2025 Vacation Turkey Highlights (3 of 3)
Arriving in Istanbul
We landed at 4am in Madrid’s Terminal 4S, the satellite terminal that many international flights use. We were in no rush getting off the plane since we had at least an 8-hour layover until our connecting flight. But unlike the first time when we had a similar length layover in Madrid, this time we elected to stay in the airport. But would we live to regret this decision? Upon disembarkation, we walked slowly through the terminal, cleared immigration, and meandered our way to the airport’s tram. We didn’t read any signs or anything. We just got off one stop later at the main terminal 4, most likely due to muscle memory.
We walked through the terminal partly with a purpose, partly just to kill time. We took paths and escalators up and down various levels, this time following signs to baggage claim and ground transportation. Since we were using different airlines, we knew we would have to collect our bags before checking in to our next flights, so no biggie. But after collecting our bags, when we didn’t see a way to check in for our next flights, we got a bit concerned. It turns out that even though Iberia used Terminal 4 for its outbound international flights, our airlines used different terminals. We had to make our way to those terminals if we wanted to check-in. So, we caught the airport shuttle from ground transportation and headed to terminal 2. (Nope, the tram does not connect T4 to the other terminals. However, T1, T2, and T3 are connected.)
The boy and I were flying Turkish and the girls were flying Lufthansa. Eventually, my family split up because Turkish airlines leaves from Terminal 2 while Lufthansa leaves from Terminal 1. We got to Terminal 2 around 6ish. It was still too early to check-in to my flight. I used the kiosk to print out a boarding pass but was unable to check my bag. I would have to wait for the desk to open and physically hand it to someone. At this time, we were a bit hungry.
But the lounges were airside. Because we had to check our bags, we were stuck landside for now. We had another 3 hours to wait until check-in opened at 9. The girls flight left an hour after my noon flight so they couldn’t check-in until 10am at the earliest. With no stores open, limited possibilities for breakfast, and few charging ports, we sucked it up and waited our time at a Burger King table in Terminal 2.
As soon as the desk opened, RJ and I checked our luggage to our destination and returned to Burger King. We waited with the girls for another 40 minutes or so before walking with them to Terminal 1 where they would check in to their flight. After their bags were tagged and processed, we were all a bit lighter, sleepier, and hungrier. We hugged and took a few sad-looking pictures before parting ways. After one final glance, RJ and I made our way back to T2 while the girls made their way through security. Soon, they would be refreshing themselves in the lounge. Back in T2, we were fast-tracked through security. After meandering though security, we caught a short escalator and made our way to our lounge where we waited out our time to go to our gate.
We wouldn’t have to wait long. Not 20 minutes after arriving, the monitors said that we should make our way to the gate. (For some reason, Turkish wants its passengers at the gate like an hour before boarding.) We made our way to the gate where we promptly waited in line for said hour. We began to board 15 minutes after we were supposed to take off.
As we boarded our flight to Turkey, I took a deep breath and enjoyed every second as I turned LEFT to my seats. This was going to be the first time that RJ would travel business class. (No, these were not lie-flat seats but they were much more comfortable than the recliners I was in on the Madrid to Dakar leg.). After our pre-departure beverage, we settled into our seats. We were ready for our 4-hour flight to Turkey. I would love to say that RJ enjoyed his experience but he pretty much slept the whole way through. In the last hour, we found our IFEs hidden in the armrest. I watched the moving map for the last hour or so while RJ watched whatever it is that 8-year-olds watch.
It was a smooth flight. We landed, we disembarked first and slowly made our way to immigration. We were not in a rush since the girls had to connect in Frankfurt, they were not scheduled to land in Turkey for another 4 hours. After clearing immigration, I proceeded to the red lane so I could declare my medicine (liquid eye drops) to the customs agent. Before I could reach the declare-no declare split, an officer signaled to me that the exit was “that way” and pointed me to the green lane. And so it was, all that research and stress I had concerned about bringing contraband into Turkey was all for naught. At least on this day, they couldn’t have cared less.
Clearing customs, RJ and I picked up our bags and exited the airport baggage area. Right outside this area was another area with a few shops and money changing places. We would wait for the girls at yet another Burger King. Eventually, they showed up and we were reunited again. To get to our AirBNB, I used one of the taxi services at the airport. The lady at the booth quoted me 80 euros to get to my spot, but since she liked me, she’d take me for 60. I still had a 50 euro note from the first time I was in Madrid and I offered it to her. She quickly accepted. Another of her employees walked us out to the parking lot and took us up the elevator where a taxi was waiting for us. We piled in and nearly 30 minutes later, we pulled up to my accommodation for the week.
There was a bit of a mix-up when we got to the area. Turkish addresses are not usually precise. They will get you in the general area but will not take you right to the door. My host provided me with an exact address but I could not find the message or email where he sent it. By process of elimination (his was the only building in the block that was an approved AirBNB), we found the door. But that email also had the door code on it. Luckily, some folks were coming out so they just opened the door for us. We thanked the taxi driver for helping us with our bags and wished him goodnight. Ours was apartment 7. Simple enough, but there were only 2 apartments on the first floor. Ugh! Our apartment was on the third floor… and there was no elevator that we could see. So, we lugged 6 bags up three flights of a spiral staircase (some dude helped me with mine. Thanks dude.). Had I known that there was no elevator, I would’ve no doubt chose a different spot. (I’m sure the $855.27 I spent on the AirBNB for the week could’ve gotten me another cool spot. I had initially reserved a Hilton in the heart of the city but I didn’t want to spend 400,000 points to reserve two rooms there with the fifth night free so I canceled the reservation. I’m sure they had an elevator) but I digress. By the time we got up to our spot, I had found the email. This email also had the lockbox code. Armed with this info, Suazette opened the box, unlocked the door, and we finally made it into our apartment at about 11pm.
