Articles from April 2019

Despite a late start (9:15 a.m.) calves were complaining on most of us from the efforts of the day before. Another sunny dry day awaited. After an improved breakfast (fruit appeared for the yoghurt! Life is simple here ? ) we mounted our bikes just behind the hotel and set off for a short ride on what was billed as an undulating route. Bear in mind this comes from a former Jordanian national team cyclist…. Yes, it did go up and down, but not in that nice pattern you imagine from this description, gaining enough speed on the downhill to get up most of the uphill….. Nope. Hills much too long for that, and the one through the Bedouin-displaced town made me twitch at the thought of going up it on the way home. The grates there are wider than a bike tire so definitely to be avoided…. However the part near Little Petra was just perfect and we rode up to the parking lot after some very satisfying roller coaster humps during the last couple of km.

Little Petra was a trading post for Petra and interesting for intricate painted roof and water management. Also in a canyon, but much smaller than Petra. Only two of us took the bait for “the best view in the world” and climbed a set of steps involving a little (protected) scrambling to find some mildly interesting rocks but certainly nothing spectacular. We just couldn’t help ourselves when we saw steps going up…..

After a quick snack we headed back along the same route and after the first pleasant section it became real work, with the village hill a real bear with a grade of 14%, objective dangers such as donkeys, cars, grates adding to the fun. Only a few of us managed to get up without feet touching the ground – happily my gears were fixed and working better finally so though it might have been quicker to walk, I wasn’t going to give up and touch ground….. Wow that was a steep hill though and several gave up and hopped on the bus.

After docking the bikes we headed through town into the crazy traffic, picked up a picnic lunch and had a spectacular view from the top of Wadi Musa, the town next to Petra site. We overlooked the Siq, could pick out the Treasury and other things on site. The bus parking lot near the entrance was phenomenal, tour bus after tour bus parked. Apparently there are no rooms in any of the hotels in Petra at the moment. One of our group missed a step on the way back to the bus and got an impressively deep albeit small gash just under the knee. Not a great site for a cyclist which requires continually bending knees so with the possibility of it reopening she went to the local hospital to get it stitched up – and was back in 1 1/2 hours! That included a mandatory report to the Tourist Police, who were apparently lovely and acceded to a picture at the end of it all, making sure that their hat was on for the photo shoot… :-). We had a free afternoon and most of us elected to try the Turkish bath experience which turned out to be a steamy room with giant swirling hot tub, an oppressively hot steam sauna and then a massage. All interesting and quite relaxing- or would have been had I not had an email from Royal Jordanian Airlines just before I went down telling me that they’d moved my flight Amman to Cairo from 11;30 at night Saturday to 4 a.m. on Sunday – I’m supposed to be joining the Egypt tour on Sunday a.m. Apparently they’re famous for being late, but that takes the cake.

So, try and phone long distance in a foreign country without a local mobile phone…… no chat option online, the email tells me they’ll reply within 5 business days…. couldn’t get hold of our guide until dinner at 7 p.m., (after office hours for Royal Jordanian) to use his mobile phone. So, alternatives? Online found an Egyptair flight leaving at 9:30 p.m. and that was within possibility for return time to Amman for this tour, so tried to book it. Four tries later, the website finally completes the transaction, then my credit card is rejected. I KNOW what’s going to happen, they’ll send a verification request to my mobile number at home as I’m outside of my country of origin – which I can’t get as I’m not connected here. I had this conversation with VISA prior to leaving and they assured me that their system was so smart it would know I was in the Middle East, and no, they no longer take travel information so there was nothing I could do prophylactically…. I’d just have to call them collect if I had a problem.

