True Blue...Bosphorus

I thought that I must write a year end post on the awesome holiday we had this year at Turkey. I know it lasted just ten days and it did mop up quite a bit of our savings but it has left us behind with the most amazing of memories.

Write since my childhood I had coloured the sky as light blue and the sea as a darker blue in painting class. As I grew up I saw that the sky could still be blue. Except the older I grew the more I spent 'blue sky' hours indoors in offices. And the blue sea? That largely remained a myth. The sea in Mumbai is grey. The one at Goa borders on grey. The river in Kolkata? grey again.

Then I went to Istanbul, the city of the Bosphorus and the Marmara. We could see a glimpse of the sea from our room at the Marmara Palace hotel. Electric blue.

We of course did the customary Bosphorus cruise. This was a dream like experience. I am yet to see the 'Blue Danube' but here the waters were blue enough to make me compose symphonies. We passed by lovely villas, the super expensive Kempinski hotel which is a converted palace, castles, the Blue Mosque and other monuments, the military school where General Musharaf of Pakistan had studied. These were some of the most beautiful sites that one had ever seen. And the breeze? Pure unadulterated Ozone. One felt so far removed from the grime of one's daily grind. It did to my spirit what rounds of botox couldn't do to a rich dowager.

It was definitely one of the most memorable moments of a holiday filled with memorable moments.

Traveller's notes:

• You do get night cruises but they defeat the purpose because you will be unable to see much
• The Bosphorus cruise ends at a place called Eminonu which is the tram stop for the Spice Market. You can leave the tour here and spend time here as you get much better deals here than at the more popular Grand Bazar.
• A Bosphorus cruise is a visual delight. The quality of the guide doesn't really matter. Ours occasionally droned out something perfunctorily while reading the newspaper, speaking on the mobile, snapping at passengers and scratching his head at the captain's deck

The hysterical Cemberlitas Hamam

I didn’t know much about Turkey till I went there. The Turkish Hamams were an exception. In retrospect I had ‘heard’ about them but didn’t ‘know’ about them.

I had visions of an exotic, relaxing, unwinding experience. What I experienced was jarring, unsettling and disturbing. Lonely Planet did say that one must experience a hamam though they warned that many today were tourist traps.


We had gone to the Cemberlatis Hamam near the Blue Mosque at Istanbul. This was recommended by our local travel agent and Lonely Planet. Its call to fame was that it was designed by Sinan, the architect of the Blue Mosque, and was around four hundred years old.

I went in for the ‘luxury package’ hamam, soap scrub and oil massage which was 80 liras or 40 euros per person. Kainaz did suggest going for the basic package in case we didn’t like it. She was right. We should have done that.

You expect a certain amount of finesse, luxury and hospitality when you are paying 40 euros or Rs 2400. Especially in Turkey where one got used to experiencing the same.

Well, here’s what happened. I entered the large . I was directed to a changing room where I was given a towel and two tokens. I wrapped the towel around me and walked tentatively back into the lobby. Someone then directed me to another room. Here I saw there was a round marble platform with a few vessels lying there. A few people were lying on th platform. One or two were getting massaged. And there were a few like me who were walking around with disturbed looks. By then I knew I was not getting my moneys both. The surroundings were damp and looked 400 years old. I could see soot in the grills when I looked up at the dome like ceiling. I did not feel good or relaxed. A far cry from, say, the Thai massage parlours.

Then a man with a towel around his waist appeared and asked me though gestures to lie down on the platform and to rest my head on an aluminium cup. He then gave me a cursory, painful rub over, which passed off for a massage. He nexttook a loofa, worked up a soap lather on me, took me to a tap and asked me to clean up. He then looked at me, smiled, winked and said “massage good? Service! Service!”. This was the only time in Turkey that someone openly asked us for tips.