For the rest of the evening, we assigned rooms and went straight to bed. Our plan was to hit the ground running in the morning. We eventually did hit the ground, but it was more like a crawl than a run.
Getting our Bearings
Day 2 in Istanbul started off slow. I had planned to get in those Turkey streets no later than 8-9:00. But my family had other plans. Those logs (I mean… my family) didn’t budge until about 11:00 and we didn’t hit the streets until about 1pm. Were they still jet lagged? No way!
I guess it’s hard to distinguish between jet lag and garden variety fatigue. In my opinion, jet lag shouldn’t have been a big issue since Turkey is only three hours ahead of Senegal and one hour ahead of Spain. But maybe it was mixed with a bit of fatigue. Looking back at it, we left our hotel to go to the reserve in Senegal at 9am (noon Istanbul time) on Sunday. After a full day of activities, we caught the flight to Madrid at 9pm and landed at 4 am (5am Istanbul time) on Monday. We hung around for 7 hours then caught our connections to Turkey. RJ and I landed at 5pm, the girls at 9pm Monday. We didn’t get into our AirBNB until 11pm, a full 35 hours after we had a proper rest in a bed. Minus a few hours scattered here or there, we had been up more than a whole day. Considering this perspective, I guess it’s ok that they slept a bit later than I would have preferred.
Once we finally did leave, our mission was two-fold: one, get something to eat and two, get our bearings in our new neighborhood. To be sure, Istanbul is an ancient city blessed with ancient city intricacies (like cobblestone streets, hills, and winding roads) and plagued with ancient city intricacies (like cobblestone streets, hills, and winding roads). However, the GPS apps worked fine once they figured out where you were. It was not uncommon to be told to turn right at an intersection with a sharp right, moderate right, and slight right option. Once you take a few steps, it would recalculate. Brutal! It also wasn’t uncommon to be told that your destination will take 20 minutes by taxi or 15 minutes walking. (Even worse, a 0.9 mile walk would often take 15 minutes because of the hills and cobblestones.). Navigating in Istanbul is not for the faint of heart.
Our apartment was in the Beyoglu district and is located off of a winding road that snaked its way up a hill. The neighborhood was about 2/3 up the hill. We had to walk down a series of intersecting alleys to get to our building. We followed the GPS down the hill, up some steps, across a street, up some more steps and across a busy street to find several lunch spots. We picked one and had our first proper Turkish meal in Turkey. After lunch, we wanted to see some of the city’s major attractions, specifically Hagia Sophia (the mosque that used to be a church) and the Blue Mosque. Our GPS said that we could get there using mass transit. So, we set out to do just that. But first, we had to find where the metro and tram stops were.
Leaving our lunch spot, we walked up another short flight of steps and up a long but shallow sloping hill. This hill contained many roadside stalls selling everything from fruit to souvenirs to clothing to shoes. About ¾ up the hill, we darted through one of the covered alleys (full of shops) where we had our first indoctrination to Turkey economics. Sariah saw some scarves she just had to have. She purchased them without even attempting to bargain first (big mistake but it was her money). While waiting for her to purchase her wares, I purchased a flag from a stall nearby that RJ summarily claimed as his own. All smiles now, we continued on our journey. We turned left out of the alley and walked about 100 feet before encountering a major tourist area and shopping district, Istikial Avenue. A Google search explains that “this bustling 1.4 kilometer pedestrian thoroughfare [is] known for its wide array of stores, dining options, entertainment, and vibrant atmosphere.” It truly had all kinds of shopping opportunities. Flushed with wads of cash from saved up allowance, the girls wanted to abandon the plan and just shop here. It was hard but I was able to wrangle them back in line and press forward.
We all were rewarded for our persistence. As we walked down the street, the girls were allowed to window shop at dozens of stores. At the end of the street, we found our metro station, the Sishane metro station. We went into the station to catch our train but needed tickets to ride. I had watched several YouTube videos so I knew I needed to use the yellow machines in the station to buy my passes. The YouTubers made it look so effortless, converting the language to English, and then purchasing their passes using a credit card or cash. But it is not simple I assure you. We spent about 30 minutes trying to buy 5 passes. The machine wouldn’t convert to English. The machine wouldn’t accept my AMEX … or VISA. The machine stalled out. The card wouldn’t load. Wouldn’t take big bills. etc. etc. etc. Eventually, a guy who was refilling his card helped us out without speaking a word of English: we now had 5 freshly minted passes ready to ride the train (if only that guy was around when it was time to reload our passes). We proceeded to the gates, tapped our card, 17 TL (about 40 cents) was removed from our card balance, and the turnstile let us in. We were on our way. Kudos to us: We successfully navigated the M2 and M1 metro lines. We went a couple of stops and when we surfaced from underground, we crossed a couple of death-trap intersections and ultimately made it to the Karakoy tram station. We took the T1 tram 5 stops to the Sultanahmet tram stop where we were greeted with our first views of both the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia.
Blue Mosque
The Blue Mosque is an Ottoman-era imperial mosque built between 1609 and 1617 during the rule of Ahmed I (and is still a functioning mosque today). It is free to enter but visitors (especially non-muslims) are limited in the areas that they can visit. There are several tours that’ll give you more historical facts about the mosque but we had arrived too late in the evening to take advantage of these. So after about 20 minutes of wandering around the main floor, we left. It was a bit anti-climatic to tell the truth. We saw stuff and I snapped pictures but that was about it. I had lacked the historical, cultural, architectural, and religious importance of the symbols, shapes, and colors used in the mosque. I was happy that I had “checked it off my list” even if I felt unfulfilled because I didn’t really know what I was looking at. Nevertheless, Suazette and Makayla were unimpressed. Historical places are not their “thing.” They went just because I had wanted to go. Indeed, they were ready to go as soon as they got there…. After 20 minutes, I had joined them in their sentiment. On to the next!
