Turkey Trot

Istanbul at sunset

    I was ready for my trip to Turkey. I had read about Istanbul's history as the seat of the Eastern Roman Empire; the Byzantine Empire; and the Ottoman empire. I had watched Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey, I knew about the wine dark Aegean Sea. 

    Istanbul has had many different rulers. And now it is ruled by tourists. 

Hagia Sofia

    Fifty-six million tourists come to Turkey every year. And they all come to Sultanahmet, which, in easy walking distance has five of the most famous sites, the Hagia Sofia, the Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Palace, the Basilica Cistern, and a few marble columns from the Hippodrome.

Hagia Sofia, once a church, now a mosque

    Turkish universities offer a four-year degree in Tourism Guidance, with requirements in history, archeology, philosophy, geography and language. Turkey is the only country with a national licensing program for professional tour guides. 

The Bosphorus Strait, view from our hotel

    We stayed at The Witt Istanbul Suites, a boutique hotel in the Cihangir neighborhood, recommended by younger friends who advised against staying in the touristy “Golden Horn.”  Cihangir is considered bohemian, full of artists and actors. Our tour guide compared it to the West Village. But it was a far cry; the streets were full of rubble, crumbling sidewalks and abandoned properties. And the constant din of construction equipment and 21st century trucks trying to make U-turns on 19th century streets. 

Mosaics at Hagia Sofia

    Inside the Witt, life was peaceful and serene.  The hotel streamed a wonderful jazz station, so relaxing you could melt into your couch listening to Chet Baker. We had a king panoramic suite with a terrace over the Bosphoros Strait, which divides Asia and Europe. But unfortunately the Witt was at the top of steep, steep, hill, quite challenging after a full day of sightseeing. Instead of counting steps those days, we counted flights climbed… 30 stories one day and 21 another.

Basilica Cistern

Medusa head repurposed for the cistern

Rustem Pasha Mosque

    We had an aggressive tour guide in Sultanhamet who made sure we saw the highlights, even if it meant cutting lines and having loud arguments in Turkish. We started at the Rustem Pasha Mosque to see the spectacular blue mosaic tile work, because the more famous Blue Mosque was closed that morning. Then we were off to the astounding Hagia Sofia, and the Underground Cistern, featured in a scene in From Russia With Love. 

    After lunch, the Grand Bazaar. Yes, it covers 65 blocks and has 4000 shops, and was once the crown jewel on the Silk Road. But no, we don’t want to buy a Turkish rug or see how it’s made, or learn about how easily it can be shipped. And no, I don't like shopping under pressure from the shop owners. I prefer a store with minimal attention and no service, like Macy’s. (Well, maybe not that bad.)

Hamming it up in the Harem at the Topkapi Palace

    The next day we went to the Topkapi Palace, the seat of the Ottoman Empire and home to 20 sultans. Our Uber driver, who spoke no English, espoused the “Don’t’ Worry Be Happy” philosophy, and turned up the radio, encouraging us to dance in our seats. He must have said something in Turkish to the effect of “I’m going to drop you more than a mile from your destination,” because that’s what he did. He plopped us in Gulhane Park which made for a lovely, but quite long walk to the palace. 

    We were told to focus on the The Harem and  The Treasury. The harem alone was huge, with 400 terraces and wings. We saw the dorms for the Black eunuchs who managed the harem, a smoking room for the guards, elaborate plumbing for baths, the kitchen, the laundry room, and finally the suites where the “concubines” lived. 

Best view in the empire from sultan's residence, Topkapi Palace

    The Treasury was full of shining weapons and jewels but is best known as the sultan’s residence, with an audience room with a throne; and the sultan’s bedroom, designed with the best view in the kingdom of the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmara.

