Last days in Istanbul. Things are heating UP!

The other day a women covered in baskets walked by our house with a new cry that I had not heard before, it was the first time I had seen her on our street for how often do you need to replace the basket that saves trips up and down the stairs. For the most part, we recognize all the regular street vendors who announce their pressence below our window;  the bread man , the vegetable man, the guy who collects random junk, mostly metal and the Aygaz propane seller, a super, catchy ditty is broadcast from his propane truck. There seems to be room here for very old, traditional ways and the trendy new approaches to exist simultaneously.  Recycling is dealt with by sorters who go through the garbage bins and sort out the plastic and the tin and the glass and the cardboard from the garbage garbage. Sorting ones own household garbage is not yet common, though there are beginning to be signs of "Don't be a fool recycling is cool" around.

As the temperature rises we spend more time in the drinking/eating laneways around Istiklal Caddessi. The narrow laneways are cool as the sun does not readily reach down in there and the many bars and restaurants spread tables all along  creating a breezy, convivial atmosphere. There is some great graffitti on the walls around there. Old dvd covers and records, the vinyl and the covers, have been re-purposed as menus and containers for your bill, all very groovy.

Another way to stay cool in the city heat is to hop on a ferry, for the same cost as a bus ride (1.3 TL) you can really go places. On Thursday, we headed to the Princess Islands in the Marmara Sea. We rode all the way to the BIG island Buyukada, about an hour and a half ride. Everyone had the same idea, since the ferry was really packed, standing room only inside and out, (a bit clausterphobic actually) but rather entertaining for an eavsedropper. Smoking has been recently banned on the ferries and supposedly smoking bans in all public places are coming into effect. Good luck with that. Everyone just smokes everywhere and smoking is very popular. As we disembarked the police took the young french "smokers" aside and were fining them for violating the smoking ban.  They were not the only ones smoking but seemingly the only ones being fined.  

The Princess Islands, throughout history were places of hiding, imprisonment and exile for various nobels (Leon Trotsky was there for a time too), are  summer get away places now with some lovely homes.  Tourists, like us, go there for day trips and what to do? A completely bizzare industry seems to be the leading source of employment and one of the main commercial activities. Taking a carriage ride around the island. You can rent bikes and ride around too but it was too hot and hilly for that. So, like obedient tourists we stood in line and did the obligatory carriage ride. There must be 300 or perhaps 500 carriages going round and round and then the carriage repair and the upolstering of the seats and the care and stabling and shoeing of the horses. (no grazing on this rocky island). There is no other transport on the island since cars are banned, but my romantic notions of carriages leisurely carrying people and goods around the island was shattered. After the ride we were delivered back to carriage central where from a tower the chief dispatcher shouts out orders and directions to the many drivers. Awful what effect tourists can have on a place. The whole thing just seemed absurd.

Speaking of transportation we were once again on the metro bus, what a fantastic bus. It is exacly that a "metro bus" with its own lane in the middle of the highway it travels fast and and made a very long trip out to Buyukcekmece much shorter. Out in Buyukcekmece we learned more about the culture of the unofficial  ambassadors "english teachers" and their extended community of both Turkish and international members. 

We also visited th beautiful Bospheros University campus between the two bridges and had lunch with a student we met and walked along the Bosphoros in the posh neighbourhoods around Bebek. The first year of the four year programs at the university is a preporatory year where the students concentrate on learning English since classes and reading for next three years are conducted in English.  Seemingly the official footwear of the students and actually many young Turkish people are Converse runners, low rise though some high tops too. They come in many colours and can event be bought with heels.

So we have eaten, kofte (Turkish meatballs), a delicious Turkish meat dumplings, manti (ravioli with yogert sauce) borek, menemen, gozleme, coban salad and plenty of freshly squeezed juice. We had a beautiful Thai meal to get a hit of hot food at Pera Thai and had lunch at the beautiful Kybele Hotel, where you eat in one of the joined salons under 4000 Turkish lanterns. I tried to get a job changing lightbulbs there but our waiter and seemingly the resident electrician said I was too short and he said that was his job changing about 100 light bulbs a week. Just below the Galata Tower we ate at the Karakoyum Restaurant, a roftop with a gorgeous view. 

This week we have stocked up on reading material, since there are many very good English bookstores. We also did some trading at Linda's Book Exchange which still runs Monday through Friday from 5-7 in our neighbourhood  Sehbender Sokak 18 (first door on the left) for people looking to trade English books. 

