Oh my goodness... early morning flight from Tunisia broke us into pieces, but Istanbul quickly put us back together promising that our stay in Turkey was gonna be nothing less than Chokyusar (phonetically speaking). We arrived and entered without a glitch. We were greeted by our gracious hostess Sevil at the airport and she immediately took us to visit a TV station we will be playing in tomorrow. It looks a little wild, the set is bright and so is the hostess dawning unforgetable royal blue glitter eyelashes, and probably feeling as uncertain about us as we were feeling about her, but we are open. They've already informed us that we will be doing some kind of arts and crafts and maybe some cooking, but that's alright cause I brought the Goya Sazon and Adobe and I'm ready. Don't leave home without it.After that, we were kindly whisked away to our Hotel rooms, acknowledging that we were so tired. We could not have imagined the view...the view...the view. Our hotel overlooks the Bosphorus and the Bosphorus Bridge (this was the first bridge built across the straits that divide Istanbul and seprate Europe from Asia. It is the world's 9th longest suspension bridge. You have got to see this to believe it. Anywho, the accommodations are exceptional, the view is a dream and all is well while we rest.
Tonight, Sevil has arranged for us to dine at a small restaurant with live music and authentic Turkish cuisine. We meet at the lobby but Steve and Gamal are nowhere to be found, that is, until we found them in their rooms, sick ad tucked away for the night. They did not get sick from Turkey, it seems they got sick in transit (perhaps the airplane food). They will not join us for dinner and that's a shame, because the nig
ht turns out to be a blast.
Before this trip, we had the great pleasure of meeting Sevil and her husband in NYC during a pre-tour dinner. There they ate mexican food and taught us a little turkish. Today they have it planned for us, but can't stay. We trust and we go. We arrive at the Taxim area, a long pedestrian street with great shops, lights and life. We look into windows spilling over with Turkish delights
and Sevils husband delights us with asinful box of all sorts of candies, as the trolly quickly rushes by parting the street like a ship on the Bosphorus. We take a turn, walk though the fish market and we are at the spot. We walk down a dimly lit alleyway and enter into a cozy and charming little place. Immediately I ask where the musicians will be playing as I see no stage. We are told they will be playing among the diners, at the tables. How great is that? Seville gives us the lay of the land, helping us select from a tray of appetizers,
as her husband writes down the name of a song we should request from the musicians, it is customary to make requests written on napkins. They leave us to our lonesome, and as we see them walk away, Ninja, Alexis and myself look at each other with a look of ---What now?...Here we go! The waiter gives us our menus and we order chicken shishcabobs with lord knows what else, they bring us the traditional drink, Raki (1 part Raki, 1 part water, and 2 parts crazy).
It tastes like black licorice jelly beans...Alright! , it's on. The musician spill in, playing traditional instruments, singing tradional songs, an experience untraditional to us. Be we were in for the ride. Only 3 tables had customers. A light night, but one of the tables next to us was getting toasted on Raki and singing every song the musicians played. Turns out a gentleman at that table was celebrating a birthday. The women got up and started dancing (belly like) as did the men. They invited us, we accepted and the party was on. We partied and partied and ate birthday cake and Ninja drank my Raki and all was happy in the land of Istanbul. I could go on and on about this night but I would feel so guilty talking about it :( as Steve and Gamal were back in their rooms, recovering. A little warm soup and hopefully they'll join us tomorrow.
