate pudding made from shredded chicken breast (very good it was too), and drank salep, a 'warming winter drink made from orchid roots' it sa here. Creamy and mildly vanilla-y, not at all what the description would lead you to expect.
As well as the latest Mercan Dede and updating my collection of Sezen Aksu, whom I like very much indeed, I picked up an absolute gem: Just Feel by Dolapdere Big Gang (their music but I think I've seen the video elsewhere. Their trick is Western music ,a la Turque, but it's their exellent musicianship and spooky sense of really, truly believing it that raises it above pastiche. Highlight is a rip-snorting bellydance version of Sex Bomb
Direct flight from Dublin on Turkish Airlines was good if long at 4 and a bit hours, though the food from the Dublin end was Dubliny and I rather missed the lamb and aubergine. The wine was Cappadocian, and we got Stardust on IFE. It was okay if you like that sort of thing.
So I'm falling back in love with the book again --it's slow but it definitely feels like I'm trying things I never dared before.