How do you call collect without a land line? Excellent question, you cannot and the front desk at the hotel couldn’t do it either. So I had to log into the local Orange Network, reply to the verification and another two tries later I had my seat on the 9:30 pm flight. No stress at all. Bear in mind this airline is the one that moved my Aswan – Cairo flight without notifying me leaving me scrambling just before I left to add an overnight in Cairo…. not to mention that this flight is about double the cost of the RJ one without factoring in what Telus will ding me for connecting overseas….. and tomorrow I have to tackle getting a refund from RJ. Someone in our group worked in the travel industry before retiring and tells me that the contract with the airline just confirms that they will move me from “a” to “b” without any binding contract at which time, and even which day…. yikes, passengers seem to have no rights. We will see what comes about tomorrow, but clearly 4 a.m. was not an option whatever.

Dinner was excellent at a local restaurant with an hilarious game of musical chairs as we realigned to tables subscribing to the “special” and the “non-special” table. A good local dish for once, although back to “no protein needed for vegetarian” and though it looked like ratatouille it had a lovely combination of spices and wasn’t overwhelming quantities. And so back to the hotel to pack up for a move tomorrow to Aqaba and our longest ride (which keeps fluctuating between 50-60 km, and a “long hard hill” is promised – given that today’s didn’t garner a rating from the cycling guide I’m afraid to ponder what tomorrow brings).

The number of people going to “Petra at night” (light show on the Treasury and Bedouin singing) dropped from 17 (everyone but me) at the start, to 2 today……

Memories from today: The surprised looks in the Bedouin village as 14 cyclists contort themselves up the hill on their Main Street; the view at our picnic lunch stop; the stress of yet another travel arrangement going awry

Finally figured out how to get the room cool, as the ac clearly isn’t on, or doesn’t work. Nor does the TV but that I don’t care about; heard about the Notre Dame fire through my medical insurance/rescue company who sends an email about major international events…. I’m glad I’m not here during real hot weather…..Call to prayers at 4:30 a.m., but I’d managed to eke out another half hour in my sleep so awake only slightly before.

The usual hotel buffet breakfast is followed by a gathering in the lobby to leave – there are identified habitual latecomers now… We walked to the entrance of Petra, guarded by police, and went through a security check before heading down a dusty path with lots of other tour groups (gates open at 6 a.m., we are starting about 8:30). Several info stops later we are the the Siq, the entrance to the canyon which is decorated with period dressed Roman style soldiers. We shuffle along the Siq exchanging picture ops with other groups and getting good info from our guide. At one particular prime stop (the first view of the Treasury through a slit in the canyon) someone appeared to be taking a panorama, then a video, then ? – thought he’d never move on. Through all the crowds there are trotting donkeys which you need to get out of the way of or risk your trip ending suddenly, and donkey pulled carriages which are even more lethal (the latter looked quite uncomfortable bumping along the uneven parts of the Roman Road).

But the Treasury was stunning. Obligatory picture(s) done, including a group photo, history lesson completed we moved on from the camels and donkeys lined up to take you further on, and into the main area of Petra. It was as we learned immense, with the Treasury being the best known and perhaps best preserved but by no means the biggest or only facade. Caves punctuated the area, a sophisticated watering and water collection system, and lconsiderable investment in tombs, with that real estate being by far the most elaborate. Ingenious use of the rather inhospitable albeit beautiful coloured rocky countryside.

Throughout all of this magnifence is spread souvenirs stalls, Bedouin managed; as agreement for being moved out of the historic site where they were still living in caves, a village was built at the far end to house them and free passage, no tax in the site decreed. As the Nabeatans were traders, probably not different from the situation in the real city though I suspect there wouldn’t be stalls on the paths to the tombs, nor juice stations at the site of the best photo op overlooking the Treasury.