Even though the Blue Mosque was “mid,” I had my hopes set on visiting the mosque next door, Hagia Sophia. Google explains that Hagia Sophia was built as a Byzantine cathedral but was later converted into a mosque. It continues, “it’s renowned for its impressive dome, intricate mosaics, and its significance as a symbol of both Christian and Islamic history and culture.” Unfortunately, because we arrived so late (at sunset), it had closed for the day. (It closes at 7pm but it is open for 24/7 for worshippers. I assume they mean Muslim worshippers, but they weren’t specific. Maybe I could’ve… never mind). We would have to visit it another day. (Spoiler Alert: we never made it back to Hagia Sophia.)
The day was a mixed bag. Some wins, some losses. We got a late start to the day but we found our way around our neighborhood. We caught the metro and the tram but had to invest a half-hour to buy the tickets. We mapped our travel using Google Maps and Moovit but our phones had no battery and/or signal. I always print out transit maps for a new city but this time, I left them in my luggage. We were able to go into the Blue Mosque but not Hagia Sophia. We saw its architecture but couldn’t appreciate its symbolism. Overall, I gotta say it was a … decent day.
We decided to head back home right when the city was coming alive. Istanbul, like New York, is truly a city that never sleeps. Stores were just opening as we were turning in for the day. We still weren’t completely confident in our navigation skills (especially not at night). So better safe than sorry, we headed back home on the tram. I’m not sure if we ended up back on the metro too or if we just caught a cab to our neighborhood. But whatever we did, we arrived back in our neighborhood around midnight. We made a pit stop at the corner store and got some snacks to munch on. By the time we got in, we had just enough time to rest up for the next day. I had some plans for the next day but they were pretty much usurped by the family.
Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar
So far, we have seen a couple of religious sites older than the US. Check. Next up on the to do list? Visiting a 550-year old … flea market. Fine, not really a flea market. Officially, it’s known as a bazaar: the Grand Bazaar to be specific. This market was initiated by Ottoman sultan Fatih Sultan Mehmet and opened 1455. This place was a vital stop on the Silk Road, linking East to West. It’s survived floods and earthquakes but has always been rebuilt and restored. Now, as soon as you get off the tram at Beyazit-Kapali station, you will enter the organized chaos which is the Grand Bazaar. Here, you can buy anything from handbags to spices to teas to carpets to porcelain to lunch to jerseys to luggage.
It is expected that you bargain here. Everything Is overpriced, think 2-3 times the actual cost. A good rule of thumb is to offer 30% of the original asking price. Eventually through negotiations, you’ll end up around 40-60% of the original asking price. At this price point, it’s a win-win for everyone. You get your item for nearly half off and the seller sells his product with a nearly 67% markup over its actual cost. Well, it’s not actually a win for you. Unfortunately, the items at this bazaar are poorly made. Many of the “unique” Turkish items are mass produced China exports. Even the items a couple blocks away from the bazaar are much cheaper and of better quality.
I brought the family here just so we could check it off of my to-do list. But before we got there, I advised them all NOT to buy anything from the bazaar (for the reasons mentioned in the previous paragraph). We were here just to sightsee and experience the bazaar, not to buy cheap goods. Luckily, my girls’ allowances didn’t stretch that far. They quickly saw that they were unable to buy much of what they wanted (especially since they were unwilling to haggle). Without purchasing anything, walking the endless gridded aisles became monotonous. After maybe an hour, we decided to head for the exits. We didn’t stay long but we could in clear conscious say that we came, we saw, and we experienced the Grand Bazaar.
A few tram stops away from the Grand Bazaar was the Spice Bazaar (also known as Egyptian Bazaar). This market sat across the street from the Eminonu tram stop and the Eminonu ferry port. It was built in 1660 and was (and still is) the center of spice trade in Istanbul. Any kind of spices you can think of you can find here. Literally. However, other types of shops (selling Turkish delights and other sweets, jewelry, souvenirs, dried fruits, and nuts) have moved into the Spice Bazaar as well. This market’s building is part of the New Mosque and revenue from its shops is used for the upkeep of the mosque.
This bazaar definitely had fairer prices and better-quality stuff than the Grand Bazaar but there were no “gotta have” bargains. We did have lunch here which was quite good (and reasonably priced). The girls ended up buying some trinkets or earrings or something from an accessory store. I went next door and got a solid wood cane (which would come in handy throughout the week). Surprisingly, Makayla splurged for some Bluetooth headphones which she has since broken sleeping on them. We all got ice cream too and more bottles of 30 cent waters than I care to count. Full, hydrated, and a bit tired of the ordered chaos of bazaar life, it was time to go. It was 6:00pm and the sun was just starting to set.
We walked out of the bazaar and grabbed a spot on the bazaar’s exterior to sit. The kids grabbed a couple of grilled cobs of corn while we discussed what we should do next. It was at this time that a man and his family approached us. Armed with a new weapon (the cane I just bought), the Baltimore almost came out of me but he and his family were harmless. It turns out that they had seen us from afar and just wanted to speak. He had two daughters and a son. I have two daughters and a son. His son was about the same age as RJ. He was from Iran. My country … bombed Iran (unprovoked but that’s another post). He just wanted to come over and say hi. And take a picture with the Black family that they just had to meet. It just goes to show you that even if countries are sworn enemies, the people of those countries for the most part are good and honorable. Travel uncovers everyone’s human decency and much like music, transcends language barriers, governmental policies, cultural differences, and racial stereotypes. RJ took a picture with his son and we no doubt, made their day. As they walked away, I put my Baltimore-ness away and continued to enjoy the rest of the evening.
