It was pouring rain this morning and it looked like the skies were going to be cloudy all day. We had breakfast at the hotel and decided to head out to the Grand Bazaar anyway.
We took the tram from the train station to the stop near the Bazaar and were soon enveloped in its chaos. color, insane variety and persistently-creative shopkeepers. We had been there about 10 minutes before Karen pointed to a guy near us and said 'I think I know him.' Indeed, it was a Portland attorney and his wife, that she knew from her Workers Comp days. Funny.
We wandered and wandered, taking it all in. The most interesting stall I found was one selling old Ottoman maps and miniature illustrations, clearly from old books. They appeared to be genuine stuff (the owner claimed that his family had been there for over 200 years). I left and returned three times, and were deep in negotiation for an amazing map from about 1860 - he got down to 325 dollars, but we decided that it was too fragile to carry around for two weeks. We promised to come back on our last day before returning home, and had him mark the position of his stall on the map in my guide-book. His response was 'I have heard that before,' and I can't say I blame him.
We got a cheap, yummy lunch there in the market, bought a couple of t-shirts, looked at a few more aisles, and headed out into the bright sunshine - it had turned into a beautiful day.
In the neighborhood is one of the large mosques - the Nuruosmaniye. We sat on the steps to rest and watch the crowds entering and exiting the Grand Bazaar. The mid-day call to prayer sounded and the faithful came. As everyone was leaving we were approached by a crusty old gent, who asked where we were from. Turns out that Mustafa had been in the States a couple of times and his English was pretty good. We chatted about Bush (hated him) and Obama (liked him), the Iraq war, US-Turkey relations, and his sons, who have still not produced grandchildren for him. It was very nice, but, after he left, we decided not to go back into the bazaar to visit his shop, as invited.
We ambled thru the twisty streets and eventually worked our way back to Aya Sophia. We strolled thru the peaceful Gulhane park, then grabbed the tram over the Galata Bridge. We got out and followed our upwards instincts to the Galata Tower. It was a climb and, fortuitously, there was an elevator to the top (10 lira apiece). The view up there was, as you might expect, spectacular. We stayed for a while, drinking in the 360 degree views of this surprisingly-enormous city.
We walked downhill (duh!). crossed the Golden Horn on the Ataturk bridge, and returned to our hotel's neighborhood, stopping in a busy neighborhood to buy pistachios and to find the last destination on my Istanbul check-list - the Rustem Pasha mosque.
It's another of those Sinan-the-architect wonders - a small mosque like the Sokollu Mehmet Pasha we saw on our 2nd day, but with flamboyant Iznik tiles. Took many photos of the exterior and interior. Amazing place.
It is now 6;15 pm and I am too tired to look for a colon. We are back at the hotel and about to head to the sauna again. We leave for the airport at 8 am tomorrow - the adventure continues.
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