Suffice it say we walked, and looked, and took pictures, and walked and looked, and took pictures….. We had pre-ordered lunch boxes of falafel, yogurt, cheese (bologna type meat for the non-vegetarians which was fed to the mewing cats) and then set off on our own. I partnered with another solo traveler from upstate New York, a lovely girl studying in London and we climbed the 800 steps to the Monastery, (the biggest edifice in the site),passing the rest of our group on the way down – a well travelled route with donkeys going up and down as well. After a long water stop to wait for the rest of the group we eventually gave up and headed out for the Treasury overlook view which was billed as “hard” as well but half as difficult as the Monastery. The steps there were steeper, beautifully carved out in the triple coloured rock of the region, but it seemed much harder than billed… and including one of those annoyances in hiking, a loss of altitude once over the top to gain the destination. The viewpoint was occupied by a “cafe” which consisted of a fruit press (see pics) that looked like a torture instrument from the Middle Ages but was very effective, and carpets and cushions laid out in an open tent on a ledge at the best photo op overlooking the Treasury. Rasta music was playing in the background, and various young things were sitting on the edge of the ledge dangling their legs over the abyss getting their picture taken with the Treasury in the background. Quite an eclectic spot and have to admit the freshly squeezed pomegranate juice was excellent.

Having decided our lives would still be complete without hiking the 400 stairs to the high sacrificial point which we could see across the valley (similar hiking time) Natalie and I headed down (rather up, annoyingly, first) and encountered much of the rest of our group wondering how much further it was and was it worth the effort? We reassured them it was and all agreed it was a more difficult hike than the Monastery – in truth I counted the steps on the way down and although some of them were discretionary, with a conservative count I got to 541 by the time we were at the bottom. We headed out to the Siq, more distance away than we’d remembered, then found the trip back through the Siq was both longer and more definitely uphill than we’d remembered……. the dusty road seemed fairly endless – though happily in this section there was a divided horse lane so one didn’t have to dodge the chariots and galloping donkeys. Natalie was pretty much toast by now though kept up a good pace as she wanted to get back to the hotel to rest before dinner….. We parted ways at the gate as I wanted to look at the “cave bar” advertised as being in a Nabatean cave. I pictured a cool sit down with a beer, but found an open cave with a bar blaring music and it was quite stuffy with a nauseating perfumed smell so high-tailed it home for an awesome soak in the tub to rejuvenate my aching legs and feet. Fortunately it was perfect weather- threatening clouds at a couple of points making me wonder how unpleasant the steps down (some on inclined rock only) would be in the wet with all the masses…. but it didn’t rain and never got too hot though we mostly had lovely blue skies.

Stunning site, with too much to see in one day, and if ever I return ( with control of timing by myself) I’d get up earlier and go in earlier to get ahead of the crowds. Lineups at WC’s also slowed us down (women’s WC of course – the men sail through).

Dinner a la carte (TG, I am getting buffet PTSD) and then back to bed. A very discourteous tour group has moved into our wing (ours is spread out throughout the hotel) and at 10 p.m. last night when they had their second group meeting (apparently) outside my door at top volume I stuck my head out the door and asked them to move on – due to the volume it took ages to get someone’s attention. They sound Italian and the first looked at me blankly but when I came out of my room in my nightie and tapped on their shoulder someone in their group with an English accent apologized and the noise moved down the corridor. Really, people, have your meetings in the lobby or the restaurant…. the person in the room across seems to have trouble shutting his door so it bangs several times at full impact before he manages to get on top of it. And the cacophony resumed at 6 a.m. today, full volume voices with absolutely no consideration for anyone else. Bloody tourists…

Memories of the day: steps…. braying donkeys….. “Buy lovely gift for only one dinar (Jordanian dollar)”, incredible archeology.

Minimal sleep last night ? -I guess the silver lining is that everybody was complaining about the loud call to prayer at 5 AM whereas I was already awake. ?After breakfast at the hotel and loading the bus we wandered through Madabbah to see some famous mosaic Tiles. We noted that our guide is very good at distilling the essence of the information and were able to skip In and out expeditiously Before the crowds got crazy. Very touristy town selling Arab Barbie dolls but we all noted that they had blue eyes and fair skin.

