A Feast in the Desert

Following Istanbul our next stop was Dubai.  We'd been there before in 2008 and I think it's fairly safe to say that we didn't think much of the city back then.  But our friends Dean and Hamsah have lived there for years and we were finally in a decent position to go for a visit.  

We were on a flight that arrived in Sharjah (the next emirate over from Dubai) at 02:05.  We sat outside the airport in the warm night air amongst dozens of Pakistani and Indian expats, trying to access the airport wifi, which we learned could only be done using a code obtained on the far side of passport control in the departures area only. 

Although we argued strenuously that we'd known what we were getting into when we booked it and that getting to their place ought to be our problem as a result, and despite our communications issues, Dean very kindly came and picked us up at 03:00.

We spent a week in Dubai.  And mostly because we got to spend time with Hamsah and Dean (and kids Alina, Adam and Zoe), we enjoyed it more than on our previous visit.

We were staying in downtown Dubai, which didn't exist when we were last there.  And downtown Dubai actually has sidewalks and pedestrian crossings, and when it's not furiously hot outside (like in late November, for example) it's even modestly pleasant to walk around.  We were within walking distance of the mall of Dubai, with its huge lagoon, dancing musical fountains (and free wifi for playing a bit of Pokemon Go). And of course the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world, which looked smaller than I'd expected, probably mostly because it was completely surrounded by dozens of 50+ storey towers.

We made a return visit to the Dubai Creek area, busy with gold and souvenir sellers, dhows crossing back and forth or coming and going from the gulf and tourists arguing with dinner cruise sellers about exactly what they'd been promised about their boat trips.

And unlike last time we visited, there are actually (very!) nice and accessible public beaches (prior to 2010 there weren't really public beaches with facilities and good access, so if you wanted to visit one your only options were private beach clubs or hotels).  I went for my first swim in the Persian/Arabian Gulf (the naming of it is a subject of much contention between the countries on each side). The water was very, very warm, and clearly much saltier than the Mediterranean, leaving the body with the same sort (if not magnitude) of oily feeling as the Dead Sea.  (Incidentally, they take the idea that if you're not in sight of the ocean your togs are actually undies, with signs along the boardwalk right behind the beach saying that wearing swimming costumes [only] is prohibited while walking along it).

While there were new attractions to our visit, like on the previous time, I think the biggest attraction in Dubai was eating.  Cheap or fancy, Dubai is a great place to eat food from all over the world (both figuratively, as in cuisines from many different regions and literally, as in most of the food eaten in the emirate is imported).  

During our stay we ate fabulous Pakistani, Lebanese, Japanese and South Indian food, drank quite a bit of pretty good coffee, and we had brunch.  Expat brunches in Dubai are kind of legendary.  They take place on Friday late morning to afternoon, and they have, to varying degrees, become bacchanalian feasts.  Ours was out on the famous reclaimed palm tree shaped suburb extending out into the gulf. Brunches at fancy hotels with "drinks packages" don't come cheap.  We had two for one discounts from the Dubai equivalent of the Entertainment Book, which brought the damage to around NZD100 per person. I think we got our money's worth though, eating huge quantities of Ceviche and sashimi and Wagyu roast beef and French cheeses and drinking similarly vast quantities of Gin! and tonics, red snappers, wines, beers… everything on offer really.  At Dubai drinks prices I suspect that our food and the last three or four drinks apiece were effectively free!

In addition to being silly with the adults, I also had a lot of fun being silly with Adam and Alina and making Christmas decorations and watching ridiculous movies on TV.

The week passed by remarkably quickly and it came time for us to leave.  Or at least try to. First we struggled to find the bus station for the bus to Oman.  Then to figure out how to buy tickets. Then we discovered that, being the Sunday after a long weekend in Oman, tickets were sold out for the next three days.  Then finding the other bus company that does the route.  Then finding that they too were sold out for the day.  Then spotting a taxi with Oman plates, but also with a driver who wanted around NZD400 to do the trip. And finally deciding that the best option was to forego one night of our non-refundable hotel booking in Muscat, buy tickets for the following afternoon and enjoy one final night in the company of our friends.

The next day Hamsah drove us to the bus company office ("Bus departs at three, but be there at two, because it could go any time after that…"). And with a couple more hugs, farewells and assurances that we'd see one another soon, we were finally on our way out into the desert towards Oman.

