Istanbul is on the Golden Horn, a fresh-water estuary. Until now, I haven’t been very clear about how often we are surrounded by water.
Here is Joe, proving that indeed, there is water, water everywhere.
Pre-American coffee, I’m still half asleep.
I need about four or five Turkish coffees to get going.
Joe’s first fresh figs were tasteless, but I think it was just a bad batch.
Under construction, a spire near the Grand Bazaar.
Here I am under what looks like an old synagogue from the Jewish stars displayed on the top of the building. According to our guidebook, which is arguably untrustworthy, there are about 24,000 Jewish people in Istanbul. This synagogue seems to have been turned into a lamb restaurant, which seems a bit un-halachic. Shout out to Sultan Beyazit II, who welcomed the Jews expelled by the Spanish Inquisition. Thanks, B II!
The University, where women in head scarves are not allowed to study. Sounds like secularism as a form of religious persecution, but I’m just an opinionated American tourist.
We are here.
At the end of the day, what better way to enjoy Turkish culture than to go bowling!
We bowled five games.
Bowling is an acceptable activity for women in head scarves.
Joe won all five.
But once I got the hang of it, I gave him a run for his money.
With a little help from the lucky green ball and a couple beers to lose my bowling inhibitions, I was rocking our lane.
Prostrating for the pins.
This is only a recap of three out of the five games. I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun bowling.
I love the Turkish night life!