Then it was onto our bikes to climb a little up to Mount Nebo where we had a Look around- this is a Francescan Monastery dedicated to Moses. Back on the bikes and a lovely fly down from the Heights to the Dead Sea level, then an undulating pedal along the shores of the Dead Sea to our final destination. Again little up hill to hinder our fun today ?? No disasters either despite the steepness and we all went at our comfort speeds -though in the back of my mind I kept wondering at what speed Etienne would be doing this ….

We had buffet lunch at a beach resort on the Dead Sea looking across a lovely clean swimming pool towards Israel ( West Bank). After lunch we scrambled into Our swimming gear and hiked down to the beach Which is receding yearly. Most weird. Thankfully I had the advice to wear sandals into the water which was very useful as the shore consisted of crusted solid salt About 3 inches thick. It is a weird feeling being suspended and 33% salinity and not having to work to stay upright. The downside is that every little cut you might have feels like salt in the wound, literally. So the girl in our group with the acne came out with a stinging red face that was really uncomfortable and I have to say I was glad to rinse in the top pool as my bruised nether regions from the bike in the morning were definitely noticeable. A unique experience for sure.

Raining in earnest when we came out from dinner with Streams running down the street. This hotel actually turns out to be the best so far despite warnings from our tour guide and the poor Reviews online. Perhaps my standards have just readjusted-just happy that the toilet doesn’t rock, there’s no bad drain smells, The hairdryer works and amazingly, the sink stopper actually works. The AC doesn’t but there’s a window and it’s cool outside with predictions for a high of 16 to 18 C tomorrow so no worries. Cycling today was perfect temperature even down in the warm Dead Sea pocket where it was predicted To be 27 to 28C. It should be pleasant walking tomorrow.

Faded glory hotel produced a line of insects in the bathroom in the a.m. so hastily packed up and went for early breakfast. All the washing including jeans from yesterday dried overnight.

8 a.m. trip meeting. well Okay, 8:15 we are introduced to our tour guide Ibrahim and the other 17 members of the tour. One Yank studying in London, 5 Aussies and the rest are Brits, with a predominance of teachers in the occupation dept. Varying ages between grey hair to uni age. Our medical insurance details are taken (hmm) and we load a large tour bus to head out to Jerash, a Roman ruin near the Syrian border. Yes, it’s safe. We stop to take a picture of the sign towards Syria and wind our way up the hills towards Jerash. Weather is supposed to be 22C up there and 27-28C in the valley where we were cycling but I’d say it was reversed – it was quite hot in Jerash and I was wishing I’d brought my hat. But an incredible site, found buried by earthquakes and very well preserved – an entire walled city, some still not unearthed. Greek like in places and the amphitheatre and Senate were astounding. As Morag predicted, there was an Arab duo playing bagpipes and drums in the amphitheatre though not “Scotland the Brave”, clearly they have a varied repertoire. Quite incongruous though – apparently a Scottish regiment was posted there at one time and the bagpipes were taken up?

After a couple of hours of wandering around and getting an idea of the history and perhaps what it looked like at its peak (with multitudes of other tourists – the parking lot was just jammed with similar sized tour buses as ours) we sallied forth. We wiggled onto the main road to pick up fresh fruit from a stall, and our hot lunches – ginormous – which we tackled while the bus drove to our rendezvous with the bikes. On some random hill in the back country there were parked 20 or so bikes and our bike company – the leader in full biking kit, cleats, and sporting a Pinarello. Bikes had been selected by our provided heights, but the frame I was presented with was waaayy too small. Happily there was a larger spare which quickly got stripped of its saddle and frantic adjustments were being done all over the area – eventually we set off down a steep hill (not sure that was a good choice for folk getting accustomed to their bikes?) and then onto some fairly potholed side streets – little uphill, mostly down or rolling and through small villages. Traffic was pretty tolerant on the whole as the roads were narrow and it was hard to pass – reception in the villages was mixed with lots of “hallo” from the kids but one teenager lobbed rocks at the cyclists passing from a terrace (hitting my bike, happily not in the spokes but by the group behind us he had apparently graduated to bricks – one of the older riders got off his bike and chased him but unfortunately didn’t catch up to him). I’m pretty sure I got called a “tomato” by someone else I went by, not untruthfully as I was sporting red and orange clothes. Although this tour group does almost weekly tours, we garnered a lot of interest in general as we rode by. The mechanical support and bus followed at the rear, and there are of course the fast group, the middle (mine) and the rear peletons, but generally we stayed in visual contact and stopped and waited several times for all to get together.