Istiklal Avenue

    Back in our hood that night with our calf muscles getting stronger by the minute, we discovered the “see and be seen scene,” Istiklal Avenue. The mile-long street is closed to cars and offers pedestrians a welcome respite from running for their lives to cross the street. Istiklal Avenue had international chains like Zara and Sephora, interspersed with uniquely Turkish stores selling hookah pipes; and had hundreds of cafes, from Irish Pubs to Italian brasseries. 

    I lined up a Turkish Bath at the Cukurcuma Hamani 1831 in our neighborhood.  The routine is first to bathe for 10 minutes from a basin of running hot and cold water. After this, the attendant gives you a head- to-toe scrubbing and then instructs you to lie down on a wet marble slab. There I was covered in a giant bubble of soap suds and given a short massage. After agreeing to having ice cold water poured over my head, I was sent to the relaxation room, served tea and snacks, and got a facial mask that felt like the consistency of Betty Crocker's Rich and Creamy vanilla frosting.

Sunset cruise on the Bosphorus

     We went on a lovely sunset Yacht Cruise along the Bosphorus where we were hastily served snacks which were just as hastily removed before we had finished. A tour guide sat lazily among the passengers, giving his entertaining spiel for the thousandth time. Outbound we focused on the European shoreline, filled with beautiful parks and Ottoman palaces turned into schools or hotels, and on the way back we focused on the Asian side, with its waterfront restaurants and opulent seaside residences. 

Ephesus

Terrace houses, Ephesus

     We flew the next day to Izmir to meet our guide Ibrahim for a tour of Ephesus, grander and more extensive than we'd expected. Ephesus spreads out on a large hill with government buildings at the top and residential neighborhoods below. Ibrahim pointed out a communal bathroom where lots of important business was conducted. “They put ducks, quack, quack, in the middle to cover up the sound of farting,” he said. Every archeological site has a story of thievery. Ibrahim showed us where the Temple of Artemis would have been had the British not carried it off to their museum. He also showed us where 30 marble columns once stood, but were ripped away during the Crusades. 

Country inn in Sirince

     That night we stayed at a country inn, Sirince Gullu Konaklari on a hillside high above the rich agricultural valleys. It was a quiet retreat and a good place to wash off the ancient and modern dust. 

     We drove two hours to the charming Village of Alacati where I had my first Turkish coffee. It seemed like a shortened espresso because you can only drink two thirds of the cup before encountering coffee grounds. It was a perfect complement to my snack, muhallebi, a chocolate covered vanilla custard atop a layer of pistachio.

Cesme, view from the Swissotel

Just me and the Aegean 

    I was determined to end our trip at the beach on the Aegean Sea even though it was well past resort season. We stayed at the Swissotel in Cesme.  There were so few people in the hotel on the night we arrived I called it The Shining on the Sea. We expected to see creepy twin girls and elevators full of blood. The hotel had a luxurious spa that made it all worth while, and I had a great reflexology session. The first day we had torrential rain (the same storm that caused deadly flooding in Istanbul) and the second day we had 40 MPH winds. We had the chance to see the Aegean stormy and aswirl, like Posiedon made it for Odysseus. 

Simit, kind of like bagels, kind of

    The food: When it came to Turkish cuisine I was at a disadvantage because I don’t like eggplant, which seems to be in everything.  There was a lot of meat, donor (like gyro), meatballs, kebabs. I liked pide, which is pizza-like. I ordered the four-cheese pide twice, so I had a total of eight cheeses. We also had gourmet dinner, a four-course tasting menu at Aheste restaurant in Istanbul. (Featured items, tuna with pomegranate sour mayo; and oxtail in a mushroom foam. Darr said it was like eating at The Bear. I find no delight in Turkish delight (a chewy, gummy-like candy covered in powdered sugar), but with its special focus on pistachios, Turkey may have the best baklava in the world. 

Baklava store on Isitklal

    The cats: They run free, they are fearless, they will jump up on your lap in restaurants and try to swat food out of your hand. They receive favored status in Turkey; there are “cat hotels” serving` kibble on many blocks. 

