My mother and I had a lot in common. As I think back on her at the age I am now, I can see the likeness in a number of ways. Neither of us very social. Content to spend time alone, being the main similarity. I fall very short regarding charity work. Mom excelled at this and involved herself in the church. She was amazing in that way.
While in her alone time she would sit in front of the TV doing crochet or knitting, like most of my friends do, I do things on my iPad. Producing nothing of lasting value. I should get back to crocheting again. However, I have all the cloths I need from Mom’s work and have made double bed blankets for all the family, and we don’t need more.
When mom died and I had to clear out her bedroom, there were three full shelves of hand knitted jerseys to find homes for. Countless times I would suggest that she give some away, but she loved each and every one of them and could just not decide which ones to keep.
What I am experiencing now, she went through as well. The illnesses affecting friends and the loss of others. Lets face it, this is not a very exciting stage we find ourselves in, but the way we approach each of these challenges, find strength from adversity and humour wherever possible is the best way to go forward.
And on that special advice, let’s go back to Turkey…
Our next step was to visit the Grand Bazaar. It is hard to try to explain the vast size of this Bazaar. It covers a huge area and is all under roof. The shops are tiny, about the size of a main bedroom, but some are as small as a toilet.
One can buy anything there. Leather goods, carpets, food, clothing, material, plates etc. Fred was uncanny about direction and was able to get us home at all times without too much of a detour, but he had to admit defeat after spending three hours wandering around in this warren.
We eventually made our way home, had a traditional kebab with rice and a tomato, onion and chilli salad. We drank only bottled water while there – never tap water – and didn’t experience any problems with tummy bugs.
The next day we decided to catch a ferry to take us to the opposite side of the Bosporus to visit the Dolmabahce Palace. This ferry ride took us to Hareme, in Asia, and then a further one took us to our destination. This was one place where we did buy a tourist book. One was only permitted to take photographs inside the palace if you paid 500,000 Turkish Lira, and then you were not permitted to use a flash!
The palace was magnificent but I am not going to put pictures of the interior into this blog. But if you are interested, please Google search it and go through the lovely photos on the web. We were escorted through each room, only being allowed to walk on the red carpet, accompanied by armed guards.
What took my fancy, once we left the interior of the building, was to see the guards keeping watch outside. They were positioned at two of the gates. At the entrance gate there was only the one guard. He stood on a plinth of marble with his right hand holding the barrel of his rifle to the side of him.
His left hand held onto his bayonet on his left buttock. His two feet were spread fairly wide. At first he looked as though he was a mannequin – not even blinking an eye. Visitors walked up to him and posed around him. Then, all of a sudden we heard a noise and saw “the changing of the guard”.
The original man moved and got off the podium and the second guy got onto it. After he had positioned himself to his satisfaction, the first guard came to look at him. He straightened his replacement’s clothing, checked the pants crease, the neck wrap was lifted and properly positioned, the drape of the sleeve on the arm was adjusted and his head was correctly tilted and the eyes were looking in exactly the right spot. When he was satisfied, he turned and left.
I could have sworn that the person on the podium was another mannequin. I have no idea how long they had to stand there in the full sun in their black uniform, but stand they do!
Our next trip was to walk to Taksim Square. Not far away, said Fred! The reason that he wanted us to go there was to book our tickets on the bus that would take us out of Istanbul and on the way to Izmer. Well, Taksim Square was elusive. It was an uphill walk which lasted approximately an hour. Eventually I asked someone where it was, and was told that it was in the opposite direction. This was not a good start of the day, but it got better on our way back to the bridge.
The other reason Fred wanted to see this particular area was that there were plenty of very old cars found there. These were all in excellent condition and a lot of them were in use as taxis. He wasn’t disappointed.
We were on one of the steepest streets in Istanbul, but found a lovely family run tea room off one of the back streets. This little shop was not a tourist attraction and they served me the best shawarma and salad that I had ever tasted. They were very friendly and this treat made up for the sore feet. By the time we got back to the hotel, however, I was bushed.
I digress a little here, but think it is of interest to know. Before leaving Pietermaritzburg to start this epic journey, I bought myself a pair of very expensive Nike Trainers. I had been warned that there would be plenty of walking. Fred, on the other hand, went to Makro and bought a R69 pair of High Tec shoes.
When he showed them to me I was worried that he would not be comfortable enough. But the truth was, he got back home to South Africa and had no foot problems at all, while my famous Nike’s were the start of all my foot problems experienced from then on!
And I think this is a good time to end off for today.
Blessings and love 💕