Anyway most folk seemed quite friendly and the roads became progressively less potholed as we worked our way down and around (and yes up!) the hills. Olive groves, some vineyards and lots of forest, goat herds, some sheep – mostly farming country and pretty green. One hill proved a real challenge with at least half getting off their bikes and hoofing it – happy to say I puffed my way to the top using the sidewinder technique :-). Then a lovely downhill towards the Dead Sea and the Jordan River Valley on new pavement – not steep so you could just “let ‘er rip”. At the bottom at the intersection of two roads the light refused to change so a passing police car put on its lights and sat at the intersection so we could turn left. A few km later the bike trailer passed us and we stopped to pass over our bikes – 38 km, mostly downhill, in a very pleasant temperature and pace.

After a WC stop at a gas station (expecting horrors but it was very clean) the bus headed out to Maddaba, past Mt. Nebo which we will visit tomorrow. There is intense agriculture under plastic greenhouses (which come off in the summer) in the Jordan Valley with everything imaginable underneath, and acres of very healthy looking date trees (which are incidentally delicious…). Water is a big problem in Jordan and each area gets water 2d per week which they store in rooftop tanks – they pay an escalating price depending on use much like BC’s two tier electricity prices. 71% of Jordan is desert and the Jordan River and the Dead Sea are dropping levels yearly, due to both overuse and climate change. Millions of Syrian refugees have crossed the border, and are still schooled and medical care provided in certain areas by the UN. Although the border in the north has re-opened recently, only 40 are allowed through a day – officially. The impact on water has been significant as the population burgeons.

A long climb up a winding road past Mt. Nebo took us to our hotel, where we thankfully showered, did the daily hand washing and tested the ac (this one works!). Today’s hotel room oddity is the toilet which rocks on its foundations and crashes whenever you sit on it……We walked en masse to dinner at a restaurant close by with lovely mezze to start then a meh main course. They served both local craft beer and wine as 30% of this town is Christian so alcohol is not frowned upon – the wine was touted as good but I elected to pass after a sip and saved considerable dinar as it was extremely pricey ($9 + for a beer and $12 for a glass of wine). Very loud at dinner with everyone talking but interesting to get to know some of the people around. Two other singles apart from myself and almost everyone else has done an Exodus tour before, many having done cycling tours.

Tomorrow apparently we are cycling DOWN the long hill we drove up today – Dead Sea swim on the menu as well in the middle.

Memories of the day: Unexpectedly large and impressive ruins at Jerash; wheeee – going downhill on bikes; garbage everywhere.

Bon nuit.

In which it takes an entire day to fly to Amman, less than two hours away by plane.

Rain showers again in Istanbul as I left for the trek to the airport.  Booked driver arrived just slightly late and dropped an hour later at the departures area joined the first long line for first stage security, all bags and people scanned before entry to airport proper. Surprisingly not much apparent deterrent to driving a car bomb to the front glassed entrances…. Again, some interesting line up cutting was going on and some people had cases upon cases stacked on trollies…. Once through, it was a (fast paced) 10 min walk to the identified check in counter – then another two security checks before getting into the areas with the departure gates.  Yet despite all this very few bags were checked as happens in North America and I don’t get the sense that it’s as thorough…?
Masses of people milling around the cavernous, echoing halls – a Chinese group sleeping flat out in one corner, and several others like me looking for a lounge (none of us accepted, the only functioning lounge is the Turkish Airways and business class Star Alliance).  Apparently the others are not finished yet….Few restaurants/food places open, all with long lines and ridiculous prices.  Another two km hike to the departure gate (not exaggerating ) and the flight of course departs late and then spends 20” taxiing out to the airstrip.  It must be costing the airlines a fortune in fuel for this stupidity. 