Asia
Since we were already at the ferry port, we decided to catch a ferry…to Asia. After all, Istanbul is a city on two continents. Europe and Asia are separated by the Bosphorus. Istanbul runs ferries (as a regular part of its metro system) that transports residents and tourists alike between both continents for 17 TL one-way, less than a dollar. Yes, for about 50 cents, we got a 20-minute river cruise – just enough time to rest up before we explore some more.
The ferry docked at Kadikoy (not to be mixed up with Karikoy) and we stepped off the boat onto Asia. By this time, the sun was nearly set. We didn’t really have a plan other than to wing it. Unfortunately, we arrived too late. It would be dark soon and we needed to get our bearings before venturing out far from the port. We wanted to catch the sunset at a restaurant overlooking the harbor but we didn’t find any that we really wanted to eat at. As the sun continued to set over Europe across the water, we turned inland and walked across the street where we found a restaurant right behind the bus depot. We ate dinner there. When we were seated, it was bright and sunny. By the time our food came, it was golden hour. By the time we were finished, it was pitch black.
In the cover of darkness, I asked the waiter for the check. He gave me the check and when I went to pay for it, his eyes lit up. I had pulled out my AMEX Gold card to pay for the meal (you know it gets 4x points on all dining purchases with no transaction fees) and the waiter audibly gasped. He had never seen an AMEX before and he said it was his dream to have one. He asked if he could hold it and I said sure. When I tapped my card on the terminal and the charge was approved, his eyes rolled in the back of his head with sheer delight. The next thing he did caught me by surprise: my waiter asked if he could take a picture of my card. I said sure. I covered my personal info and he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket to take a picture of my card. After his picture, I took out a couple of my other AMEX cards including the AMEX Platinum and AMEX Business Gold (I didn’t have my AMEX Blue Business Plus because that card has foreign transaction fees) and told him he could take a picture of those too. Seeing the glee on his face made my day.
After my brief stint with the paparazzi, I quickly put my cards away and headed back across the street to continue my vacation in Europe as a common tourist. Shortly, the ferry arrived and within minutes it set off on its intercontinental voyage. During my time onboard I had to wonder: why do strange things always happen to me whenever I travel? From being approached randomly by an Iranian family to getting my credit cards picture taken, weird stuff always happens to me.
As we pulled up to the dock on the European side, we noticed that nothing looked familiar. It didn’t look like the Eminonu port that we came in on. At least at that port, we knew we could take the T1 to get home. Now, we had to figure out where we were and where we needed to be to get us home. We walked along the harbor’s shore, under an overpass, passed some folks in several restaurants who looked like they didn’t have a care in the world, up a hill, and up some steps. When we emerged streetside, we noticed that we were across the street from the Karikoy tram station. We had caught a cab to this station when we started out in the morning headed to the Grand Bazaar so we knew we were relatively close to home. If push came to shove, we could just take a cab home. But the best laid plans…
In the evening, cabs put the tourist tax on rides. A ride that costs 200 TL that morning was now costing 800 TL. Plus, no one wanted to take five people (which means we would’ve had to take two cabs for 1,600 TL). Never that! We set off in the direction we thought the GPS was sending us and eventually (about a half an hour later), we pulled up to our doorstep. We walked up the 54 spirally steps (yes I counted, don’t judge me) and collapsed on the bed. That was it for the day.
Neighborhood Vibes
After the Grand Bazaar, Spice Bazaar, and the ferry to and from Asia, we decided to take it easy the next day. Actually, I still had some other sites that I wanted to see but the family wanted to take it easy. Ultimately, we decided to go shopping at Istiklal, that pedestrian street we walked through earlier in the week. To get there, we still had to walk out of our building, cross that busy street, walk up those steps, walk up the hill with all the shops, cut through that passageway where Sariah had bought those scarves before reaching the main street.
While cutting through the passageway, Sariah decided to go back to the shop she went to earlier in the week so she could increase her stash of scarves. She was disappointed after visiting the bazaar the day before because of all the “tourist prices” and her inability to bargain. While price markups are not as severe outside of the bazaars, it is still very prevalent. For the most part, you can expect at least a 50% markup as a “tourist tax” above the actual (read: local) price everywhere. With this knowledge, It would behoove you to offer 30% of the asking price. After a little haggling, you can expect to settle around 40-60% of the original asking price. This would still be a fair price, providing a profit for the merchant without extorting the customer.
I accompanied Sariah in the shop and let her try her hand at bargaining. Well, she failed miserably. (I still love her but it is what it is.). She didn’t really bargain at all. She started high and the guy just accepted her offer. Done. Unfortunately, she gave away all of her bargaining leverage because he knew exactly how much she was willing to pay. The merchant was a good sport though. He provided a couple of “offers” but no matter how he packaged them, they still seemed to come up to her original offer somehow. Ultimately, she had to suck it up and pay her initial offer. (You win some, you lose some.)
There’s not much else to say about the day. We spent the rest of the day … shopping. We went in this store. We went in that store. We looked at this rack of clothes and we looked at that rack of clothes. We got some ice cream. We got some other sweet treats. We just went … shopping.
Two interesting things happened while we were out though. While I was sitting on the stoop in front of some store that the big girl had entered, the power went out. We found out that the power regularly goes out when the temperature is quite warm. We spent the rest of the day shopping in the dark. Cool experience because all the other shoppers were completely unfazed by the darkness. The fact that the lights weren’t on just meant that they’d have to wait a little while longer before checking out (you know, no power and all). They were complete accustomed to this mild inconvenience – they didn’t bat an eye.
