Brits and Baklava

Hello again, my loyal blog readers. Your patience will be rewarded, as I have some gripping tales to tell you of my recent globe trot back to Kenya. Here's how it went down:
(Disclaimer: my technology got the better of me again and I cannot figure out how to get my phone pics on my ipad without Internet.....so I took a picture of the picture to you could get a vague idea of Turkey. The pic quality is so bad it's painful- sorry Omari ;)
My flight to, and layover in, NYC was largely uneventful. I then boarded my 10 hour flight to Istanbul, which went off without a hitch. I really do love finding my seat on the plane and discovering it is full of treats, just for me (never mind everyone else gets them too ;). A little goodie bag, slippers, my little blanket and pillow. It just makes me happy. I watched some movies, took a few naps, ate all the little miniature foods they brought me, and all around relaxed. Quite the treat for me. If only I could have completely stretched my legs out, now then I would have been utterly content. I wore my sexy compression socks as well, since last time I flew it looked like someone had baked loaves of bread into my sandals (I know, it paints a gross mind picture, doesn't it? ). So, I arrived in Istanbul with skinny feet and a mostly rested soul........quite ready for adventure. Now, I had an 8 hour-ish layover in Istanbul, so I decided to venture out of my little airport cocoon and experience Turkey. I'll be honest, I was as motivated by the prospect of getting a Turkish visa and stamp in my passport as I was about seeing the city. I just really love those stamps :).
Anyway, I got a hold of a map of the metro and a general sense of where the cool stuff was most congested-and then headed in that direction. I then met an interested pair, Dan and Anna, who were also headed downtown, so we set off together. It seems an odd phenomenon, but it always makes me feel better to go with someone else, even if they have even less of an idea of where to go than I do. So after a jousled hour of public transit, I bid my new friends farewell and set off to see the Blue Mosque. Which was absolutely stunning. All around that area of town there were little wrought-iron encircled islands of ornately carved gravestones or statues. And on several of the blocks there were little moss covered havens of what can only be described as "ancient ruins", tucked between modern buildings and shops. Very cool. The street food was spectacular, and as expected, there was baklava and turkish delight on every corner :)

While wandering around the courtyard of the mosque, I met a young man named Fezzie (or he met me, more like) and he took me to all the best scenic spots for pictures. To my great shame-I only had my camera on my phone with me :(. Then he took me to his family's carpet shop around the corner (don't worry mom-I was ready at the drop of a hat to pull out my rape whistle if he showed signs of stranger danger). I do not know if he was hitting on me, or trying to sell me a carpet, or he was just a nice guy. Either way, I really enjoyed seeing how the lovely carpets were made, and I had a nice chat with his uncle over the best apple tea I have ever had, in the cutest little cup :). The carpets were priced based on the size, but more importantly-how many knots per square inch. My favorite rug had a fiesty pinkish red design and took 1 woman 18 months to make. Fezzie's nephew was the rug boy, and they would chatter in Turkish and point, then he would select the rug they wanted and roll it out on the floor with such a delightful flourish. I definitely got the feeling he had to practice that before he was given the job.

After the carpet encounter, I made my way to the bazaar, or market, to do a little shopping. I wisely set a timer on my phone because, as many of you know, nothing makes time fly for me more than shopping in international craft markets :). And oh my-did they have the most lovely things !!!! With new treasures in tow, I headed back to the airport to hop on yet another flight. At this point the jet lag was starting to kick in. I realized I was nodding off while standing up on the subway when I looked up and caught a cherub-ish old woman in a head scarf laughing at me.

The second flight was similar to the first: movie, food, nap, repeat. With one exception. During my second movie, I was startled awake when a large Russian man collapsed in the aisle, literally at my feet. He was only out for a few seconds, which I used to untangle myself from a mess of blankets and headphones, stumble over his body to try to lift elevate his legs a bit, and call for help (which by this point was a little unnecessary since everyone one the plane was watching). The most likely and less dangerous cause of his swoon was he just had too many of those little bottles of wine and stood up too fast. The more unlikely, but much more dangerous possibility, was that he had a pulmonary embolism. As I was trying to assess this and find someone who spoke Russian and English, the man in front of me gnawed right through my last nerve. Let me preface this next part by saying, this incredibly loud British man was sitting in front of me and talked the ENTIRE flight to a girl he did not know (I know this because I heard their whole conversation). And he just happened to be the expert in just about everything, including how to "fix" Africa ( don't get me started). I could even hear him over the dragon fight scene in Harry Potter-goblet of fire. After giving his loud, professional recommendation for this man's treatment (the man worked in business), he put his hand on my arm and informed me I didn't need to trouble myself with giving him the "kiss of life" since he was fine, he was just another drunk, angry Russian. Well. It was through gritted teeth that I informed him that I felt the responsibility to care for any passenger who found themselves on their back in the aisle, whether it be this drunk, angry Russian, or the arrogant, obnoxious Brit sitting in front of me.............thankfully we landed shortly after because things got a little awkward :)
There was one more adventure to this journey, but I am quite tired and I fear I may lose my readers interest if I ramble on anymore, so under my mosquito net I go.
Goodnight!
Jessie

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