Cat helps tourist with map

Poseur with posters

La Jolla is Too Much

    

View from Coastal Walk

    La Jolla has too much of everything. Too much beautiful coastline. Too much nice weather. Too much lush vegetation. Too much year round recreation: surfing, kayaking, canoeing, hang gliding, sailing, running, swimming, parasailing, scuba diving, snorkeling, paddle boarding, whale watching, fishing, and  tennis. Too much fresh fish, boutique shopping, sweeping vistas, stunning sunsets. 

Lush life in La Jolla

       What's not to like? I have enjoyed the too-muchness of La Jolla for many years because Darr's brother Frank and his wife Jane had an open door policy for friends and family since they moved there in the 1960’s. 

Windansea Beach

I even love the bag

    We have certain routines there, we have a favorite walk from Jane's house to Windansea Beach; we eat at Old Town Mexican Café; and shop at my favorite store Bazaar del Mundo. We always get a quick fix of Mexican food at Don Bravo, and stand in line for pastries at Wayfarer Bread, both in walking distance. 

With Jane and mounds of cormorant poop

    Jane and Darr and I went on the La Jolla Coastal Walk Trail and talked about eau de bird poop. The cormorants have done a number (number two) on the cliffs and the pungency has made outdoor dining challenging. We shopped at Sea Salt, a pretty boutique with a $5 million view of La Jolla shores. We had lunch outside at the divine La Valencia Hotel. 

La Valencia Hotel

The Del Mar Thoroughbred Club  

Del Mar Racetrack

    The Del Mar Thoroughbred Club and Racetrack was built in 1936 when horse racing was second only to major league baseball in sports popularity. We had Clubhouse box seats in shade and an attentive waitress. The people-watching was almost as good as what was happening on the track. Men wore blazers over polo shirts but it being California chose sneakers instead of penny loafers. Women wore long sleeveless frocks and some sported fascinators, oddly out of place in the California sun. A man alone at a table near ours had a bottle of white wine and two appetizers, and then, like magic, a big bottle of bourbon and a bouquet of roses appeared on his table. We guessed that he was a winning horse owner. 

Racetrack fans

     Jane taught me how to place bets, what to look for in the horses, how to play the odds. I played it safe and came out ahead by $15.  Jane had more fun with her bets, choosing horses for their names like Nasty Habit and I’m a Bad Boy despite their poor odds. I had a little excitement with one horse I picked to win, Sweet Azteca who came in second, but shot up to first place because the two horse ahead of him had defaulted. The winner had caused the other to trip, which sent the jockey flying onto the track (he was all right). 

My lucky loser Sweet Azteca

 Catalina Island 

Santa Catalina harbor and monster cruise ship

    The day can be nicely divided into 90 minute chunks. We drove an hour and a half to Newport Beach, took the 90-minute ferry to Catalina Island, waited in line 90 minutes to get a golf cart to go on a 90- minute tour of the island, and spent the final 90 minutes addressing my urgent hanger at Avalon Grille followed by ice cream at Scoops Catalina Creamery. Rinse and repeat the cycle for the trip home. 

     Tip number one: if you are going to Catalina Island from La Jolla, spend the night. Packing it all into a single day was quite frankly…too much. 

With Jane and Darr on Avalon Canyon Drive

    Aboard the Catalina Flyer, we were tormented by a huckster who would try to sell you your shoes if they weren’t on your feet. He delighted in telling us that a cruise ship with 5000 passengers had just docked in Catalina, so everything touristy fun thing, especially the golf cart rentals would be sold out. Except...for some of his company’s special offers. With a combination of hard sell and striking FOMO into the hearts of the trapped ferry passengers he sold every ticket he had for tours on a glass bottom boat, and a submarine that doesn't submerge.

    Jane, a veteran visitor to Catalina warned us off these offers and told us the golf cart was the best way to see the island and would be worth the wait. Thankfully Darr volunteered to drive this gassy contraption. I got a little scared when he said the brakes didn’t work very well. 

