Well, getting into Turkey is a rather tedious and lengthy affair. Coupled with the multiple middle-of-the-night passport checks was a long wait to purchase stickers for our passports, get our passports stamped, and then an additional 3-4 hour wait at that stop (Svilengrad) before we actually left. (I don't know exactly how long that wait was, as Jay and I simply returned to our cabin and went to sleep.
We arrived in Istanbul to an unexpected surprise: nearly everyone we encountered was competent in English or German, often French, Italian, and other languages as well.
We went to find a left-luggage service, but it turned out that no such service existed - at least not in the capacity to which we were accustomed. An old man locked the strap of my bag onto a rolling cart, placed it near the restrooms, and left. Needless to say, we were rather uncomfortable with this system, so we came back periodically to make sure the bag was indeed still there (what we would have been able to accomplish, had the bag in fact been taken, is rather questionable).
In trying to get money from an ATM, my ATM card was rejected. I don't know the reason for this, but if Wells Fargo cut me off for trying to access my account in Turkey (in which case my card MUST have been stolen - why would I go to Turkey of my own free will, let alone want money there?)... I will be unimpressed.
Also, we need to check the transfer rate. If 1 YTL is in fact as close to the euro as the station attendant claimed (about 1.5 TYL in a euro), Turkey was a very expensive country by eastern European standards. This, coupled with the linguistic ability of its citizens and the general cleanliness of its cities (at least Istanbul) as compared to Bulgaria, makes me wonder at how Bulgaria will be joining the EU before Turkey.
On a similar note, the cultural differences were much less noticeable than we had been led to believe. I was not pestered, neither verbally nor visually, at all; women frequently wore jeans and tightly-fitting clothes; and, as it turned out, our luggage remained safe for an entire day, simply tucked into a corner. I defy anyone to try that trick in most American cities.
There were, however, also some noticeable distinctions regarding treatment of women: waiters were obviously more comfortable speaking with Jay and seemed taken aback when I ordered a soda (I'd let Jay order the food). Also, on the subject of food - wow. Apple tea and baklava are pretty much heaven, as are the many forms of kebabs (I prefer a mixed Shish, but the Döner is indeed classic).
After spending some time walking through the touristy area (Aya Sofia, Blue Mosque, Obelisks, and a small market filled with carpets, jewelry, scarves, and various trinkets), Jay was burnt-out by the constant presence of touts. They were everywhere, spouting any of 5-8 languages at us to try to engage us in conversation or to enter a particular shop. We therefore walked towards the water (Golden Horn) and sat people-watching near the ferry docks for a while before returning to the train station.
I have to say, I personally liked Istanbul a whole lot - possibly my favorite city on this trip so far (though Beograd was also quite comfortable). I feel as if Jay would have enjoyed it more too, if he had already been accustomed to touts. I am reminded of our time in Peru -- in Tacna, I believe, where I just broke down in the bus station and started yelling at the people offering taxis, buses, hostels, food, money changing, handmade dolls and whatever other random items. ("Yo NO quiero alojamiento ni comida ni esas muñequitas. No nesesito ningún taxi, ya sé dónde estoy y adónde voy y no, ya tengo mi boleto... Basta ya - ¡que se vayan!.") So, I do understand how Jay must have felt upon first encountering touts. And, it must be said, it's hard to feign ignorance or misunderstanding when they speak pretty much all known languages -- dammit, why did I not learn Swahili?
No comments:
Post a Comment