For my Turkish friends, please visit this little restaurant and taste their wonderful wraps. You can make-up your own selection of contents for thw wrap in an easy selection process. There are three columns of choices, numbered 1 to 6, so you decide that you will have a 1-2-6, simple yet effective.
Tell them the English trainer sent you, you will get a smile and a warm welcome.
İstiklal Caddesi’nin Tünel meydanında bulunan La Cantine, Fransız damak tadina uygun durumler yapan kucuk bir cafe. Lavaşını tercihinize göre oluşturup deneyebileceginiz durumlerde ceşit olarak dana kontrfile, tavuk bonfile, parmak köfte ve vejeteryan ana seçimlerine mantar, acı, köri, soğan veya avokado sosları ilave edebilirsiniz. Ayrıca özel lezzet olarak soğanlı ekmeği deneyebilirsiniz. Harika lezzetiyle en sevdigim durumcu.
I walked down to the ferry terminal after a long day of training and having to cross the Bosphorus from Kadikoy to Beşitaş (Asian to European side of Istanbul), and saw the ferry at the quayside. I raced to the gate only to see it closing majestically with me on the wrong side, and I watched as the ferry glide out of the port.
Once back in Taxim Tunel, I brought a wrap from a little corner café, La Cantine, (now closed), run by a French couple, plus a freshly squeezed orange juice. I was to have a relaxing time, watching British TV on the computer internet through Slingbox.
Slingbox is a great device that plugs into the back of say a satellite or cable TV box, that is then connected to the inter net router at home. Through the inter net connection in whatever country I am in, I can access the Slingbox back home and watch British TV, not only that, I can control the channels I want to watch.
The apartment I am staying in is on the forth floor, with a spiral staircase. Now I am used to running up stairs, but these seem so steep, everyone that climbs those stairs, has to rest half way up. They are a killer.
Spiral Stairs, Tunel Flat, Istanbul
I got to the door, gently holding my orange juice, my mouth watering at the prospect of eating my wrap. But the key would not turn.
Not three months earlier, I had returned back to the apartment to notice on the tough climb of the stairs, that there were pieces of metal laying by each flat door. I knew something was wrong.
On reaching my door, there was no point in trying to turn the key to open the door, there was no locking mechanism there, and the door was firmly shut and locked.
There was no-one in the whole building, I do not speak any Turkish. Oh Poo Poo. I called an ex employee who came to my aid, plus my translator Asu. We called a locksmith plus the police, only to find that yes we had been burgled. I had lost money, a camera.
Although I did not enjoy the experience, who would? I found the police here in Istanbul perhaps one of the most friendly I have encountered, even though we had to communicate via a translator.
The horror of that experience returned as I tried in vain to turn the key.
But I had Mustapha. I had the previous experience to draw upon. I called the same locksmith.
On his last visit he made sure that no-one would be able to break-in again. He was good, so good, that he took from 8:30 until 11:30pm to get in. That will teach him. Perfectionist. (Ho Ho). He had to used brute force.
Once in, it was realised that no-one had entered, it was the failure of the door locking gear. New door I think.
So by mid night I was in bed, knowing that 8am the next morning I would be picked up by car to get to the Eastern side to take the English language participants further along the process I do for easy learning.
8:10 am I get a phone call, asking if the car had arrived, as the person calling the General Manager of NLPGrup, Selva, could not reach the driver, his phone was off.
Only thing for it was to quickly catch the Tunel train and the ferry.
Walking down to the ferry terminal I passed under a bridge that crosses the water of the Golden Horn, and was amazed at the number of people standing on either side of the bridge fishing. There was not any spaces left. I would not like to sail a boat under that bridge. Looking around the Golden Horn, it seemed that the whole population of Istanbul had taken-up fishing.
Golden Horn Bridge
There must be some great memory skills in Turkey.
As we sailed across the Bosphorus I sat in the cold morning air on the outside deck, the sea was awash was quite a swell, and as we entered each trough, the ferry created a spray of salt sea water, refreshing my face, my mind.
