Today
I had breakfast at Anzac Cove. To be sure I was sitting on the top deck of Sea
Princess and about three miles off shore. We were just drifting off this
hallowed place. This was a privilege given to us because of the number of
Australian and New Zealand passengers.
At
8am there was an ANZAC Service conducted by the Captain on the open Deck 12,
and it looked as if most of the passengers attended. At least most the
Australian and New Zealand passengers. There were readings and special prayers
for the departed and the bereaved, and for peace in the world.
One
of the passengers sang Eric Bogle’s moving “And The Band Played Waltzing
Matilda” about the Aussie soldier who lost both legs, and asked himself ‘What
are they marching for?’ on ANZAC Day.
The
Captain lead us solemnly in “The Lord’s Prayer”, with prayers of thanksgiving for all the
sailors, soldiers, airmen and nursing sisters of Australia and New Zealand who,
on the first ANZAC day and throughout the Great War 1914-18, conferred a glory
on Australia and New Zealand ‘that will never fade’.
There was a
symbolic laying of the Wreath’. Symbolic
because the Turkish government had refused permission to put the wreath
overboard in the traditional way. Why refused?
One of those political mysteries.
We also ‘averred
the lofty ideals of service of the ANZACs in the 1939 to 1945 war. We ‘gave our
assurance that those who have fallen shall be held in sacred memory’.
Captain
William Kent read the solemn Ode: “.
. . . At
the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.” After the Last Post and two minutes silence
the New Zealand and Australian National Anthems were sung. The Sea Princess
Passengers’ Choir sang from their hot and lofty perch, just below the large TV
screen (which was off), and the Captain prayed the Blessing, asking that all
the “ same courage and resolution, the same comradeship and service – may now
be offered in the greater task of making a true and lasting Peace.”
All
very sober and solemn, and we continued to drift off the Coast of ANZAC Cove
for another hour or so.
That’s
enough now of all that solemn stuff.
Today
is a quiet ‘sea day’ as we sail along
the coast of Turkey, and through Aegean Sea and the Greek Islands towards Southern
Italy. And that’s just as well as yesterday in Istanbul was a very big day.
We were met by
our guide from Viator private touring company soon after 9am when passengers
were cleared to go ashore. Bruce had found this company on the internet and
thought the tour they offered looked good and was not as expensive as the ship
tours. It turned out we were a party of six in a very comfortable and modern
minibus. We didn’t know the other four. In fact one man was a bit niggly, and
seemed to think he had booked a personal private tour and those of us who
couldn’t keep up should just not have come. He was actually quite rude to the
older lady who has muscular dystrophy.
The Turkish
guide spoke really good English, was helpful, and explained everything very
well. Our first stop was for an hour at the big underground bazaar. Let me say
at this stage that we took the wheelchair and Bruce valiantly wheeled me about
what seemed miles of Istanbul. This was very generous and wearing on him.
Having him with me in the markets was both good and bad. He was happy to take
me to see whatever I wanted, but was not an asset shopping. Bless him. Some
readers may know I really like shopping and he hates it.
I wanted to buy
a carry bag for sun glasses, hat, odds and ends and the things like a bottle of
water I might like to take with me to go ashore. So we spent lots of time at
one stall establishing what sort of bag I wanted and what size. Zip on top. Not
too big, but not small either. Soft. We
arrived at one that I thought was just right. These are not the actual prices,
but Bruce’s bargaining technique goes something like this:
Me: And how much is this bag?
Stall Holder: You want to pay Lire?
American Dollar? Euro?
Bruce: American dollar. (Entering the fray)
S.Holder: Ah - American dollar. For you
madam - because you are my first customer today – I will say $100 American
dollars.
Bruce: 30
S.Holder: You are my first customer of the
day, so I say 20% discount off. $80 American.
Bruce: 30
S. Holder: Now this is fine soft leather,
good brand, well made- I cannot let it go under $60.
Bruce: 30
S. Holder: OK. I will say $50. That is my
best price.
Bruce: 30. - Too dear. (to me)Come on. We
are going now - that’s too dear.
And I am wheeled
away. Quite rebellious on the inside. We had taken so long of our limited time
to find a ‘just right’ bag, and here we were leaving with no hope of finding
that stall again in the 4,000 shops of the Bazaar, with narrow, winding
alleyways in all directions.
Bruce
just said there were plenty more bag shops in the Bazaar and we’d find another
one.
We
looked at belts, sunglasses, pashminas, Turkish embroidered tops and other bags.
We did the same kind of haggle over the sunglasses. This time we managed to reach a compromise
price between Bruce’s set in concrete price and that stall holder’s best price,
because I came in and entered the contest about price. I thought we were going
to spend an hour in the biggest bazaar market in the world and come out with
nothing to show for it. It was all so frustrating.
That
bag. On our way back to the minibus the stall holder and I recognized each
other as we were speeding by. The exit road was uphill, so I managed to get
Bruce to stop for a breather.
I
reopened the bidding, produced Australian Dollar notes from my meagre supply.
The stall holder’s young assistant produced the Turkish newspaper of the day
and presented us with the Exchange Rate for Turkish Lire and Australian Dollar.