The second cool thing happened while RJ and I were waiting for the girls to finish shopping at another store. We were waiting in a shoe store across from the clothing store the girls were in when the shoe store guy just started blasting some music. The rhythm got to me and I started bobbing my head. Dude saw me and just started dancing. It was one of those cross-cultural moments I live for. Completely unscripted. It didn’t matter that we spoke two different languages. Our shared humanity was on full display. I didn’t buy anything from the shoe guy but I think I made his day the same way he made mine.
After leaving this mini-mall, we headed home – but not before the girls made one more stop. They wanted to buy trinkets and stuff from some stores on the other side of the street; I was over it. So, I decided to go to the nearest ATM, and withdraw some cash for them. That way, they could spend however much allowance they saved up (and leave me out of it). Suazette, RJ, and I posted up on some steps near the ATM and just waited for the girls to do their thing. I didn’t know trinket shopping was so complex. It took them nearly an hour to return to us. And we couldn’t call them because BOTH of their phones were dead. Ultimately, the family reunited. We walked back home, happy that we stayed relatively close to home. After a long tiring day of doing nothing, we were able to go straight home without having to deal with any overpriced cab scams.
Looking back at it, it was cool to not have an agenda for the day. Little did we know that the agenda planned for the next day would be completely obliterated. That was one of the most taxing days I have ever had in all of my years of travel.
Birthdays, an Art Museum and a Cell Phone
The next day was the reason this trip was taken. Unlike other years, I deliberately scheduled this trip so that Sariah could celebrate her birthday “on the road.” And the day described in this excerpt was her actual 16th birthday. I succeeded in getting her to Turkey to celebrate this momentous occasion – or so I thought.
There was still a lot that I hadn’t checked off of my list yet: I hadn’t seen the Basilica Cistern, I hadn’t gone in the Hagia Sophia, and I never walked in Topkapi Palace. But today was all about Sariah. I put these things aside for one more day and left the day open. Today’s Itinerary? Nothing. We were going to do whatever Sariah wanted to do because today was her day. She decided that she wanted to go to an art museum. So, we made our way to the Istanbul Museum of Art.
We got out of our AirBNB at a good time. Around noon, we left our neighborhood and headed to the taxi stand. I hailed a cab who graciously fit all five of us in. The museum was in the same district (Beyoglu) that we were staying in so it wasn’t that long of a ride. We made some conversation with the driver (as much as people who speak broken English and broken Turkish can understand each other) who was quite pleasant to talk to. After about 15 minutes, we pulled up across the street from the museum. The driver had used the meter but I could not see it from my angle. He said it would be 295 TL. I was sitting in the front and the family was sitting in the back. Once we pulled up, they quickly hopped out. (I believe they hopped out so quickly so they could stretch their legs. The four of them must’ve been cramped in the back of a standard taxi.). I wasn’t as eager to hop out. I needed to pay the fare but I also had a cane in one hand, my phone on my lap, and my wallet in my other hand.
I reached into my wallet and pulled out two bills. It’s hard to tell the denomination of bills when they are all in different colors, especially when the color of some denominations look quite similar (for example, one may be pink, one light orange and another a faded red). I thought I had given the driver two 200TL notes so I was expecting to get about 100 TL change. Imagine my surprise when he handed me back a 5 TL note as my change! Naw, you aren’t getting me like that! I asked for the rest of my change and he said that’s all I gave him. We went back and forth several times before opening his wallet to show me that that was all that he had. I wasn’t convinced because he could have put it in his pocket. Now, I’m frantic. I tried to hold the bills up so that my family could read the notes before I handed them to the driver (we were kind of holding up traffic) but lo and behold, the back seat was empty. In a rush to get out the car, none of them really paid attention to the interaction between me and the driver. They were standing on the sidewalk looking at me but could not come to my defense. They saw nothing. Eventually, they convinced me that I gave him 300 TL (a 200 and a 100 note) and that the change he gave me was correct. Or more accurately, they convinced me to let it slide and just let it go. I could’ve given him 400 TL, I could’ve given him 300 TL. There was no way to prove it either way. So, I capitulated. I grabbed my cane and holding my wallet, I got out of the car. I took two steps onto the curb, closed the door, then froze.
I had a nagging feeling that I had left something in the taxi. I knew he was about to drive away with my 100 TL but there was something else I felt was missing. As I checked my pockets and my hands, I noticed that I did not have my hat. So I opened the car door once more. I looked around my seat for a few seconds but didn’t see the hat. If I had left it there, it would have been right there on the seat or the floor – and I would have seen it. I thought that maybe I had left the hat at home and closed the door again. Right after, the taxi drove away into the sea of other yellow taxi cabs.
About 2.9 seconds after the taxi blended into the taxi sea, disaster struck. I wish I had figured out about 3 seconds before I did. But, that nagging feeling wasn’t for naught. I indeed left something in that cab. I was now faced with spending the rest of the day, no the rest of this trip… without my phone. All my travel documents, all my trip files, the address to my AirBNB, the hundreds of pictures I took on this trip from Senegal and here in Turkey, the internet, my music, even three of my credit cards that I keep in the back of the phone for emergency purposes (for when I lose my wallet ironically) … all gone. My heart broke in two and became extremely heavy, my countenance changed from celebratory to panic and fear, my mind went racing a mile a minute, and I began the grieving process. Mostly I grieved for the many memories that were now lost forever. I could always get a new phone when I got back to the states, but my phone was not set to back up to the cloud. All of my memories were gone.