As we moored the other side, I noticed how clam the water became, and realised that was the state I was in. Very calm, whilst all about me was in turmoil.
Yesterday, I had another lay-in, and then took the ferry to Kadikoy to the office/school to arrange the training courses for the rest of the year here in Turkey, and to have lunch in a small family run restaurant/café.
On my journey, I was able to watch people going about their day, some were in a hurry to get to meetings, some had nothing to do, some were tourists being overwhelmed by new sights and sounds.
La Cantine and Tunel Tram
They looked at the old tram which rumbles up and down Taxim Hill between Taxim Square and Tunel. A real old machines, lovingly maintained, which makes them a joy to ride.
Beside the tram stop a vendor sells the traditional Simit, a round ring of bread with I presume sesame seeds, the Turkish people love them, as there are vendors on every street corner, or you hear them shouting out for people to buy them as they balance a tray of the on their head, or you see them walking between the cars of the ever increasing traffic jams with simit’s strung on broom handles.
On my journey on the ferry to the Eastern side, I sat in the open stern, cold but enjoying the views of Istanbul. I look back to where we had just departed, as a young woman threw pieces of Simit into the air for the hungry seagulls to pluck midair, to the masses of apartments perched on the step hills of Istanbul.
There, I say the Galata Tower. From 1348 this tower has dominated the skyline of Istanbul, originally known as the Tower of Christ, it was a lookout tower of the Genoese colony called Galata. this 12-storey construction once functioned as a jail for prisoners of war, a shipyard, a warehouse and a fire station. Today the Galata Tower is one of Istanbul’s major attractions, offering fantastic views of the city and its landmarks. It is said that, an Ottoman citizen, Hezarfen Ahmet Celebi was the first person to fly, launched himself from the tower and crossed the Bosphorus.
Galata Tower from the Bosphorus
Again as we crossed to the other side, I saw the trade of the world happening as ships moored at the quayside to unload their cargo, and take new containers of goods to the rest of the world.
Tugs pushed the massive vessels into the quayside as they tied up, large cranes towered over containers stacked high on the decks. I wonder what is inside each container?
I was cold but enjoyed being alive, seeing life as it happens.
Today was my birthday, here in Istanbul, but nothing to do. Ho Ho.
I was asked to go to the training school (NLPGrup) to complete a certificate, and that is on the Eastern side of Istanbul, and I am staying on the Western near Taxim Tunel.
Istanbul is in two parts, the Eastern and Western sides, with the Bosphorus dividing the two, being the border between Asia and Europe, with about 13 million residents.
Crossing the Bosphorus
The journey across the Bosphorus takes about twenty minutes, and it is a time to relax, to take in the sights either side, the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia Mosque (The Pink Mosque), and many old palaces.
Today it was so grey, cold and with driving rain as the photographs show, but inside the ferry I was warm.
Bosphorus
The Bosphorus links the Aegean, the Med to the Black Sea, and ships all shapes and sizes of all countries carrying different cargoes pass through this narrow passage. To sit and watch the passing of these ships on the bank of the Bosphorus eating a Kumpir (hot jacket potato, filled with various filings) and a Turkish coffee brings to you how small our world is.
The one Turkish characteristic which does get at me sometimes, is the wish to be first. OK, I’m British, and we British are a nation of queuers, if there are more than three people in a line, we will join the line, knowing nothing of why we are waiting. But, the Turkish people just push in front, that also happens with the driving, especially the taxis.
Yet the people are so nice. They will take time to talk to you. I had a great conversation with my taxi driver on the way home tonight, trouble was my fare went up from the usual 6 lira to 10. Oh Poo Poo. Perhaps the traffic was very bad, or as the taxi drivers say:- “Istanbul, traffic, problem.”
Yes traffic is the same the world over, London, Paris, Shanghai, Kuala Lumpur.
So early to bed, I am told that Sky TV wants to interview me tomorrow.
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