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May 30, 2005
Day 1: Copenhagen to Istanbul
1:30 p.m.: I’m sitting on the plane, waiting to depart an already there is trouble. Both of the ATMs in the airport were out of order, and so I am stuck with only a plastic sandwich bag full of mismatched currency. I don’t have the money necessary to pay for my tourist visa (payable at customs in Istanbul). I also don’t have the 150 Euros payable to the trip leader that is due tonight. That’s not necessarily a problem, since I’m sure I can find an ATM in the city—the question is whether there will be an opportunity to get money BEFORE going through customs. If not, I might have to live at the airport for the next 3 weeks. I also realized that I forgot to pack my travel pillow in my backpack. It must be in one of the suitcases I left in Copenhagen.
11:41 p.m.: Aside from getting ripped off at the visa desk (they wanted US currency and I only had the Turkish Lira from the ATM) and having to wait in obscenely long lines to get through customs, the arrival in Istanbul was surprisingly smooth. I was irritated to discover that the currency exchanges won’t convert coins, and so I’m stuck with about $75 worth of Swedish, Latvian, Norwegian, Danish, Estonian, and Japanese currency. I had to reconvert my Turkish Lira (TRL) to Euros to pay the trip leader, but after that was quite pleased to easily catch a taxi to the And Hotel (as in “Restaurant AND Hotel”). The driver was crazy, preferring to drive in the middle of the two-lane highway and only commit to one lane or the other when passing a slower vehicle.
I made it to the hotel at 7 p.m. sharp, just in time to catch the group meeting. There are 7 of us in the tour group:
• Me and Jess
• Steve and Michelle – a father/daughter pair from the US
• Kate and Sally – sisters from Australia
• Trish – from Australia
And then there is Kevin, our fearless Australian leader. Everyone seems nice, and I think we will get along fine.
After the obligatory rehash of the itinerary and rules (no prostitution, please), we went around the corner for dinner and whirling dervish show. Frankly, I expected a more frantic whirling motion. ON the other hand, the kebab was great and the apricot juice was fantastic. Instead of dessert, we opted to share a nagila. I hadn’t smoked a nagila or hookah, if you prefer) since my grad school roommate Eran brought one from Israel—and it was just as great as I remembered.
I’m back in the hotel noe. Hess’s luggage didn’t arrive, and so we are a little worried. Right now, we have no soap, no towels, no detergents, and of course, Jess has only the clothes she was wearing on the flight over. Luckily, we’re in a hotel with towels and soap, but we’ll have to do a little shopping tomorrow.
We’re just a short walk from several famous sites. In the morning, we’ll do a walking tour, then go to the Grand Bazaar in the afternoon. As I lay here, preparing to go to bed, the sound of Arabic music is drifting in through the open window. I’d like to open the curtains, but Jess—who is sleeping naked (no pajamas) in the next bed—might not approve.