Our golf cart driver

     Tip number two—don’t go to Catalina Island when a cruise ship is in port. 

    I hadn’t done any research on Catalina Island, it existed only as a gauzy image—a getaway for wealthy Los Angelinos and Hollywood celebrities, yacht-y, exclusive. So when we came in sight of a gigantic rock formation with cliffs, canyons and caves, I was shocked. 

     Santa Catalina Island (they dropped poor Santa) is 75 square miles, 22 miles long and 8 miles wide, with only one square mile of commercial development, the pretty seaport of Avalon, packed with tourists. 

     Tip number three—don’t go to Catalina Island in the summer. 

     Then it occurred to me, what were we doing traveling in the peak of summer? We didn’t have school age kids, we didn’t have teaching jobs that required us to be back by Labor Day. Darr reminded me that it was because we needed to get away from stinking hot swampy Bethesda. Oh right. 

La Jolla lushness

    We had also planned to go sailing with our dear Tucson friends David and Kacey who have a boat in the Chula Vista Marina, but our fearless captain David got sick. They hoped it would it not be too much to ask us to come back again and do it another time. 

    No, it would not be too much at all.

La Jolla succulent

Seized by Assisi

   

Piazza del Comune, Minerva's Temple 

     On my first afternoon in Assisi I was sitting in Piazza del Comune getting my bearings, when my son Franky announced that the bread there is stale and unsalted. Oh no! I had read in a guidebook about the dreaded pane sciocco and hoped to avoid it. The reasoning for the poor seasoning dates to the Middle Ages when there was a flap about salt taxes. In protest, the Umbrian bakers made bread without salt. 

     Otherwise my trip to Assisi was perfect. 

Saint Francis

     Although travel writer Rick Steves says “Assisi is worth a day and a night," Franky spent two and a half weeks there, my son Peter and his fiancé Nila spent 10 days, and I spent a week. The three of them are students of hagiography and particularly interested in the life of Saint Francis. St. Francis has broad appeal to believers and nonbelievers. He renounced his family riches, and was known for his deep compassion, humility, and love of nature and animals. 

Franciscan Friars

    There are several sites in Assisi where one can retrace St. Francis's footsteps.  In a sort of Christianity Carousel, we visited them over and over. Not only were they the most interesting sites in Assisi, they were often the coolest. The heat wave was very much alive in land-locked Assisi, with daily highs of 97 and cloudless skies. 

The Basilica of St. Francis

    

    The Basilica of St. Francis is a gorgeous piece of Gothic architecture commissioned by Pope Innocent in the 13th century four years after Francis died. Much of the artwork is by Giotto, considered Europe's first modern painter.  The Tomb of St. Francis on the lower level of the basilica is a wholly serene spot.

   Basilica di Santa Maria degli Angeli

    Basilica di Santa Maria degli Angeli (St. Mary of the Angels). This beautiful church houses the tiny Porziuncola Chapel, where Francis founded the Franciscan order.  

Basilica di Santa Chiara 

    Basilica di Santa Chiara (St. Clare) Francis’ friend Clare also renounced her family wealth and became the mother superior of an order of nuns called the Poor Clares. 

 Santuario San Damiano

    Santuario San Damiano This served for many years as the convent for the Poor Clares and its garden is where Francis wrote the Canticle of the Creatures. 

Peter and Nila  Eremo delle Carceri 

Franky Eremo delle Carceri 

    Eremo delle Carceri (Hermitage) Before I arrived, Peter and Nila and Franky had hiked the steep three-miles to the hermitage at Mount Subasio, but during my visit we took taxis. Eremo delle Carceri felt like a beautiful national park with spirituality in the air. There are shaded walkways and trails and vivid vistas of the valley. 