The construction is still madly underway at the Istanbul new airport, and it was bizarre to see the roads being laid – literally nothing 10 yards ahead of the paving, methinks it won’t last long without proper underpinning…
Royal Jordanian planes are old…. I was in the exit row mid plane and there was such a draft and noise from the exit door over the wing on takeoff I was prepared for it to pop off at any point….. my charming seat partner used his phone on takeoff and landing, but had to get up three times for me (okay I did a couple of those on purpose) as he had the aisle seat.    But amazingly they served lunch on a two hour flight, and even produced a vegetarian sandwich for me.  Tricky balancing the tea and lunch box on the tray which slanted alarmingly (worn out like most of the rest of the plane).  It was a bumpy landing and it felt like the wheels hit the ground right under our seats (probably a feeling shared by much of the plane) – looking forward to the next RJ flight to Cairo.

Queen Alia Airport in Amman is a nice, airy and light 5 years old airport . It separates passport control lines into “VIP’s and investors”, Jordanians and non-Jordanians, with or without visas…. the tour greeter was there as promised and when I eventually got to the wicket (2 agents for a long lineup) he certified that I was joining a tour (any group with a local travel agent spending at least a night in Jordan get visa fees waived).  He drove like a maniac into Amman, a city built originally on 7 hills and now occupying 12 hills with a population of 5 million.  All the way in I was thinking about the statistics for tourist deaths being mostly caused by traffic accidents…… The hotel, now in a residential neighbourhood, definitely belongs to the “faded glory” category and badly needs updating/refreshing/cleaning.  Bags went through security yet again on the way in….However its a place to rest one’s head and the notice in the lobby says there’s a meeting at 8 tomorrow a.m. so will meet the rest of the group then and we move on for our first day of cycling through farmlands…tried to locate friend Julie’s archeology dig on the way in but wasn’t sure which of the many hills it was on! And the driver assured me there were too many in the way to see it anyway from our highway….I guess you need to know where to look?

Memories of the day:  walking miles in the airport, lineups, taking all day to travel 2 hours by plane.  Sigh.  But an interesting variety of clothing from full burqa to Saudi Arabian garb to Bedouin style headgear at passport control in Amman.

In which Karen discovers a new meaning to Turkish delight….

Another wonderful hotel breakfast to fuel the day’s walking tour and a brighter prospect for the weather – sunglasses actually needed. We headed out to the Grand Bazaar which was quiet to begin with and rapidly grew crowded. Seemingly acres of wares for sale, much local art and art from other regions of Turkey. Lovely designs, with much coming from Uzbekistan apparently where labour is cheaper and of course the ubiquitous copies of brand name purses etc.

Having sated the eyes and avoided (most of) the sellers, we proceeded on to Suleymaniye Mosque, by far the prettiest to date. Then a walk through another local bazaar and skirting the spice market we rode the metro then hopped a ferry to Asian Istanbul. We entered a modern part of the city then immediately into another local market with fresh fish, fruit, confectionary (amazing Turkish delight & chocolate with fantastic wrapping for special occasions… and marzipan shapes… and fabulous baklava and almond cookies …. and and….). Eventually we settled down to lunch at a restaurant (Ciya) which has apparently been on ‘Chef’s Table” on Netflix – the owner has been gathering recipes from remote Turkish villages which have been handed down orally through the generations that were illiterate. Much was vegetarian, and one of the best meals I’ve had for a long time with new plants, tastes (spicy Kurdish goat cheese), and combinations abounding.