Like anywhere the small business people work hard, very long hours every day and the faces of the vendors in our neighbourhood have become familiar.  Oguz makes beautiful original necklaces from found objects and sets up his display on Glaipdede Caddessi 54. I never tired of seing the new ones he puts out daily.

A note about Turkish words: all the Turkish words I have used in this blog our incorrectly spelt since I have been too lazy to find the keyboard strokes for the many Turkish accents on various letters.....please excuse this sloppy spelling behavior.

What are we reading:

Yvonne-   Junot Diaz "The Brief Wonderus Life of Oscar Wao"

R2- Barbara Nadar: murder mystery set in Turkey "Harem" 

On Monday we take a plane to Athens then fly to Paros and ferry to Amorgos for a three month stay on the beach. This is the " learn to relax" portion of our trip and we are so ready to be at the beach! I tell you I am sure not going to miss that sunrise call to prayer. That must really mess with a person's sleep patterns. As Shahla would say "freedom from religion!"

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The Postcard Race: ROUND 3 Winners Announced

Congratulations Audrhea Lande and Lori Johnson from Winnipeg, Manitoba; they win round three of The Postcard Race. Audrhea confirmed receipt of her postcard Friday May 22, less than one week (if we take the time change into account), from when it was sent from Istanbul. Audrhea and Lori win "something mailed to them from another country". We are on our way to Amorgos in Greece on June 1st, I am sure we can find something there to send them.

Congratulations gals and please congratulate your very efficient postal worker for us!

The Postcard Race- Round 3

May in Istanbul

Akbil: a cute little, metal, musical ticket you load at vending machines in Istanbul. It allows you to ride trams or buses or trains or ferries or funiculars. Musical notes correspond to: your on, your still on (though not you first ride in 90 minutes) or a sad note tells you (and everyone around you) that your Akbil is out of cash and needs loading.

Istanbul is situated precisely above the North Anatolian Fault, one of the fastest moving and most active fault lines in the world. It shows similarities to the San Andreas fault in terms of age and structure and produces earthquakes of similar size and at similar intervals

Istanbul is on the banks of The Golden Horn a unique sheltered harbour with an open passageway to the Bosphoros, the Sea of Marmara and the Mediterranean. It is home to the second largest serving dockyards in the world after Venice.

Hamam/Turkish Bath: Like the “harem” and “belly-dancing” have all taken their place in the Western mind. Once a titillating constituent of the Orientalist imagination, it is today a nostalgic element of the western image of Turks, existing hamams cater mostly to tourists.

According to the year 2000 data there are 2562 mosques in Istanbul and all of them broadcast the call to prayer five times a day beginning at 5AM.

According to 2008 data there are 1,731,732 vehicles driving in the city, there are 73 parking lots with the capacity to hold 22,229 vehicles. In reality any urban surface can become a parking spot at any time no matter how many vehicles are blocked from movement.

Simit: The perfect marriage of flour, water, salt, yeast, grape molasses and sesame in wood fire. An army of simit-sellers seep every morning into the city after they load their mobile sales units from the stone-oven bakeries. Delicious!

The silent millions (or street cats and dogs), circulate in the city without any legal documentation. They are part of the neighbourhood fabric; by day asleep in a sunny spot. You see them everywhere and one migh even think they are worshipped here.

Hezarfen Ahmet Celebi, an inhabitant of Istanbul in the 17th century Ottoman Empire is credited with the first flight using artificial wings in the history of aviation. The event took place in the year 1638. Hezarfen took off from the 183-foot tall Galata Tower near Bosporus and landed successfully at Uskudar, on the other side six kilometers away.

Agatha Christie wrote her famous mystery “Murder on the Orient Express” at the Pera Palace Hotel in Istanbul.

First traffic accident occurred in 1912 at Sisli district of Istanbul, when the driver of the Italian Embassy hit a pedestrian and tried to run away from the scene.

The four bronze horses that decorate San Marco Cathedral in Venice, were taken from Istanbul (Constantinople back than) by the Crusaders in the 13th century.

A wind from the Black Sea

On Tuesday, a big wind was blowing, coming right up the Bosphorus from the Black Sea. This brought a welcome change in the hot weather. The sky went from a rather unattractive, monochrome haze to a nice blue with fluffly clouds; conditions more favorable to, walking around and picture taking ,(really our primary activity). There are apparently MANY names for the types of winds that pass through the city,  describing direction, intensity,  season and what they bring.  If we only spoke Turkish. I am sure the winds' names are beautiful and culturally insightful.