Feribot!

This was my fourth and Sarah's third trip to Istanbul.  One of the best things about revisiting a place is that you've already done all the "must do" sightseeing things and you can approach the place with a more relaxed attitude.  Another is that (even if it takes a few visits with a huge place like Istanbul) you have a good handle on the geography and can nail down the place to stay that best fits you and your plans.

To this end we decided to stay in Üsküdar, a busy neighbourhood on the eastern (Asian) side of the Bosphorus.  This meant that we took the ferry an average of twice a day during our five days there. This was entirely according to plan, as not only are they an inexperienced and quick way to get around (no traffic jams on the water), but they're just a fun and beautiful way to see the city.  One morning a big pod of dozens of dolphins swam and jumped past during our crossing. On our final day we even took one ferry southwest across to the European shore then immediately hopped on another one headed southeast instead of taking a bus or Dolmus straight south down the Asian shore.

As for new explorations, we made several fun new discoveries.  Some of these were things I can't believe I'd missed before (e.g. the Istanbul University campus and its dramatic fire-watchtower) and others were things that would be easy to miss but we'd caught just in time (e.g. a beautiful, if slightly rundown, neighbourhood sitting between the Grand Bazaar and the Golden Horn that was already partially demolished with the rest looking like it would be following soon.

We spent more time right down on the water in the pleasant new park along the Golden Horn and along the still traffic-clogged and view-less Bosphorus shore north of it.  

Food and drink wise, we had a few highlights. One day was devoted to visiting some of the small number of brewpubs in Istanbul.  For a city its size, it's a ways behind the curve. If my research was correct, Wellington has roughly one hundred times as many brewpubs per capita as Istanbul.  But to their credit, the ones they've got do a respectable, if not flashy, job, preparing fault-free IPAs using inexpensive (and thus not terribly exciting) hops, decent witbiers and notably good dry stouts.

On the brewery day we also had a fun time drinking coffees in the partial shadow of a giant sundial surrounded by kitties.

And we had some really good köfte (meatballs) with bean salad in an ancient-looking restaurant in the spice bazaar just above the Golden Horn.

A repeat visit may free you from the compulsion to visit some tourist attractions.  But especially in a place like Istanbul there are some places that just demand a repeat visit.  Foremost among these is Aya/Hagia Sophia. I've written before that it is my favourite building in the world and it remains the reigning champion.  Despite the crowds (which still can't come close to filling the magically spacious, 1500 year-old cathedral) it still held its magnificent sense of space.  This was also despite the scaffolding… In my four visits to Aya Sofia over a period of fifteen ears, there has only been one where there wasn't massive floor-to-ceiling scaffolding set up under some portion of the main dome.

Interestingly, the almost equally wonderful Sultanahmet Camii (Blue Mosque) that faces Aya Sofia across a large plaza was also under renovation, but of a much larger scale.  We popped in for a visit just after prayers and were surprised to discover that an artificial ceiling meant that almost none of its huge columns or beautiful tiles were visible.  It would have been disappointing if this had been our only chance to see it!)

Our final day in Istanbul was spent visiting a couple of friends, new and old.  The first was an Airbnb host who'd had to cancel our reservation a week or so previously after some "disagreements" with local officials.  He'd asked us to cancel the booking so it wouldn't show up on his listing, but assured us he'd meet us for coffee and pay us the Airbnb cancellation in person after we arrived.  This all smelt like a scam, but he'd been tremendously nice and helpful up to this point, and I couldn't see any way that it could be. And as it turned out he was completely on the up and up, just as friendly and helpful as ever and treated us to a coffee and a tea as well as paying us back (if you're looking for a medium term place to stay in Istanbul, let me know and I'll pass on his details!)

Our old friend was Sinem, who we'd stayed with during our last visit to Istanbul.  We'd just managed to make time to catch up on our final day, but we had a really fun time all the same. She and her cousin were going to get matching tattoos in Kadikoy and we headed down to meet them.  After the (short, simple) tattoo session was done we went out for a yummy lunch of burgers and spent a good couple of hours catching up on what we'd all been doing over the past seven years. After lunch we swung by a speciality bottle store and picked up a few Turkish craft beers to sip in a park overlooking the Bosphorus as the sun slowly made its way down towards the horizon.  We seem to get along really well with Sinem, and it was great to hear about recent events in her life, both happy and sad, to talk lots about travel (the tattoo she and her cousin got that day was a travel inspired one) and to talk about all of our plans for the future. Next time we're back in Turkey we will have to make sure we get to spend more time together (hopefully at her Boutique hotel in Imbros!)