After standing on the curb frozen, stunned, like a 6-year old that just flushed his pet goldfish down the toilet, I sulked and limped to some chairs that were in front of the hotel the taxi dropped us off at. I sat there sulking at my misfortune while my family (specifically Suazette and Sariah) sprung into action to mitigate the damage. First thought was to track my phone since I always share my location. Except… my phone was on airplane mode since we landed so as to not be charged for roaming. The last time my phone pinged a signal was back at our AirBNB when I was still on WiFi. The next thing they thought to do was to play the Find My Iphone alarm. But again, it could not be tracked since my data wasn’t turned on (which means my phone would not ping).
At this point, I came to myself a bit and began to think logically. I wasn’t sure of the cab company’s name but if I could hail a cab, I’d ask them to call dispatch and let them put out an APB for my phone. Hopefully, they could get in contact with my driver. It was worth a try. I hailed about four cabs this way. I believe my plan was hindered by a language barrier with three of them (the 4th just had no interest in helping me at all). On to plan D. I pulled the phone number off of the side of a cab and went into the hotel lobby where I flagged the concierge. I explained my situation and asked him to call the cab company for me but he had no interest in helping either. He explained that they have their own car and driver service, so hotel guests have no need for taxis. He said I needed to go to the police station and file a complaint there. I left the hotel lobby, as dejected as ever.
I’m not sure if I hailed another cab (or the family hailed it) but eventually another cab stopped for us. The family explained to him what happened and the driver seemed to genuinely want to help. He showed the girls where the police station was. So, the girls crossed the street to begin their hike to the station to file a police report. On the way there, Suazette saw some cruise port workers and asked if they could show them where the police station was. One of the guys there spoke English and asked what assistance she needed. She explained the situation to them and they said that they could help. What Luck! The port worker called the cab company and spoke to someone in Turkish there. He explained to him what had happened and eventually was able to get an English speaker. The girls gave the operator as much information as they had and then waited.
After a few minutes, they had good news. The cab company was able to track down the driver, who at the time was over 45 minutes away. (I’m sure he would’ve been much further away if it wasn’t so much traffic.) The driver confirmed that he had found my phone and agreed to return it to us. I had no idea of these developments because I did not go with them towards the police station. I sat with the younger two kids right in front of the hotel where the concierge was so rude to me. Eventually, the sight of the curb where I shut the taxi’s door began to make me sick. I decided to go across the street for some fresh air and a change of scenery.
While loitering in front of a building I mistakenly thought was the art museum, Makayla’s phone rang. Sariah and Suazette had called to tell us that they got my phone and were en route back. This ordeal was expensive: it ultimately cost me an additional 700 TL because the girls had to pay for the driver’s time to return the phone. He was willing to return the phone without payment because there is some Turkish law requiring them to do just that but the port workers insisted that we pay for his time. I guess one hand greases the other but the ordeal was finally over. Sariah and Suazette forked over the 700 TL and headed to the museum where they would reunite with me. RJ, and Makayla. (Funny how I was up in arms over 100 TL but was perfectly fine spending 700 TL.)
This photo is the reason why I still have a phone. Sariah took this pic and was able to salvage the entitre trip… on her birthday, no less!
With all of the thousands of cabs on the street that day, how did we know which cab to contact? And what information were we able to provide so that they could track down the driver? Well, I tell you. Sariah is the superhero of this story. When I was going bezerk, she calmed me down and told me that we would get my phone back some way somehow. It turns out that she was the catalyst of the whole thing. Before getting into the cab, for some reason, she had taken a grainy picture of the cab that we were about to get in. She took a picture of the back of the cab so its license plate was visible. If you zoomed in, you could see the phone number for the cab company as well. This was the information that she and Suazette shared. No doubt without that picture, there would have been a zero percent chance of recovering the phone intact. On the day when I should’ve been covering her, my eldest daughter covered me. Trip Disaster Avoided! After leaving the house at noon and taking a 15 minute taxi ride, we were finally stepping into the art museum at 3:45pm, 2 hours before they closed at 6pm.
The museum was quite interesting. I’m not a big modern art guy but some of those art exhibits were… interesting to say the least. In addition, the museum had a lot of cool nautical exhibits. Lots of ropes, and pictures, boats, and submarine pictures. As a Navy guy, I really liked these exhibits. Right before we got kicked out, we rode the elevator up to the museum’s roof to enjoy the panoramic view of the Bosphorus. We snapped some photos up there then headed for the exits.
We left the museum and headed straight for dinner. (With all of the drama of the day, we barely ate anything.) I wanted to get some seafood so we decided to go to a place called “Galata Fish Mekan.” This place was in an area right near the museum that had a ton of restaurants and shops. Eventually, we found the fish restaurant but it was kind of small inside. We didn’t get a good vibe from that place anyway and ended up at a different restaurant that had some seafood offerings. We elected to sit inside the restaurant to avoid the ever-present Istanbul smoke. After dinner, we were greeted with a live music performance of some old American classics.
By 10:30, we had finished dinner when the Istanbul night owls were just about to come out and hang. But we couldn’t wait around for that. It had already been a long emotionally draining day. We headed home and got there about midnight. A long taxing day indeed.
Perhaps you think that nothing else could’ve possibly happened on this trip. If you think so, you’d be wrong. We still had two more full days in the city. And we had at least as many “situations” as days left.
Topkapi Palace
After leaving my phone in a cab and getting it back, (thanks to Sariah’s photo) we had had enough drama for the day. We did the museum thing, ate some food, and headed right back to our AirBNB. The next day, we decided to venture out once again. This time, we decided to go to Topkapi palace. As explained by Google, “from the 1460s to the completion of Dolmabahce Palace in 1856, [the palace] served as the administrative center of the Ottoman Empire, and it was the main residence of its sultans.” The palace grounds has the palace and surrounding gardens. We could have visited either the gardens, the structure, or both. But historical buildings is just not Suazette’s thing. So, we decided to only visit the gardens.
