I don’t know who did what to cause tension between Turkey and Canada, but the politicians and policy makers need to remedy their stubborn little feud.  Arriving at the Istanbul airport for my two-day stay I stood gasping at the price list for tourist visas.  All down the columns were numbers like 10, 10, 10, 15, 15, 10, and 45.  Yes, that 45 Euro price tag was only attached to Canadian Passport holders.   As Canadians we have to pay at least three times that of other foreign nationals just to enter Turkey.  It is a 90-day visa, however when I asked about a prorated 2-day price, but they were having none of it.

            I had been debating back and forth the cost effectiveness of even flying into Istanbul for only a two-day visit.  What tipped the scales for me was baklava.  Baklava is a little sweet Turkish pastry, and I haven’t really been able to find that quality anywhere else in the world.  And the best place to find it is in Istanbul. 

Once again an old colleague picked me at the airport; I had taught with Jan years ago and visited her in Turkey previously.  As I am so accustomed, we drove from the airport to her apartment, picked up supplies, showed me to my private room and then we proceeded to snack on baklava and taste baklava and sip wine while she and her boyfriend organized my trip for me.

            Istanbul is a big city of about 16 million people; it straddles the Bosporus River on both the European and Asian continents.  I was reminded of my previous visit and the daily ritual of the dolumus ride down to the docks to get on a boat and cross to the European side from my last trip.  This time however I had a local guide, Jan’s boyfriend, Gokhan, grew up in Istanbul.  He is a first officer on a shipping boat and is often out at sea for months at a time.  I think he was rather eager about the prospect of showing off his city and I am one to never turn down a guided tour.  It was a good tour; we stopped for street food in all the best Turkish places and wandered the markets and alleys with an ease that would have taken me a week to stumble through with only a map and my guidebook.  The Turkish Bank museum and shopping for pirated DVDs in an underground shop are not in a normal package holiday.  I could tell Gokhan was having a good day too; as the day wore on he was using the Turkish mannerisms of holding my elbow to talk to me and slapping me when he told jokes.  If we in the west feel that the general friendly behaviour between males in a Muslim country is awkward to see, it is even more awkward to be the recipient of.  However I am not one to let a little cultural ignorance and insecurity ruin an efficient day.

            Eventually it was time to relax and enjoy a beverage.  We first walked into a touristy restaurant that had a balcony overlooking the Haigh Sofia and the Blue Mosque.  I remember the food here from my previous visit to be bland and overpriced; what else to you expect for a Turkish restaurant filled with foreigners less than 100 meters from two of the cities biggest tourist attractions. The price of a pint was 16 Turkish pounds; we left.  Up the street and around the corner, Gokhan took me to a place he and his friends go to which was just a little down an alley.  We had 4 beers for the same 16 pounds.   As they say in real estate location is everything, and getting off the main streets and into the back alleys makes a huge difference.

            Reflecting on a good day we comprised a plan for the night and my last day.  I had already done the tourist tour and we had narrowed down a few stores for some shopping items to pick up; there was really only one thing in Turkey I haven’t tired.  Turkish bath houses are infamous for their hospitality.

            I had put off a trip to a hamman last time and figured that two trips to Turkey would not be complete without a visit.  Another Turkish past time must be watching the foreigners paying to get beaten up in the bathhouses.  It is nothing like a massage that you would get at a spa in this part of the world.  To start with you wrap yourself up in a blanket and pour hot water all over yourself in a huge steam room.  When you are relaxed enough you lye down on a giant circular marble stone that sits in the middle of the room.  Then a guy comes to give you the massage.  He starts by twisting you up like a pretzel and punching you in the back and chest.  Then it felt like he stuck me with a knife and drew the blade down my calf muscles.  For the next fifteen minutes I felt like I was in a UFC cage match taking the worst of a ground and pound attack.  The finishing move was when he leveraged both my arms behind my back and stomped his foot between my shoulder blades.  It was at this point that Gokhan finally spoke up and we were done.  I paid about 50 pounds for the effort.  I walked out feeling better, but not sure if I was abused or not?  The next day I found a footprint shaped bruise on my back that lasted for a week.  Gokhan just laughed and said he had never even seen that technique before.

            Regardless of how I felt after my beating, we were not going to waste the opportunity for two nights out on the town.   Jan met up with us for a huge seafood dinner at one of their favorite restaurants.   I love the Istanbul nightlife; the city is such a rare mix of Western and Eastern cultures.  The main area for restaurants and clubs is Sultanahmet and it starts to fill up in the late afternoon and doesn’t quiet down until the bakeries are serving up coffee and pastries in the wee hours of the morning.  In our two nights we frequented back alley pubs, roof top dance bars, patio bars, and of course a few good places to eat. A round of drinks on a patio that overlooks the entire cityscape can cost as much as a full dinner way off in the distant cafes in other areas of the city.    Istanbul has been a prosperous city since its founding Byzantium times, the people living and visiting here like to enjoy their life.  There is no end to the adventure that exploring the culture here has to offer. 

            I finished up some shopping for a few gifts and trinkets on my last day and the three of us enjoyed another day and night in the city.  Two days is not enough to even scratch the surface of what the city has to offer.  Luckily my tourist visa is still good until the end of August if I feel the urge to return for another taste. 

The underground Roman cisterns.

There were two Medusa heads carved into the marble pillars that supported the city above.