Sinem and her cousin walked us back down through Kadikoy, which had gone from busy to positively thronging with life.  We had a bit of nervousness as we started to worry about whether we had left enough time to get to the airport (and whether we had enough Lira left over to pay for the trip).  But we had enough time for goodbye hugs, and were sent on our way with smiles, snacks that her cousin insisted on buying for us and, of course, one leftover beer from the bottle shop for the airport.

Daddy Cheese

When I first visited Turkey in 2004 Sabhia Gokcen (named after the world's first female combat pilot) airport was brand new.  It had few flights in and out and if you missed the bus that came to meet each one you were out of luck and had to take a taxi the 30km west to central Istanbul.  At the time I personally claimed it as the most inconvenient airport in the world. It would, no doubt, have surprised my former self that we were pleased to be flying into SG from Cyprus.  Partly because it's become much busier and transport has become correspondingly easier. And partly because we weren't actually heading west to central Istanbul, but going still further east to Eskisehir.

We took a regular old city bus to the high speed train station about 5km to the southwest.  The trains are inexpensive and popular so we actually had to wait a couple of hours for the next one with free seats, during which we went and had a yummy brunch of menemen in the busy seaside suburb of Pendik and were very warmly welcomed (back) to Turkey by lots of people, including the restaurant owners, both of whom had studied in Eskisehir. 

The train twiddled and twaddled around Istanbul but once we were around the big city got up to 250km/h.

Eskisehir is called "the miracle on the steppes," and "the Venice of Anatolia".  These are clearly fairly large exaggerations. But that doesn't mean that it isn't a very pleasant city.  It has one big river and a single canal that wend their way through two state Universities. It's got a pleasant, if not spectacular old town full of old Ottoman houses and cafes.  And it's got a glass blowing museum and workshop which, rather to our surprise, we really enjoyed. We actually say there and watched while the two guys working there made a beautiful bowl over about ninety minutes.

As with Trabzon on our last trip to Turkey and Afyonkarahisar on the one before that, Eskisehir was just a typical small Turkish city without any particularly remarkable attractions, but that provided a pleasant and relaxing setting to see a bit of daily life.

We left Eskisehir on the high speed train again.  One downside to such quick modes of transportation is that stops can be very quick, even if they're fairly far apart.  So somehow we managed to get off one stop early. We'd already planned a day of Dolmus hopping, so this just added one more hop to the day.

Osmaneli and Iznik are a small and a medium-sized town in the heart of old Ottoman Turkey.  In Osmaneli, we hopped off the dolmus, and took a nice walk through the sixteenth and seventeenth century houses and silk factories (they actually bred silkworms).  Before leaving we sat and had a çay (tea) in Osmaneli and met a very well travelled gentleman who had been a merchant mariner in his younger days, travelling everywhere from London to Indonesia and back before returning home to settle down in his old home.

Iznik, meanwhile, is bigger and receives many more tourists than Osmaneli.  Turks are interested in the place as it was an important early Ottoman imperial fort and also where the finest examples of imperial ceramic work came from.  This includes the thousands and thousands of tiles that decorate Sultanahmet Camii (the Blue Mosque) and the other Imperial mosques in Istanbul.

Christians are interested in the place because in Byzantine days it was known as Nicea and hosted two major church councils at one of which the Nicene Creed was agreed upon.  As this happened a loooong time ago, even before the great Schism that separated the Catholic and Orthodox churches, pretty much every Christian in the world can trace their church doctrine back to Iznik (and in particular, to the Church of Saint Sophia [Aya Sofia] which, after spending decades as a museum, was returned to use as a functioning mosque recently, much to the consternation of some Christians).

There are a bunch of other interesting historical relics.  The city walls, which were constructed, patched and rebuilt by everyone from the Romans to the Byzantines to the Seljuks to the Ottomans.  And the green mosque, decorated with the city's namesake tiles.