Back to European Istanbul on another ferry then onto a funicular to the top of the hill wherein lies Taksim Square sporting a statue of independence (1923) and the start of the “trendy” area (Beyoglu). Taksim Square has been the scene of many demonstrations, some bloody, but they are quickly shut down now and armoured police vehicles and many uniforms of various sorts are a visible deterrent. Police are to be found stationed outside embassies, schools, and armoured vehicles also were stationed at Sultanahmet Square, site of the 2016 bombing. Instead of demonstrations, shoppers were out in force as were street musicians, and we were lucky enough to get a seat on the trolley down the pedestrian only street for a good view in comfort.

A steep descent down a hill brought us to a spontaneous concert from a group of retirees at the foot of the Commodore steps (built by a Jewish family to help their children ascend to school) and into the spice market which was a marvel of colour and smells, and both local and tourist commerce. A taxi home got us back to the hotel just as the rain began and I bid adieu to my lovely guide Safiye. Although the rain didn’t get heavy, it was very windy most of the day and I did a Mary Poppins imitation on the waterside walk after tea, chasing my umbrella down the path when the wind whisked it out of my hand attempting to close it. I had a fair jog to catch up with it before it was eventually captured by a passing English tourist. Always glad to provide entertainment to those around! The lovely thing about traveling is that you will never see these people again, so no matter what kind of an idiot you make of yourself! Very freeing.

And thus ends my taste of Istanbul, literally and metaphorically – alas too short so a return visit to Turkey will definitely be on the books!

Memories of the day – Turkish Delight! Spices! Handicrafts! Galore. Crowds of people trying to get through small corridors, intermittently blocked by vendors. Friendly people with a sense of humor.

An amazing breakfast at the hotel – in which an entire shelf from the beehive provided beautiful honey at one station (according to the staff member, the Turkish bees are doing well and ‘working very hard”) was retrospectively needed to fuel the walking in today’s tour. We started at the Blue Mosque (large dome under reconstruction so a bit disappointing) and learned of the modern adaptation for removing shoes. Instead of leaving shows for chaotic reclamation outside, plastic bags are provided and you just carry them around with you; very pragmatic to deal with the huge numbers of tourists. Although my lovely guide Safiye said it was relatively moderately quiet with respect to tourist numbers, by the time we left our next destination (Topaki Palace) there were huge crowds both of local screaming schoolchildren and the flag waving commercial guided version milling around. Happily with a guide we were able to proceed to the front of the lineups, and either tickets were bought in advance or from “street vendors” in front of the sites; we were able to save significant time queuing.

Safiye is very knowledgeable and able to also give a glimpse into modern Turkish life. It was definitely a boon to know which direction to go to in the large sites like Topaki – especially after the school groups appeared on scene. The next site, the underground Cisterns, would be a teacher’s nightmare – try keeping 20 excited schoolchildren together in the dark, and even coming out with the same number is a feat. Like everyone I’ve ever talked to who visited Turkey, the extent of the Ottoman Empire is astonishing to learn about, and I was interested to also learn that our Damascus furniture is Turkish in origin, as is baklava.

The weather was grey to begin with, developing into showers then monsoon rain which we encountered after lunch. We visited an old established dessert store for Turkish coffee and baklava to hide from the rain (and oh, the Turkish delight….) then headed out to see a bit of modern Istanbul and the old walls of Constantinople in growing warmth, humidity and eventual sunshine. A taxi ride back to the hotel in more crazy traffic (astonishingly we did get there though it looked impossible at times with no-one moving) ended day 1 with a total of 15 km recorded on the guide’s app. After a quick cup of tea I headed out to walk around the local bazaar and the main square at the top of the hill resplendent with yellow tulips (a flower apparently native to Turkey, and imported to Holland). A roof view from the hotel’s top floor at sunset ompleted the day and here’s hoping the sleep is better tonight! The Istanbul stop was added to counter jet lag so that when I took to the bike in Jordan I wouldn’t be quite so stupid. A wise idea, it appears….

Memories of the day – group upon group of schoolchildren, voices bouncing off the walls of the Cistern caverns – Call to prayer from competing minarets – piles of spices in the touristic shops, a prelude of the spice market; mosaic tile patterns in blue; the rain!!!