May 19th is a national holiday here that celebrates Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the founder of the Turkish Republic. The date marks the start in 1919, of his movement to establish the Turkish Republic and a modern secular state. Though the Turkish flag is beautiful,  leading up to the holiday there seemed to be a scary amount of flags raised but many of the huge flags have already been taken down. This past Sunday a large demonstration took place in Ankara (the capital) calling on the government to respect the secular state and not erode it by introducing Islamic Laws. Currently an rather conservative Islamic leaning government seems to be in power.  The abundance of flags could  just be a symbol of the desire to maintain a secular Turkey and not necessarily nationalistic frenzy.

We watch our satellite TV at night, there are many demonstrations around the country, in fact police  closed the metro and the whole Istiklal Caddesi  on May Day because of the demo in Taskim Square. The police here seem to be pepper spray happy, lucky thing they don't have Tasers, and are always in trouble for unnecessary spraying  of civilians.

The Street Dwellers: Cats and Dogs

The rise of the winds made our cats very playful. We look into the walled, church grounds from our window where a community of cats rule. "The Silent Millions" someone has called them BUT I would say not so silent but definitely millions. Playing "I spy a cat" in Istanbul is a full time occupation. Along the Golden Horn by the Galata Bridge is a fish market. A live sardine escaped from the vendors barrel and a cat sprang from nowhere faster than the seller could retrieve his little fish into the cats jaws and away. Everyone around laughed , one for the cat. People are so kind to the animals, I have seen no cruelty, just kind words, offers of food, pats and gentle coaxing if they happen to be somewhere where they shouldn't be. 

There is a street vendor stationed in Sultanahmat, just outside the hotel where Suzo and Emma stayed. Suzo thought she was hearing a very persistent cat; but no, the vendor sells awful, battery operated cats that make a constant meowing noise, I guess so you can take home some genuine Istanbul sounds.  

And the dogs, they are mostly asleep by day in sunny spots on the streets and in every green space and square. They are vagabonds that no-one bothers, periodically rolling enjoying the recent heat and sun. Every street and neighbourhood has its' dogs and they are protected, fed and given old blankets or pillows to lie on. They are sweet and quite passive. The municipality inoculates the dogs with a rabies shot and a red tag on the dogs ear proves the shot has been administered. There are a variety of opinions about the street animals and  periodically administrations try and do away with them BUT this is always met by public outcry. The street animals are part of the fabric of the city.

For us one of the sounds of the city has been the band "Alatav". This hardworking band plays regularly in  our square at Tunel and their folkie, worldly sound is always welcome on arrival at the square. Yesterday, we finally bought their homemade CD and have now been playing it at home.

What things cost?

Today one Turkish Lira is worth  .74 cents Canadian, (Today 1 Euro is worth 1.58 Canadian).

There seems to be no fixed price for anything here. Prices change  and we have gotten used to just paying whatever is asked for. At our corner store we point and ask for things, piling them on the counter and our friendly store owner , who tells us the Turkish word for all the products,  adds them up on his little calculator and just shows us a total. Sometimes we say: "wow that was cheap" and other times we say, "wow, that was a lot." Souvenir buying, now that is where prices wildly fluctuate. On Monday, we visited the Grand Bazaar and a retired man who hangs out at his nephew's jewelry store befriended us. After determining we were not interested in jewels we told him we were looking for a man's leather belt. (Gift for Yvonne's dad's birthday). Horrified that we would even consider buying anything in the bazaar he lead us though a labyrinth: up stairs and around back ways until we were out of the market on the street and into another whole collection of shops apparently the leather wholesalers to the bazaar stalls. We bought our belt at "the best price ever" I guess, and our friend returned us to the bazaar. He left us once we assured him that we would not be buying anything else.

-1/2 pound Espresso (not so good but the best we can find) - 7TL

-Lunch for two at the roasting meat spit near Galata Tower: 

(Two wraps with meat, 2 mineral waters (sodas)  - 8TL

-Five bananas - 5TL

-8 bananas 4 peppers, an onion, some little green sour fruits, 2 apples, tomatoes, - 11 TL

-mailing the post card race winners prize - 13TL

-17 ounce can of beer - 2.50

-all matter of beautiful pashminas - 10 - 70 TL

Simit - .50 or 1 TL

-Excellent pizza, 2 beers and a cappuccino at the House Cafe; in the lane-way of many bars and restaurants and graffiti (Firuzaga Mah. Bostanbasi Cadessi #19) - 55 TL with tip