We reached what I thought was a satisfactory price and made the exchange.
Bruce’s
reaction? He thought I paid too much. He thought I should have left the
bargaining to him. He said he was glad he didn’t shop with me too often.
I echoed that sentiment heartily – in
silence.
Our
next three hours were spent in the Hippodrome Square, the Blue Mosque, and the
Topkapi Palace.
The
Hippodrome Square was the long mall-type space that used to be the central
diametre of a large Roman Circus complex that rivaled the Colosseum. Dating
from 3rd Century AD, in it’s day it could hold more than 60,000
spectators, and race four horses abreast teams. On one side it had a ‘private
box’ for the Emperor (Constantine) with a tunnel connecting it to the nearby
palace. Near the entrance Constantine’s Pillar was a tall stone edifice, pitted
with small indentations in the stone where there used to be copper decorations
filched by the Crusaders in later centuries as souvenirs!
The
nearby Blue Mosque had been built in the early 1600s and its interior is
magnificent with huge pillars and stained glass windows. It takes its name from
the blue and green Isnik tiles that give the whole interior a soft blue light.
It is still a functioning mosque, and our guide explained how the carpet mimics
the prayer mats brought in and left in its early centuries. At the front door
you were expected to take off your shoes and plastic bag dispensers similar to
those at Woolworths were provided to carry around your shoes with you.
Outside
the mosque there were also provided copius blue cotton to act as scarves for
ladies to wear to cover their heads, and green wraps for men/women to cover
bare legs. No bare shoulders or knees please.
The tiles are of
such high quality – 80% quartz – that they are now very valuable and sell for
thousands of pounds each in London when they come on the market.
The day was hot
and the Topkapi Palace was built around three open courtyards, as in the manner
of the Chinese. Our guide told us that early Turkish people came from China and
brought the custom. The courtyards are placed in order of importance. Just
walking through these open courtyards was difficult because of the heat of the
sun, the roughness of the paths and many steps from one place to the next.
This Cailiph’s
Palace was not built to cater for elderly people pushing other elderly people in
wheelchairs. There were people of all ages, colours and nationalities streaming
through the courtyards. School excursions. Tour groups. Older couples. Couples
with young children. Groups of two or three women all in black from head to toe
–including all but eyes – chatting away, out for the day together. Brightly
clad girls in summer shirts and shorts.
I had time to
observe the passing parade as it got to be all too much for Bruce and we sat
out lots of the time when we found seating in the shade. We weren’t the only
ones. There were plenty of seats lining
the covered area outside the large buildings – including what was once the
‘Parliament’ building of the council advising the Cailiph.
One fact that
struck me was that in its day this palace had 5,000 people living there, and
all of them - from the Cailiph, the royal family and all down to the lowest
servants - were fed each day by the huge kitchens that faced one whole side of
the first courtyard. They needed 400 sheep every day!
Time for lunch.
Except we had to do it all in reverse. Back out of courtyard three, steps,
through courtyard two, steps, out through courtyard one and into the street.
Not far and we went into a long covered area outside a row of coffee shops. At
one we were expected, seated, and served salad while chicken and lamb ‘Kebabs’
were cooked. Drinks we had to buy – including water by the small bottle. There
was a welcome breeze through here. A small sign proclaimed “Free wifi” and the
young waiter was delighted to help me with my phone. Quick fingers and he had
me connected. I used the mysterious ‘Viber’ phone connection family had
insisted I download -for the first and only time so far. We spoke to family in Melbourne. All for free.
Toilets were a
problem. The older ladies said they did 38 steps down in the third courtyard.
Then up again. Clean when they got there. The same problem at the coffee shop.
Toilets were up a winding stair on the third floor. Our next stop was a hotel,
with lifts up to toilets on the first floor. I was very pleased to see them. The
catch was that this was a carpet making demonstration, display and sale place.
It was interesting enough but we had no intention of buying carpets. The small
one she was working on was about a metre by eighty centimetres and would take 8
months in all to complete. It was silk and the cost was in hundreds of dollars.
Which you could understand when it took one person all that time working full
time to complete it.
We were offered
refreshments and I chose Turkish Apple Tea. Bruce had a small strong Turkish
coffee. Beer was also on offer. Was this a Muslim state? Meanwhile we were
shown about ten types of Carpets: made of lamb’s wool, made of pure silk, made
of mercerized cotton, made of various mixtures and we were offered the opportunity
to purchase our selection, with free delivery to Australia. They were certainly beautiful.
No one but Mr.
Niggly (see above) was interested. For about 45 minutes, he and his wife viewed
different colours and styles and sizes of carpets, while the rest of us sat and
watched and waited. He haggled styles and prices – which we couldn’t really hear
- and eventually decided against
purchase (maybe his bargaining style was similar to Bruce’s and he thought if
he threatened to depart the price would come down).
We all trouped
downstairs again into our little coach, and headed through Istanbul for the
ship. We haven’t met up with any of our
Istanbul companions on the ship in the days since. Mr Niggly I don’t want to
meet again.
It was still
very hot and I know Bruce and I were both very tired when we got ‘home’ to our
cool cabin.
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