It was a long, long way here. Despite lie flat pod and good earplugs, little sleep was to be had on the London-Frankfurt leg due to the elderly couple a few rows down who were clearly insomniacs and talked all night – at a volume compatible with their elderly hearing capabilities. A shower at the lounge in Frankfurt during the layover helped temporarily, but things went downhill from there and although I tried my best not to sleep during the next leg to assist with jet lag, I was pretty stupid by the time I arrived in Istanbul. The new airport, which opened 2 days before, lives up to its billing as being miles out of the city with no public transport – and holds the record for the longest taxiing in from the landing strip I’ve ever had. The passport control/visa lineup was interesting with a burqa clad group cutting the foreigners lineup by ducking under the tapes – the rest of us shuffled through the enormous lineup and had our photos taken before being released into the baggage claim area. This area was a good km away (it seemed) and is cavernous – of course our luggage was sent to carousel 23A (out of a possible 25), guaranteeing an excellent dispersion of any emboli that had amassed during the 17 hours of flying, and nearly 24 h of mostly sitting.

At the arrivals hall there was a mass of people and signs with names on them but none with mine- I had arranaged a transfer with Mozio, a German company but was half expecting it to go awry as the plane had also left Frankfurt late, and we added a good 20 mins taxi-ing in. However someone called my name (how did they know who I was?) and I was connected with a greeter so we schlepped over to the chaotic pickup area and made our way around a labyrinth of brand new highways. After many km through industrial areas we integrated into the normal awful traffic jams for which Istanbul is famous.

The hotel in the historical sector is lovely, with marble everywhere, very clean, with super helpful staff and a comfortable bed on which I made myself horizontal as soon as it was humanly possible…..

Memories of the day – great, friendly service by Lufthansa staff, having to step over my asthetic and elderly Iranian fellow passenger’s pod enroute to the loo – he barely ate and went straight to sleep soon after boarding – leaning on the TV monitor for support, finding it slid sideways and nearly falling on top of him…. and the endless new airport.

On serendipitously discovering a few days ago that Egyptair had cancelled my months-ago-booked flight from Aswan to Cairo, and rebooked me on a flight that had no hope of connecting with my ongoing flight to London and hence to YVR (with no notification), I thought it behoved me to confirm airport pickup with my hotel in Istanbul. Thereupon I learned that despite my call to Lufthansa air a few weeks ago who confirmed the airport wouldn’t change until the end of April (there is a new international airport built there somewhat along the lines of the Montreal International – miles out of town, billed online as a “100 min” taxi ride from central Istanbul), the change happened this past weekend. Lufthansa didn’t bother to let their passengers know, apparently, and my boarding pass still reads arrival at “ATATURK”, the old airport. An amazing call with a Lufthansa agent who was completely uninterested in clarifying, rude, and didn’t seem to grasp the problem (a slight difference for pickup details….) ended in him hanging up on me – note that I never lost my temper albeit very tempted to during the whole useless conversation. I eventually found an announcement on an article online about the airport transfer – not on the airline’s website – a sentence alerting folk at the top of the flight status confirmation would surely have been easy as would have been changing info on the boarding pass… Not a good start to a long haul flight, my first experience with Lufthansa definitely not a positive one. Let’s hope the pilots know where they’re going though with recent events that’s not ensured either apparently…..

The fares to the new airport are at least three times the old fares due to the distance (and of course I arrive at rush hour). Sounds like it will take the same time from Frankfurt to Istanbul as from the airport to downtown… 🙁

And so we start. With all our computer tools shouldn’t it be easier to fly than it used to be? Seems more chaotic, and add all the layers of “security” clearance to go through – beam me up, Scotty.

7 days to go, and so much to do…..

At least all the vaccines have been imbibed now, the rough packing has been done (there is room for souvenirs in the voluminous bike case that I’m taking) and now just need to plough through all the remaining things left to do – Why is that they seem to multiply like amoebae at this juncture?

We will get there!