-2 orders of damat pacasi at our new favorite restaurant on Timarci Sok called after the specialty "Damat Pacasi" along with 2-4 sodas -25 TL with tip (see pic: chicken wrapped in filo type pastry with yogurt and spices sauce)

-Lunch at the beautiful Kybele Hotel in our private salon: chicken kebab plate (me) clubhouse (yvonne) sodas, beer and cappuccino -47 TL

-really delicious homemade lemonade- 4.5 TL 

-glass (sizes vary) fresh squeezed juice (depends on what fruit combo) 1- 5 TL

-taxi ride from Sultanahmat to our house in Galata - 12TR when neither  taxi driver nor us knew where we were going to; supreme rip off ride of 30TL when the guy didn't even take us to our door but left us near Tunel Square and played the trick of saying we gave him the old obsolete currency (No taxis since). 

-Our apartment for a month with drives to and from airport - 1480 Euros

Our hair has never looked better or so we think. 

(A small commercial)

We needed shampoo and conditioner and bought the greatest stuff ever! The shampoo has laurel oil and olive oil and the conditioner a paste of bay leaf.  All hail DFN Garli , can someone import this to Canada?

And speaking of hair and fashion:

Anything goes fashion wise here. Many men in our neighbourhood, particularly the ones frequenting the lane-way bars, long haired, scruffy yet elegant, smoking looking like sixties revolutionaries. The suit wearing men are sporting pink shirts or at least a pink or purple ties. The women's fashion is all over the map. Most interesting and very different than what I am used to is the variety of headscarfs. At this juncture; politically women are not required to wear or not wear headscarves. Headscarves are NOT allowed in learning institutions and women who for religious reasons or family pressure must cover their hair wear wigs in those places. It may not be choice but tradition, family pressure, practical protection on the street in some neighbourhoods, chastity, belief or simply fashion. But the variety of headscarves, the colours and designs are just beautiful and make people watching all that more fascinating. 

In some cases headscarves seem just  another marvelous accessory to match long buttoned coats that go well below the knees, matching handbags and heels. All and all they are super colourful and very fashionable. 

What we are reading:

It is so great to have reading time:

yvonne:

Exiles in America - Christopher Bram

Pomegranate Soup - Marsha Mehran

Three Cups of Tea - Greg Martenson

2666- Roberto Bolano

rachel

The Lonely Planet guide to Experimental Travel

Pastoralia - George Saunders

Tales of Protection - Erik Fosnes Hansen

both

The Bridge - Geert Mak

Becoming Istanbul - various

The Postcard Race Round 3 (STILL NO WINNER)

Tomorrow marks a week since postcards were mailed from Istanbul still no winner!

The Postcard Race ROUND 3

The sad news about Istanbul is that there are NO Mailboxes! But don't worry postcards for Round 3 were sent. The handicap entries (those living outside major centres) left directly from the PTT (Post Office) on Istiklal Caddesi on May 14th.  The rest of the postcards were dropped into the International slot at the beautiful, main post office building in the old city; Sultanahmat on May 15. 

Round 3 features "interesting things about Istanbul". The first person to notify us  (by telling us on the blog or emailing yvonne or rachel) that you have received the postcard and to relate the "interesting istanbul" thing on the back will win  "something mailed to you from another country!"  Good Luck everyone!

Round Two Winner; your package is in the mail to you. Please let us know once it arrives! I carefully package the winner's prize only to have to unwrap the super padded, carefully taped contents and show the postal workers what I was mailing. This is I understand common practice for anything you want to mail from Turkey. 

In any case, the postal workers were unimpressed with my newspaper wrapping job and as related to me by a kind man who spoke English trying to do business at the post office, they insisted I go and purchase a padded envelope to carry my goods. With the kind man's directions, I located a stationary store in the area (since why would they sell this kind of thing at the post office!) and through persistence and cheerful determination the postal workers finally accepted my package and hopefully have mailed it away. I have enclosed a picture of the goods here. (The photo was not good enough for those snoopy postal workers) I am hoping the package finds it way to you in Toronto Kris.

Getting to know Galata and other places too.....

Sometimes it's all abut the view or How is Istanbul like Vancouver?