He then pushed me into another room which turned out to be the oil massage room. This was the only redeeming feature of the experience and contributed to 50% of the cost. The massage was good but I was too tense to enjoy it. In fact he even asked me to relax a couple of times. He was the only one who spoke English. Though I seriously doubt whether it lasted 30 minutes. The room was clean but didn’t really give you a good feeling.

Next stop was the shower cubicle where I went and had a shower and then came out in a wet towel wondering what to do next. I stepped out into the lobby when one man took me back in, put towels around my head, torso and waist and sent me to the changing room.

I then waited for Kainaz. She came out from the women’s section a few minutes later and looked shell shocked. She hated it as much and more. She said the women’s section was even worse. It had no shower cubicle, no soap, no changing rooms, no one to wrap you in towels at the end. She too said that the oil massage was the only redeeming feature but was nothing unique. Her ‘soap massage’ in the hamam was quite surreal though. I was recently reading a new Bond book set in the seventies which speaks of a hamam in Iran with scantily clad women doing the massages. Seems it was pretty much the same in the women’s section. Except the women were of the same seventies vintage…so you had grandmas in granny panties. 'Bizarre' was how Kainaz described it.

To add insult to injury Kainaz picked the tab AND lost her fairly expensive glares there.

The hamam left us dazed and confused. Well not really – we are pretty clear that we will never recommend it to anyone.

Notes

• Avoid this
• If you want to feel relaxed take the Bosporus cruise or have an apple tea in a local cafe
• The prices change and the next day what we paid seventy for was 80 liras

Hips don't lie: Turkish belly dance

We wanted to do something special for our anniversary dinner. Arvind and Dilber of Faraway Travels, our travel agents in India, suggested that we have dinner at the Keravan Serai. Dilber also said they have Turkey’s highest paid belly dancer there. Belly dancer?! You need to have a fairly sporting wife to go there for your anniversary.

Well we did go there on the 22nd of October, our anniversary, and had a fairly majestic experience straight out of an Ottoman sultan’s court.

The place was packed, largely with tour groups from across the world. In fact, we saw quite a few Indians for the first time in our holiday at Turkey. Thomas Cook, SOTC, Kuoni, all the usual suspects were there.

While most were sitting on common tables our travel agent had got Kainaz and me a cosy table for two where he had quite a romantic candle light dinner.

The belly dancers were quite awesome. Their moves defied the laws of gravity, biology and physics. They were quite artistic and heady. They were anything but raunchy. In fact rhythmic and exotic are words I would use. And I must say that I am not writing this to be politically correct or because, more importantly, Kainaz would be reading this. They were genuinely graceful and I really felt like I was sitting in an Ottoman court and enjoying it. Just to highlight the point it would be a polar opposite, pun intended, to pole dances or Bollywood item numbers. Quite poetic. All right, all right most of the dancers were quite pleasing on the eye too :) The ‘highest paid’ belly dancer of Turkey (in the picture below) did live up to her star billing.

It was amusing to see some of our fellow Indians watch the dancers with their mouth open. Their wives steadfastly looked down at their plates. Quite different from Bharat Natyam and Kathakali.


The belly dances were interspersed with Turkish folk shows like Caucasian dances, gypsy sword throwers and so on. They were nice though I am sure the audience’s heart wasn’t in this.

The second half of the show saw one of the most talented performers that we had ever seen. I think Arvind had told us about him. This person was a linguist, singer, dancer, comedian rolled in one…a vaudeville artist who would probably give the best in Broadway or West End a run for their money. He would ask people which country they had come from and speak to them and sing in their native language. Indian (awara hoon), Mexican, Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Australian, American, British, Brazilian, Persian, Russian …nothing stumped him. He would respond instantly. He had a good voice too and really got the audience involved.

I am being very honest here when I say that he left a greater impression on us than the belly dancers!

The food? We had quite a nice fare. A bottle of red wine which Kainaz tried out too though she is not much of a wine drinker. A prawn cocktail like fish dish topped with caviar, mint flavoured paneer samosas (!), roast lamb with mashed potato, lovely breads and fruit salad.

