Peter and I are considering a nice relaxing visit to the Hamam (Turkish bath), but we haven't gone 15 metres from the restaurant when Peter spots a handsome BMW K1600 GTL motorcycle parked on the sidewalk ....and the rest is history. A gentleman comes out of the Iznik Fine Art Gallery to see who is admiring his bike. An enthusiastic discussion ensues and the brotherhood of the motorcycle riders is quickly evoked. I continue to admire the beautiful ceramic dishes displayed in the store window, and after a while we are invited inside, ushered down the stairs to the lower level where piles of carpets are stacked along the walls. We have no plans to buy a carpet, so how is it that we emerge about 45 minutes later, the proud owners of not one, but two carpets?
Orham and his partner are funny and clever, charming and skillful with customer service. Over glasses of tea, we are shown carpets and we discuss motorcycles.They don't overwhelm us with choices, but listen to us when we reject items, but they are are quick to see what catches our attention. There is no rush and we stop negotiations frequently to joke and discuss a wide range of topics. When we totally balk at the price of a lovely silk carpet with a traditional ottoman design, they put it aside and show us embroidered wool runners instead. Much cheaper; and negotiations start again. We're down to prices again and they leave us to talk privately with glasses of ice cold raki (a licorice-tasting alcohol). In the end we go back to the silk carpet, and the runner is included in our final price. Then as an added bonus we are given a lovely ceramic plate. And finally Orham insists that I take a silver and ceramic ring as a gift. We walk out of the Iznik Fine Art Gallery laughing at ourselves but shaking our heads in disbelief. Peter's last words to our new found friends are "You should take this show on the road guys."
For the rest of the day we explore randomly along the waterfront and back streets, past ruined remnants of city walls and the towering embankment that supports the hippodrome. We try out the exercise equipment in a small slice of green space. Eventually we end up back at the Galata Bridge where we watch the sunset and rows of people fishing off the side. We wonder how it is they don't get their lines tangled. We never actually see anyone hauling in a catch. It's quite a social scene, with food vendors and much mingling and banter between groups.
Crossing over to the other side, we come to the quay where the cruise ships dock. It's a beautiful view looking back to the old city, with the buildings lit up and golden light playing on the sides of mosques and grand palaces.
Tonight we decide to try and eat where the locals do and stay away from the most obviously touristy restaurants. And so we find a place that seems to fit the bill and as it turns out where no one speaks any English at all. It's a bit stark with tables set out in long rows. Service is abrupt and unhelpful. We select by pointing at pictures in the menu and the meal is unremarkable variation on kepabs. Somehow we feel as if we have got the whole system wrong here. Oh, well, at least we tried something different and it's a lovely walk back across the bridge to the tram, where we figure out the token system and its a quick ride back to the hotel.
Orham and his partner are funny and clever, charming and skillful with customer service. Over glasses of tea, we are shown carpets and we discuss motorcycles.They don't overwhelm us with choices, but listen to us when we reject items, but they are are quick to see what catches our attention. There is no rush and we stop negotiations frequently to joke and discuss a wide range of topics. When we totally balk at the price of a lovely silk carpet with a traditional ottoman design, they put it aside and show us embroidered wool runners instead. Much cheaper; and negotiations start again. We're down to prices again and they leave us to talk privately with glasses of ice cold raki (a licorice-tasting alcohol). In the end we go back to the silk carpet, and the runner is included in our final price. Then as an added bonus we are given a lovely ceramic plate. And finally Orham insists that I take a silver and ceramic ring as a gift. We walk out of the Iznik Fine Art Gallery laughing at ourselves but shaking our heads in disbelief. Peter's last words to our new found friends are "You should take this show on the road guys."
Crossing over to the other side, we come to the quay where the cruise ships dock. It's a beautiful view looking back to the old city, with the buildings lit up and golden light playing on the sides of mosques and grand palaces.
Tonight we decide to try and eat where the locals do and stay away from the most obviously touristy restaurants. And so we find a place that seems to fit the bill and as it turns out where no one speaks any English at all. It's a bit stark with tables set out in long rows. Service is abrupt and unhelpful. We select by pointing at pictures in the menu and the meal is unremarkable variation on kepabs. Somehow we feel as if we have got the whole system wrong here. Oh, well, at least we tried something different and it's a lovely walk back across the bridge to the tram, where we figure out the token system and its a quick ride back to the hotel.
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I hope you enjoy reading about our adventures. Feedback and comments are very welcome.