Turkey > Friends in Üsküdar

We get up around ten o’clock. After a (cold) shower and breakfast, we start doing laundry. After much insistence, the hotelier brings hot water. Around 11:30, we head toward the Sultan’s palace, which was in use until 1909. First, we pass through the ring wall surrounding the palace, then we arrive at the main entrance. Interestingly, we run into the two Belgians from yesterday.Inside the large palace, we follow the tour according to a copied booklet. The tour takes us to the kitchen, the pages’ quarters, and the rooms of the harem. To visit the harem itself, a separate ticket is required, and tours are limited to groups of 60 people. Just before our group, the English tour is sold out, so we are stuck with German. The harem gives insight into how the Sultan, his mother, and his wives lived.During the tour, a heavy thunderstorm breaks out, giving us the first rain of our vacation.

Turkey - The Sultans palace in Istanbul

Water rushes down the gutters, and the tour ends abruptly. We shelter for a while. Fortunately, the weather quickly clears, and we continue our tour of the palace. In one hall, we ask a Turkish visitor a question, and he immediately starts acting as a free guide for us. He studies at the University of Istanbul. We end up having a debate with him about whether the depiction of Muhammad’s hair casts a shadow or not. Unfortunately, we have no video camera with a light to prove our point.By now it is almost five o’clock, and the palace is closing. We go outside.We have run out of money and search for a bank, but all are closed. The only option is to exchange German marks at a hotel. With money in hand, we can manage again. We plan to cross the Bosporus to Asia by boat. However, our palace visit took longer than expected, so we first eat something at a harbor-side restaurant. The restaurant serves only kebab meals. Probably due to the early hour, we are the only guests, but the staff panics because none of them speak a word of English. Someone from the family is quickly summoned from upstairs. Although we don’t fully understand the order, the food tastes quite good. We finish the meal with a traditional Turkish tea.At the quay, it is now rush hour. We board an overcrowded boat to cross to the Asian side of Istanbul. Along the way, we wonder when exactly we are in Asia—is it at departure, halfway, or only upon arrival? We celebrate all three milestones. At first glance, Asia does not look much different from Europe. When we sit at a terrace in Asia, it starts to rain. We plan to walk back to Europe over the large bridge, but when we ask how to reach it, we learn that walking across the bridge is forbidden—it is a motorway only.

Turkey - Introduction to the Turkish drink Raki

The man offers to drive us across, but only after he finishes his meal. When we also ask him about a good disco in Istanbul, he knows an excellent one in Üsküdar, the Asian district. He takes us there. Until the disco opens, we are his guests. He offers us drinks along with his friend. After translation into German by the waiter, we learn that the two men are members of the parliament of Üsküdar. He also makes us try Raki, a Turkish ouzo.After more than two hours, we head to the disco. By now, it is clear that the gentlemen have enormous interest in the ladies. At the entrance, our shorts are objected to. After a heated discussion, the parliamentarian gets us inside. The disco has a pool and a large open-air dance floor. Extra chairs are quickly brought for us. Just as we sit down, the conversation with the gentlemen rapidly turns to “group sex.” We plead “Do not understand.” The waiter translates, saying the same, and adds in Dutch that the two men are not sane. That is enough reason for us to leave, and we suddenly “don’t understand English” anymore. We figure out how to get back to Europe ourselves. Before we can walk toward the exit, the two men pass by, saying nothing and walking away angrily. We stayed in the disco for only about another hour. Around 2:30 a.m., we take a taxi back. The ride goes over the bridge—it is quite a distance. At the hotel, the meter reads 81,000 Lire (appr 20 gulden). The remaining change of 100,000 Lire never appears, which we accept. Exhausted from fatigue and Raki, we collapse into bed.