A most memorable anniversary dinner.

Some of the other anniversary dinners over the years which I remember include the basement English Pub at Glennaries Darjeeling (we later got locked out of our hotel as were late and froze outside), Sunderban Tiger Camp, Sadri’s Malaysian fish at Langkawi (and our sad faces when we saw the price) and the continental place at Pattaya where we had some lovely risotto and pasta.

Traveller’s notes:

- There are other shows in Istanbul. One is called Sultana, 1001 nights. I’d strongly recommend Keravan Serai as it is quite well rounded
- The listed cost is 70 euros per head if you land up by yourself. Our travel agent got it at 40 euros per head. This includes a drop from the hotel, food and alcohol
- Menu is fixed though differs from group to group. I saw that those in the Indian tour groups had salads, mezze, shaslik. They also have vegetarian options
- Alcohol is sufficient, though not unlimited. My definition of sufficient is two glasses per person
Duration: You are picked at 8PM and dropped back at 11PM. Show is for around 2 hrs
- This is close to Taksim

Eat in peace at Istanbul

Indians love to travel. Indian tourists form a sizeable chunk of tourists worldwide these days. One area where many face a problem though is when it comes to food. Some typical problems are:

- Where to get vegetarian food?
- How does one avoid meats like beef or pork which are taboos for Many Hindus and Muslims?
- How does one get used to sharp and alien tastes, food textures, smells?

The preferred antidote to this are packaged tours. The deal is that you get Indian meals every day cooked by Indian chefs who go along with the group. Doesn’t make sense to people like me who love to try out new dishes. I do understand that religious taboos could be a constraint for some who might be open to trying out new cuisines. Well, at least Turkey or Istanbul won’t be a problem for them.

The concept of ‘vegetarianism’ is quite understood there. The moment the heard that we were Indian or Hindistani they would offer us vegetarian options. And here I am speaking of the basic delis and not the up market restaurants. I remember once someone was asking a cart lady at the Sum Lum night market in Bangkok whether a dish was vegetarian and all she got in reply was ‘no pork’. That is unlikely to happen in Istanbul.



You also get a range of vegetarian dishes made with chick peas, kidney beans, beans and of course the ubiquitous green salads. I do not understand vegetarians and share Anthony Bourdain’s impatience with them. Still, I thought I must make this point for those who would like to travel by themselves but join the packaged tour circus of food fears.

The restaurant folks will even tell you what meat has been used. Chicken is obvious. But there are people who don’t eat beef for example. In Istanbul they will tell you whether it is mutton or beef or the more rare pork.

I remember that we had once ordered ‘kokerece (?)’ which was a dish made with intestines. This was in a restaurant in upscale Cisek Padesi. The waiter checked with us at least thrice before finally asking whether we had sany idea what we were ordering. We had to spend some time assuring him that we know and like our organs. Thank God that we convinced him as this chilly powder based, buttery, dish was heavenly and quite unique from most of the fare there.




For breakfast you won’t get the Indian dosas, idlis and parathas which you get in the Far East. But you do get loads of bread, an unbelievable array of cheese which I stuffed myself with every morning, salads, cereals, fruits, the works and of course cold cuts and eggs.




A lot of the dishes have fried onion, tomato, red chillies, Indian spices and the taste is different without being miles apart from (North) Indian food. You also get local breads which are similar to tandoori rotis, naans, parathas (called pide there) and rumali rotis. So you won’t miss home food as much as if you were depending on Chinese noodle soups, Thai coconut milk and fish oil based curries, bland fish and chips or Italian cheese and tomato dumps.

So drop your inhibitions and explore Istanbul. You won’t regret it.

if nothing else you have the American saviours there in most tourist spots. I am not sepaking of Rambo or Obama but of the fast food joints. Mc Donalds (apprently more popular than Mc Cain), Burger King, Starbucks, KFC... name it and its there.