The Imperial Gardens were quite lovely. The Ottoman landscape architecture presented here is quite pleasing to the eye. Indeed, the gardens have all of the accoutrements you would expect for an emperor – everything including flowers, water features, coves, monuments celebrating military victories, and even a kids play area. We spent about 3 hours just walking around the garden, taking it easy, and enjoying the sights. RJ on the other hand spent much of his time running around and being eight. He even visited the play area where he met and played with some random kid named Mohammad. Mohammad didn’t speak English and RJ doesn’t speak Turkish. But that didn’t stop these two from playing like long friends. When we left the play area, Mohammad and his family followed us to a monument commemorating some military victory (I forgot which battle).
At the monument, the two kids used my translation app to talk to each other. Pleasantries were shared. I was impressed with how easily 8-year-olds can make friends. It just goes to show that the human spirit can overcome political, cultural, racial, and ethnic differences. When we finally left the gardens, Mohammad helped me down the hill. He literally took my hand, put it on his waist, and guided me down the steep, rocky, hill. We parted ways at the bottom of that hill more as friends than strangers.
When we left the gardens, we went back to our Beyoglu district. RJ played on a play area right in front of that art museum we visited the day before. After dinner, we headed home for the night.
Kadikoy and Sunset over Europe
The following day, we decided to visit Asia again. So, we headed to our Beyoglu tram station and walked to the ferry. Twenty minutes later, we landed back in the Kadikoy neighborhood on the Asian side. Our goal was to visit some of the markets on the Asian side and just take it easy again. I didn’t care what we did as long as we could catch the sunset there. We had several hours to kill and spent it just visiting the various stalls in the market. In my opinion, Kadikoy was a more civilized version of the spice and grand bazaars we visited on the European side, everything you needed could be purchased here too.
We ate lunch and dinner over in Kadikoy. The family also had some desserts from a random store they had found. I’m not a big sweets guy so I passed on that. I did however see a mini protest in the middle of the market. I was intrigued but as a tourist, I knew better than to participate in any protest. I just snapped a picture of this one guy who was clearly down for his cause and kept it pushing.
There are two things that have to happen whenever I go somewhere new. I have to find some water (river, lake, sea, ocean, pool, etc.) and I have to find a church. This trip was no different just because I was in a Muslim country. Despite Turkey being 95% Muslim now, I found a church in Kadikoy. Unfortunately, I got there about 4 minutes before it closed for the day. But I got my picture in front of it as proof. Visiting this church was my favorite part of Kadikoy (especially since I could not go in the former church Hagia Sophia) – well, that is until the sun set.
I strategically decided to view the sunset from the Asian side because the sun sets in the west. This means that I could see it over the Bosphorus with Europe in the background. We gathered at the harbor about 40 minutes before the sun was scheduled to set. Then. we watched as our star set in the evening sky. There wasn’t an explosion of colors like you’d expect to see with tropical sunsets. But seeing the sun’s golden rays shine on the river was just what I was looking for. I could finally check that off my list.
Shortly after the sun set, we caught the ferry back home. As we docked at Karokoy, we saw a picturesque lit up Blue Mosque - I took a picture that would become one of my favorites. Europe was jumping when we got back. We could’ve stayed and hung out a bit more but I was already satisfied with the day’s events. I didn’t need anything else. I did accept a serenade though, even though I stiffed the guy on a tip. (I truly didn’t have any Lyra and the price he quoted made me laugh.)
Even though we didn’t linger around, we didn’t get in our AirBNB until after midnight. This is because I convinced the family to take a different exit out of our train station (over RJ’s cries that it was the wrong one). We had taken that exit earlier in the week (when we didn’t know better) and it took 30 minutes to walk home. If we had taken our usual exit (RJ’s exit), we would’ve reached home in about 15 minutes. Well, halfway through the walk, Suazette decided to veer off to a different path. She claimed that her GPS said that it would be shorter. (Spoiler Alert: It wasn’t.). What should have taken us about 15 minutes took us about an hour.
Finally, we made it back at about 1am. It was at this time that we realized that our trip was quickly coming to an end. Indeed, our taxi was scheduled to pick us up and take us back to the airport by 11am. Alas, we needed to get some sleep because a long travel day was ahead of us. Good Bye Istanbul. It’s been real.
Leaving Istanbul
We have done a lot in these short two weeks. I’ve walked through our journey through four continents. We started in DC (North America – Continent 1), flew to Senegal (Africa – Continent 2), with a long layover in Madrid (Europe – Continent 3). After leaving Senegal, we flew back to Madrid. RJ and I took a direct flight to Istanbul (Europe) while the girls flew to Istanbul (Europe) via Frankfurt (Europe). While in Istanbul, we took a ferry twice to the Asian side of Istanbul (Continent 4). And it’s finally time to start thinking about coming home. After our long saga, it was time to make it back to the airport.
Our taxi picked us up at 11am and we had an uneventful ride to the airport. I suppose there were two noteworthy things about the ride. One – was how exhausted all of us looked (I don’t remember being as exhausted as we look). And two – I enjoyed the experience of riding backwards in the taxi. Yep, the front row of the cab going and coming was facing backwards, just like a jump seat on an airplane.
The airport was itself an experience. Similar to Senegal, we had about four or five document checks before we could check-in and proceed to the gates. But, since we had a couple of hours to kill before our flight, we decided to head to the lounge first. And what a lounge it was! The IGA Lounge was one of the largest lounges I had ever been to. Unlike the Club in Atlanta (which is tiny) or even the Centurion Lounge in Atlanta (which takes up a couple of gates in the E-Concourse), the IGA Lounge takes up the entire Mezzanine level of the IST airport. This lounge had everything including a pool table and a baby grand piano.
