Our first night out in Istanbul was a bit of a mixed bag, as we clearly struggled with both language difficulties and cultural norms. Based on the recommendation of the concierge at the hotel, we headed down to the harbour to find a restaurant. We didn’t have a specific place in mind, but we were told that there were plenty of good places and that we’d find one if we simply walked around the area.
After a few minutes of walking around, found a place that looked okay. There was a rather formidable woman in the window rolling dough and cooking something, and the place looked busy enough, so we went in.
Enticing us into a restaurant, Turkish-style
Our first struggle was ordering a few beers. We ordered beers, and they were brought out for us – but they were weak and warm. After using our best sign language to indicate that we’d prefer cold beer, we were presented with a bucket of ice cubes! At this point, we sort of gave up on the beer idea and decided to order some wine as well. After considerable misunderstanding, the guests at the next table kindly stepped in and explained that the restaurant was Muslim and therefore didn’t serve any alcohol – which explained why our (apparently non-alcoholic) beer tasted so terrible. We reverted to tea.
Matt and Swami tuck into a Turkish feast
The second problem was trying to explain that our colleague, Swami, was a vegetarian. The concept of a vegetarian is apparently unheard of in Turkey. After explaining politely to the waiter that ‘chicken’ wasn’t really a vegetarian option, we finally ended up ordering something from the big woman in the window – as best we can tell, it was some sort of bread with cheese and spinach. It wasn’t entirely successful, and Swami supplemented his dinner with a few bowls of peanuts at the bar we found afterwards.
Swami in the bar, enjoying a vegetarian diet of peanuts and beer…
We were drawn into the bar by the live music – which seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, once you’ve heard the millionth song played on the lute with a dodgy Turkish singer, you’re about ready to shoot yourself. He kept turning to us and apparently asking for our requests, but as my Turkish is a little rusty, we weren’t able to comply. He seemed pretty disappointed that we weren’t singing along.
Our taxi ride back to the hotel was a little hair-raising, even by Turkish standards. I suspect we should have been tipped off by the sticker on the side of the cab. Hanging from the rear-view mirror was a shark’s tooth, which indicates slightly more risk-taking behaviour on the part of the taxi driver than, say, a crucifix. We made it back in one piece, but we were definitely more ‘shaken’ than ‘stirred’.
The hotel we’re staying at is brand new, but quality control doesn’t seem to have factored into the equation. Everything is falling apart despite its newness. The light switches are all wonky. The tap on the sink doesn’t work property. The tap on the shower came off the wall when I tried to turn it on. The air conditioning in the conference room doesn’t work. And the lights seem to go on and off at random intervals, plunging our conference room into darkness. At least it adds some excitement to the day.
Finally, a moment of light relief. Realise, of course, that I don’t normally use a bidet. And that I didn’t really intend to use a bidet. But curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to see how the combined toilet / bidet worked. Fast forward to a jet of water shooting out across the bathroom and out into the hallway and frantic mopping up with towels. I’ll stick to toilet paper, thanks.