Piazza di Santa Clara

Umbrian Valley 

    Just outside the Basilica de Santa Chiara is an elevated square with a grand view of the Umbrian valley with its neat farmland, olive groves, and cypress trees. Assisi is a beautifully maintained Medieval city.

Leaving the City Walls

     Hotel il Palazzo may have started as a palace, but it was missing a key regal touch, a coffee maker in the room. This was my penance. I had to wait until 7:30 for the breakfast room to open. Once when I woke up at 4:15 a.m. I found myself wandering the medieval streets in search of coffee to no avail, the espresso machines stood cold and closed. My hotel mercifully was air conditioned, a rare commodity in Assisi. Peter and Franky and Nila stayed in Monastero Santa Colette without air conditioning which was their penance. 

Basilica of St. Francis

    Mangia! My travel mates are vegetarians so I followed suit. Oddly I had no craving for porcetta sandwiches, wild boar, pigeon, or rabbit. This meant a limited choice for our lunchtime torta—mostly mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and argh, arugula. One day I thought I was getting spinach in my torta but it was argh, arugula. 

St. Francis and the wolf

    We had our best lunch at Chiosco Vamos in a shady grove preceded by a steep hill. When I asked for potato chips the owner made me French fries served with ketchup and mayo! This place is a gem, and hard to find on the internet.

Ristorante il Frantoio 

Sauteed zucchini, olive oil bechamel, mint pesto

Ristorante il Frantoio
 Juniper-infused, osmotized watermelon, almond cheese, gazpacho, etc

    Dinner offered more variety. My travelmates had been defaulting to quick dinners in the main piazza where an electric guitarist was nightly slaughtering “Halleluja.” We ate at several spots there including Ristorante Il Tempio di Minerva, Bar Trovellesi, and Keramos where Franky had "cannelloni,"served crunchy, fried, and delicious. I tried to upgrade our restaurant outings but that meant waiting until 7:30 or 8 p.m. to eat dinner which was hard for the jet-lagged, almost as hard as waiting until 7:30 a.m. for coffee…Our best dinner was at Ristorante il Frantoio which was a gourmet delight in an elegant setting with a panoramic terrace. It was at La Lanterna that I admitted I didn't like the pizza in Assisi and think that Cheeseboard in Berekeley does a much better job. But the pasta, oh my, is always perfect. I asked why I can't duplicate it at home and they said "different soil, different grain, different water and different sun."

    

Gelateria Leccapaletta

    On the question of dessert there was no controversy, we always went to Gelateria Leccapaletta. OMG they serve the very concentrate of your flavor selection. Coconut gelato tasted like it had just been scooped out of the coconut; chocolate was the essense of chocolate in its purest form: artificial flavoring was one million miles away. We got to the point where we didn’t ask if we were going, just when we were going. Sometimes we went before dinner. 

    The minute I left the sainted city of Assisi, my luck turned and I fell into the proverbial Devil’s Hole (a site at Eremo).  I had booked a first class train ticket expecting coffee service. There was none. When I arrived at Roma Termini after five hours without caffeine I stumbled into the station like a monster just woken from the dead. Praise god Italy is very accommodating to the caff-fiend.

Rome Marriott "Park" Hotel

     Then on the way to the airport United Airlines sent word that my 2:30 p.m. flight had been cancelled, followed quickly by “good news, your flight has been rebooked.” Rebooked that is for the next day, 18 hours after I arrived at the airport. United agents herded me and the 50 other “cancelled” passengers to a small area to wait two hours for an un-airconditioned bus to take us to Rome Marriott Park Hotel in the middle of nowhere. As we rushed the registration desk, the Marriott staff said they weren’t expecting us, so to sit back down until they found us rooms. I don't know why they call it a park hotel, the only plant I saw nearby was one belonging to Toyota. 

     Back in Washington as I was going through customs, I saw a woman wearing a T-shirt reading “No crying on the yacht.”  How far I had come from the world of asceticism.

Until next time