We live in the super cool neighbourhood of Beyoglu (formerly known as Pera). Wandering the streets you can find; tucked next to a chandelier shop or a tile maker; a coffee shop gallery where you can have a cappuccino  for the price of a three coarse meal two doors down.  The buildings are old, really old with crumbling stairs and pealing walls and strange smells and lots of dust and pigeons holes. The other day we made our way up 96 stairs, in what seemed like a pretty sketchy, deserted building, we arrived at the top and as promised, there was a very well appointed restaurant with a superb view. The cliental was a variety of hipsters and fashionistas, women dressed to the nines in heels and all I could think of was: Were they helicoptered up here? I could not imagine them making the trip through the building up those stairs. We enjoyed the view and our 20 Turkish lira G&T and 10 Turkish lira beer (a small one at that).  

There is a sliver through the buildings so we can see the Bospheros from our bedroom window, views are the cache of Istanbul and many men stand on street corners luring tourists through the strangest places to arrive at a lovely rooftop restaurants with beautiful views. We visited the Istanbul Modern, a contemporary gallery situated right on the water in a converted warehouse. The coffee shop has a excellent view but when the cruise ships  arrive they park right in front of those cafe windows. How does that change your work environment? The cruise ships are HUGE.

Gentrification is going on before our eyes in this area and the urban transformation will definitely change the nature and inhabitants of the historic parts of Istanbul over the next few years, think Soho. Think twice before moving on down though since Istanbul is built a top the North Anatolian Fault and they too await "The Big One!" Gated communities in the suburbs  use the prospect of an earthquake as good reason to move inner city inhabitants to their brand new "safe" homes.

The Galata Tower, a longstanding landmark, is the heart of our confusion of streets,  in 1638, Herarfen Ahmet Celebi took off from the 183 foot tower using artificial wings he had built and flew six kilometres to the other side of the Bospheros. He is credited with the first flight ever in aviation history. The ruling sultan at the time gave him a sack of gold and exiled him to Algeria, since "he was capable of doing anything he wished". I would have had him make wings for all my enemies.

To get to Istiklal Caddessi (The Champs Ellysees of Istanbul) we climb a short, but steep, narrow hill and that hill is a parking lot. It is very entertaining to watch at the end of the work day as the car jockeys extract cars from the jumble without hitting other cars, pedestrians or just the traffic that goes up and down.  There is a lot of honking and shouting and skill involved in maneuvering on such an incline.

The question is why anyone would drive here at all? We have seen cars making their way through the narrow streets and suddenly they are behind a delivery truck  stopped right in the middle of the street to unload , (there is no where to pull over) you might try to back up but if a train of cars is behind you why not just get out, have a smoke, order a tea, perhaps a game of backgammon because your going to sit there for quite a while. Honking is a subtle musical art and can be used for simple greeting or call to arms. 

We have spent many hours browsing on Istiklal Caddessi, an only pedestrian, (well mostly only pedestrian street) lots of buskers, bookstores, musical instruments, and every kind of store including of course Starbucks and Lush. 

One of my favorite things to eat is a simit from the mobile simit cart on Istiklal. The simit is like a bagel, made in a stone oven; (flour, water, salt, yeast, grape molasses and sesame) and they have a sweet version also delicious. A good way to eat eggs in Istanbul is in the memomen dish: eggs, onions, peppers and spice. Yvonne promises a more thorough discussion of the food here in a later posting. 

Leaving the Neighbourhood

From the south end of the Istiklal Caddessi we can take the funicular (Tunel) down the hill and cross over the Galata Bridge into Sultanahmat (the old city and touristaramadama land). The bridge is nothing to look at (especially considering the gorgeous suspension bridges that cross the waters); but  is a community all of its' own; from early morning till late at night and apparently in all seasons fisherman (mostly men but a few women) line the bridge on either side and fish. We are in a city of somewhere from 15 to 20 million people existing along the water spanning over 250 miles; where does all that sewage go?  Fishing? Under the bridge on either side is a line of restaurants where you can eat fish, drink beer and gaze either up the Bospheros or down the Golden Horn. We bought a book written by Geert Mak a Dutch writer called "The Bridge" which describes the super interesting history, people and culture of the  Galata Bridge. The fishing seems to be mostly about a place to be, a hobby, a lifestyle, being part of something, a way to relax.

We love our little akbil, which is like a FOB that you load at vending machines and  it allows you to ride trams, buses, funiculars and ferries and the metro bus.  It makes a variety of musical noises that tells you: your on, you are still on (though not your first ride in 90 minutes) and a sad noise that tells you (and everyone around you) that your akbil is empty and needs loading. Last Sunday we travelled about 200 miles round trip in a transportation adventure (the metro bus being the highlight) all the way to Buyukcekmece on the Marmara Sea.  We visited Vancouver friends who are teaching english here. They taught us how to say Turkish words using English words and gave us some good advice and cultural insights.