The food was pretty good (of course, most free food is) until it wasn’t. We almost had a medical emergency right before we had to get onboard – caused by said food. When I came back from the restroom, I noticed that Suazette was leading RJ around the buffet. RJ was in distress, holding his throat. I was a bit confused as to what was going on but it turns out RJ was choking. You know how you swallow a pill with water? Well, RJ wanted to know what it would be like to swallow an apple with water (just like a pill). So, he didn’t chew it; he just swallowed it. Yep, he did it to himself. As I watched my namesake suffering by a piece of fruit that was stuck horizontally in his throat, I felt helpless. (I had instant flashbacks of jumping in a deep, dark, murky pool in a Tennessee state park to save him from drowning when he was three.) Eventually, my parental instincts kicked in. I wasn’t helpless. It’s been decades since they taught me how to do the Heimlich in the Navy but I was mentally preparing myself to crack my kid’s ribs to save his life.
I had just a few minutes to act. The departures board said that our flight was actively boarding and we were at least 20 minutes from the gate. He was crying, holding his throat in obvious pain, but he was also breathing. So, I knew action wasn’t needed immediately. But the idea of traveling in a pressurized tube for 11 hours with an obstruction lodged in your throat didn’t sound like the safest option either. Perhaps immediate action was warranted after all. Do I seek help and risk missing all of our flights home? Or do I move now, make the flight, and land in America with a lifeless 8-year old kid? Neither option sounded good to me but I decided to err on the side of caution and to save my kid’s life … again. Right when I was about to start the procedure, I noticed his speech was better, a smile had crept onto his face, and he stopped holding his throat. Luckily, the apple that was lodged horizontally in his throat shifted a bit and began its natural decent into his stomach. By the time we reached the gate, he was his regular jovial self. Crisis averted! I still have fond memories of that lounge, even though RJ almost died on one of its apples. (Maybe next time we go to Istanbul, I’ll forbid him from eating fruit. Too much drama for one trip.)
With a little nourishment in our system and a medical scare behind us, we made our way to the gates where our chariot awaited to take us back across the pond. Ours was Turkish Flight 17, headed to … Toronto. Yes, I live in America, but why not add one more country to the list of destinations? (Why go straight home? What fun is that?) No really, why Toronto? If you recall, I had purchased a multi-city fare for the girl’s flight to Turkey. The ticket covered three legs: the first leg took them from Madrid to Frankfurt on Lufthansa. The second leg took them from Frankfurt to Istanbul also on Lufthansa. This is the last leg: it took them from Istanbul to Toronto on Turkish Airlines. So I didn’t need to pay anything extra to get the girls back across the pond. RJ and I were a different story altogether. Ours was a one-way direct flight from Madrid to Istanbul on Turkish so I still had to find a way to get the Raymonds back across the pond.
I wanted all of us to ride back on the same plane and I wanted to find the best (read: cheapest) way to also get on TL 17. I ended up with a decent option for me and RJ. Ultimately, I spent 88,000 United miles and $49.60 to buy two economy tickets on TL 17. With this purchase, I met both of my goals: the five of us were on the same plane heading west.
We landed late in Toronto, 8-9pm ish. After getting our bags, we waited for the hotel shuttle to take us to our hotel. It took a while but eventually it came and dropped us off. I had booked two rooms at the Hampton Inn Toronto airport. The first room was purchased using 32,000 Hilton points; the second room was purchased with $224.71 Canadian dollars. Breakfast was included in the price of the ticket but even if it wasn’t, I would’ve been able to buy something with my dining credit given to me for being a Hilton gold member. I made the most of our late checkout (also a benefit of being a Hilton Gold member) since our next flight wasn’t leaving until 4pm. Even getting in late, with a noon checkout, we had enough time to get a good night’s rest and be refreshed before heading back to the airport.
I had intentions of spending a few hours in Toronto but because of our late arrival, everything was closed by the time we got there. Besides, I had booked an airport hotel so we weren’t exactly close to anything of interest. Even though my plan to spend the day in Toronto fell through, there was no harm, no foul. We had spent a week in Toronto last January so we were familiar with the place already. We didn’t miss out on much.
If you are going to add another country, why not add another airline too right? (We could’ve taken a US airline but what’s the fun in that?) At the airport, we checked into our WestJet flight to … Nashville, TN. (Yes, I know I live in Atlanta, but what’s the fun in that?) As you may have noticed, I go where the deals are. And in this case, I spent 70,000 Flying Blue miles for five economy tickets to travel from Toronto to Nashville on West Jet 1428. We spent about 2.5 hours in Nashville before continuing on to Atlanta on Delta flight 1490/2689 (there was a number change and I don’t remember which is the most recent flight number).
And just like that, our trip was over. We landed in ATL about 7:30-8ish, grabbed our bags, grabbed a large Uber, and headed home. There was no rest for the weary. Early the next morning, I went and picked up Oreo (our family dog) from the kennel. For the next few days, we traveled all around the city going Back to School shopping. One week after landing back in Atlanta, we were back in school…and the grind continues.
So, what did we experience during this trip and what did it cost? We spent 863,000 miles and points across six airline and three hotel currencies. We spent 6,000 African francs, over 660 Canadian dollars, and nearly $1,250 American dollars in taxes and fees, excluding experiences, transportation, and food. We stayed in four hotels and two AirBNBs for nearly $1,380 and 153,000 points. We traveled on five airlines and visited six countries across four continents in 19 days. This was not my best redemption since I spent a bit of money for the AirBNBs but this was to ensure my family’s comfort. (If it were traveling alone, I would’ve spent my Hilton points and just “roughed” it with little out of pocket costs. Oh, the sacrifices we make…) Nevertheless, I think I did a pretty good job. I’ll take it.