You can read more on restaurants in turkey in my food blog, finely chopped.

Notes;

1. The beauty at the top of the post is a lovely mutton kaba dish that I had the day we landed

2. The average price for a dinner for two in a street deli costs about 15 Turkish Lira or 8-10 euros

3. Most meals are served with complimentary bread, rice. So unlike in India you don't have to order rice or bread separately with the main dish

4. Try the local butter milk which is called Ayran very similar to lassi

5. Curd is quite popular in Turkey and you can get pachaged curds to go with your meals

6. Cheese is called 'peynir' but is rarely like the Indian 'paneer'

7. Turkey is big in fried, roasted chillies. These are served with kebabs but you can ask for it separately too. They are not very hot though

A Tale of two cities: Istanbul and Kolkata

I must confess I did not know much about Turkey or Istanbul before I went there.

A colleague suggested that I take Orhan Pamuk’s ‘Istanbul - Memories and the city’ just before I left.

I hadn’t heard of Orhan Pamuk before. He is a Turkish writer who won the Nobel Prize in literature recently. I bought the book from Crossword and started reading it at the airport.

Frankly I couldn’t relate to what he had written as I began to explore Istanbul. He had written about the filth, sense of melancholy (huzun), poverty, ruined buildings, drab clothes and pained faces.

The Istanbul that I saw (Taksim and Sultanhmet) were the same areas that he had grown up in and written about. What I saw was a city full of vibrant people, walking purposefully, often dressed like super models. I saw elegant, restored buildings. We saw well preserved and well lit up monuments. People who were bright and friendly, hardly depressed or repressed. Roads were clean and yet had a character unlike antiseptic Singapore.

Towards the end of the book Pamuk reveals his first heart break. That made sense. That could have coloured his mind and his world view. We often remember cities through our memories.

Pamuk’s argument was that the Turk’s more or less lorded over the world under the Ottomans. They did not take well to their fall from power after the Ottoman empire collapsed and the Republic was set up. He also wrote about how, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, led a Westernisation drive for them to move away from the past.

Istanbul must have seen some big changes in recent years as it was quite different from the Istanbul of the fifties to the seventies that Pamuk writes about. Perhaps the Euro Cup which they hosted helped. The government must have led this drive. One could sense the government everywhere in forms of uniformed policemen with machine guns, police vans patrolling the roads or even the mechanized road cleaners.

This set me thinking about my home city of Kolkata. Kolkata was called Calcutta and was the capital of India in the first part of the British rule. Most of the early thinkers, politicians, businessmen, cinema celebrities, writers, poets, most of India's Nobel prize winners, the best academic institutions et al were from here.

Then the capital shifted to Delhi in the beginiing of the twentieth century. Later Kolkata was swamped with refugees from Bangladesh twice (1947, 1970) – during the partition and during Bangladesh’s independence movement. The communists won the local elections and have ruled the state for more than thirty years now. The city buckled under the pressure and just caved in. Despair, ruins, poverty, meleancholy were the order of the day. Since then the city seemed to live more on its past glory and seemed to turn its face away from its ugly present. People would speak longingly of the British. The British prime minister, John Major’s visit in the nineties was seen as its route to deliverance. That didn’t happen of course and other Indian cities such as Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore left Calcutta behind in terms of liveliness and growth.

Then, like Ataturk propounded in his Westernisation drive, Kolkata too seemed to turn its back on its past in a desperate attempt to ape cities like Mumbai. That was roughly when I left the city (1998).

I see quite a resurgence when I go home to Kolkata these days – splendid flyovers, spurt of Bengali restaurants with Bengali food no longer being considered uncool, new housing properties, an acceptance of Bengali culture with clothes like kurtas in traditional designs, Bengali rock bands and so on getting popular.

Yet the differences are not as stark as what I saw in Istanbul now verus what Pamuk had written about it. I wonder what that sort of transformation would take… enlightened citizens? Administrative will? Or is it something more dramatic ?!