The early summer heat has arrived and the weather is perfect (low 20s). Today we took a ferry ride; the passengers were mostly tourists and the mad rush for the best seats on the boat was scary and reminded us that we had all read some version of the same guide book and needed to get to the correct place to sit. We travelled to the north end of the Bospheros to the community of Anadolu Kavagi  almost at the Black  Sea. There we ate fish (mackerel) and shopped at the general store and at Emel Tokas Art House.  We toasted my friend Mrs Hedlin (who I learned today died last week) she was from the Tynemouth on the sea near Newcastle and so I felt the location was somewhat appropriate to think of her.

 

We are now sufficiently acclimatized and armed with advise to return to Sultanahmat and be tourists. In that neighbourhood especially, but certainly not exclusively, the constant haranguing of men wanting you to eat in their restaurants or buy their carpets is enough to drive us away. Once happily settled in a restaurant or shop comes the next level of inquiry of the nature of our relationship and the possibility of having tea. Tea being the ritual substance that seals the shopping deal or opens the door to more intimate dialogue or relations.  Since we are not interested in "tea" I have developed two very un- Canadian strategies, be rude and be Australian they don't take any shit and are not afraid to say what has to be said in a powerful way.  (Yvonne says my accent needs work.)  All credit to Kate. 

But on the other hand the tea the tea of many flavours is a vital cultural component here. It is served in lovely little glasses, everywhere . The most beautiful sight I have seen in Istanbul is the men who deliver tea. They are so focused and elegant travelling from who knows where to who knows where with a gorgeous silver tray and sometimes one simple lovely glass of tea. We first saw them at the Grand Bazaar, where I hope to photograph them later this week. 

 

Between the chaos and the madness: Istanbul

Coming from Amsterdam to Istanbul is a bit of a shock. We don't speak a work of Turkish BUT as planned there was my name on a piece of paper and a driver waiting to take us to our apartment and  next to our driver were Emma and Suzo and Jeseka. This was an unplanned coincidence. They were arriving from Riga in Latvia and well our drivers were standing next to each other and though we were scheduled to arrive at different times Emma and her party had been whisked through customs and visa rigamarole and so we had emerged practically together. 

We have been spending most of the past week with them doing a variety of activities including visiting some of the top tourist destinations: engineering marvels: (Haiga Sophia & the Cisterns), art wonders the Chora Church with the ancient christian themed Byzantine murals and the shopping extravaganza of the Grand Bazaar. We have learned to travel on the trams and take the funicular and have visited both ends now of our extremely curvy street (Serdar-i-Ekram  Sak) in Beyoglu so we know where we are and how to get back here. Touring around with Emma in her wheelchair in a mostly not very accessible city adds a whole other dimension, but Jeseka and Suzo are fearless and determined drivers and well we pretty much went where we wanted. 

So our friends left for Dubrovnik this morning and we are sad but have considerably slowed the pace.

Today we searched for and successfully discovered the Galata Tower, we live very close to it, but with all the hills and curves and turns and tiny crowded streets it becomes invisible until you get right below it.  The views from the tower are spectacular.

So we have traded the Amsterdam sounds:  water lapping against canal walls, boat motors, the whirling of bicycle wheels and clanging of chain locks and the morning visit of the Heineken truck clattering bottles re-supplying the square; for Istanbul sounds: the five AM call to prayer (and the 4 other calls from the mosque minaret just outside our window), the bread sellers cry in the morning, the after school street play of the many neighbourhood kids and the colony of cats that frolic at night. I believe there are more cats here than bicycles in Amsterdam. (way more) Let's talk abut the dogs later!

Last days in Amsterdam

It has been a week since Queen's Day in Holland our last day in Amsterdam!

Queen's Day

Queen's Day was a holiday unlike anyone I am used to. The whole country participates in a giant garage sale. People stake out their selling spots the day before with tape on the sidewalks marking where they will display their wares , bridges seem to be prime real estate. If you are not selling or strolling and buying;  you are boating and drinking or perhaps just drinking. My favorite thing was a gambling game set up by a woman and her young assistants, it was a ball race where you bet on one of the coloured balls and could double your 1 euro bet if your ball came in. It was a great game, best understood by having a look at the photo below. Others had set up their entire living room on a bridge where they lounged, drank, watched and were watched.