Arrival in Istanbul

October 4.

 

Our direct flight from Toronto to Istanbul is smooth and uneventful, except for the passengers, chattering loudly to each other, who won't take their seats on departure, until the very polite Turkish Airlines attendants firmly insist. The plane has pushed back from the gate before they settle down. After a long wait to get through passport control at Atatürk Airport, we are met by a  G-Adventures driver and transported to the Q Inn Hotel where we are shown to our room – about the size and comfort of a monk’s cell, with one small window that looks into a narrow light well. At least it’s clean. Not much point hanging around here so we immediately head off to orientate ourselves. This starts off as quite a challenge as the view from the rooftop doesn’t make sense with the map location I had Google-mapped before leaving home. Our dilemma is solved when we find that we have been booked into a different Q Inn than the one on our booking voucher. This hotel is in a different part of town.

 

We like the location which is on a street with great looking fashion shops and food vendors offering fresh fruit, roasted chestnuts and corn and yummy pastries. Setting off now in the right direction – we think – we head out for the Galata Bridge, thinking this is a good spot to look for dinner and take in some street scenes along the way. There is a slight dampness in the air and it’s pretty chilly, but we opt to keep going even though I didn’t bring my umbrella and am not wearing a rain jacket. The mist turns to steady drizzle as we wind our way through streets filled with vendors and pedestrians. It seems that everyone comes out in the evening on the streets of Istanbul. The mosques as well as many other buildings are illuminated with coloured lights as the sky darkens.

More rain and some of the cobbled streets are slick underfoot. The directions are tricky, as not many streets go straight. At one point we think we have reached the bridge, but it’s the wrong one; we have gone off course and have to head up and down some hilly neighbourhood back streets to finally come out with the famous bridge in sight. There are restaurants lining the lower level, cars and the tram cross the Golden Horn, above. We randomly pick a place to eat – how can we tell the difference? Everyone offers the best menu and freshest fish. They seem geared to tourists, but as it gets later, locals drift in to eat and hand pick their dinner from the catch of the day, brought to their tables for selection. We don’t get that offer! But we choose the Special Sea Bream and a selection of salads. It is beautifully deboned at our table – and is tasty and goes well with the local beer.