But most importantly, there was Daddy Cheese.  Baba Peynirci (which is the literal translation) is a chain of deli type shops that we first discovered in Iznik.  We bought olives, walnut-fudge-halvah stuff, mixed pickled veggies. And of course, cheese. We were well aware that Turkey's beyaz peynir ("white cheese," somewhat reminiscent of feta) was good.  But we hadn't quite realized that Turkey produces loads of other good cheeses too, ranging from kurut (the rock hard, salty-sour dried yoghurt stuff popular in central Asia), others that resembled smoked mozzarella and gruyere, and perhaps most unusual, a sort of stringy cheese-floss made from a cheese with plenty of blue mould and blue cheese flavour.  We did a lot of picnic shopping at Cheese Daddies over our remaining week or so in Turkey.

Our penultimate destination in Turkey was (another!) major historical centre of the early Ottomans.  The area around the Sea of Marmara is just packed with them. But Bursa is arguably the grandest.

Bursa reminded me a bit of Kyoto.  In that it's a former capital (it was the first actual city conquered by the Ottomans, and their first real capital) that is a large modern city, but is dotted and dabbed with fabulous historical monuments throughout.  It seemed like everywhere you went there was a pretty old mosque (even moreso than in Istanbul, which is saying something).

And then there are the first Ottoman imperial mosques, of which Ulu Camii (the Great Mosque) and Yeşil Camii (the Green Mosque) are merely the two most impressive.  There is a big covered bazaar, not quite as flashy as Istanbul's, but unlike in IST's Grand Bazaar, it's virtually all dedicated to local commerce. We didn't have a single person offer to sell us a carpet in Bursa.  In amongst the bazaar are lovely little caravanserais (Hans as they are called in Turkey), many of which are now very pleasant (and surprisingly reasonably priced) tea gardens, all abustle with shoppers taking a break.

And as if all of these weren't enough, even though the original Ottoman sultans moved their capital onwards in just a few generation, it continued to hold great significance to them, such that the first six sultans and a miscellany of their wives, sons, daughters, aunts and uncles were buried there.  The beautiful blue tomb and the huge tomb complex in the north of the city show off some of the best tilework and painting of the era.

Meanwhile, up above Bursa is Uludag, a 2000m+ peak with ski lifts up top.  We climbed up the slopes a fair way along a street that probably gives Dunedin's Baldwin street a serious run for it's money, and once in the high, surprisingly isolated little suburbs we sat and listened to the dozens of echoing, swirling calls to prayer.  As I've commented before in this blog, I quite like the Turkish version of the call to prayer. Turkey is one of the relatively few places where it's almost always done live by a real muezzin instead of a recording. But I must say that since our last visit, the trend in muezzin styles seems to have taken steps beyond embellished and impassioned into the range of just over-doing it.  Now it seems like every word must be sung with at least four or five different notes, to the point that many practitioners sound like they're trying to emulate Mariah Carey!

We thoroughly enjoyed all of this, but perhaps the very best part of Bursa waited til our final day. We changed accommodation, moving out to a (for us at least) splendidly fancy boutique hotel in the suburb of Cekirge.  

It's no secret that the Turks love their public baths, and Bursa has historically had some of the grandest, as it's gone to a series of natural hot springs.  Sarah and I each picked out one ancient Hamam to visit on our final evening. I went to the Yeni Kaplice (the "New" bath, a name which, as we're in Turkey, was entirely relative, as the place dated from 1555), while Sarah went to the Keçeli Hamam which, while having been renovated more recently, was almost a full century older than mine.

I was expecting such a venerable institution to be a major tourist attraction, but it seemed like I was the only non-local (definitely the only non-Turk) there.  I had a lovely long soak in the main pool, which was large enough and deep enough to swim in. I sat beneath a marble lion's head that poured 45°C water out of its mouth over my head and back (though even at this temperature it was still mixed waaaay down, as the spring that feeds the Hamam comes out of the ground at 84°C).  I had a nice conversation in very broken German with a Turkish man who informed me that Erdogan, Trump and Putin are all Schweins. And when it came time to leave, I was fetched a cup of tea, fresh towels (yes, towels… one for the body, one for my long hair) and patted dry by the very friendly and helpful attendant out in the grandiose dark wood lobby of the place.

Walking home on a cold November night after a hot, steamy bath is a wonderful sensation.  I'm not sure if Sarah had quite as much fun as I did, but it was a great way to finish off our visit to Bursa and prepare for our relaxed return to one of my favourite cities in the world, Istanbul.