Day 3: Oct 10th Boat Trip on the Bosphorus

 The Bosphorus is a narrow strait a few miles wide that separates Europe from Asia. It divides Istanbul into two halves, and is a busy waterway connecting the Aegean, part of the Mediterranean, with the Black Sea. 

The boat trip sets off from an inlet of the Bosphorus called the Golden Horn. Straight away we can see how close the Asian shore is.

Our boat has seen better days, but chugs manfully off the pier, belching fumes. It’s a pretty view as we pull away.

We approach and pass a couple of moored cruise liners. Whilst bringing trade to sightseeing venues, they also bring the  problem of vast hordes of trippers emerging at the same time  and swamping the venues and all allied facilities like shops, cafes, toilets etc. Still, they look serene and majestic at anchor and, of course, we’re trippers too so shouldn’t complain.

Lots of sights on the waterway, like this palace, the Dolmabahçe Palace, built in the 19^th century for the 31^st sultan Abdulmecid. At the time, it cost the equivalent £2.5 billion: it wasn’t on our tour itinerary but is described as the last word in opulence.

And now a beautiful baroque style waterside mosque in the late afternoon sunlight, built in 1853 so not as old as it looks.

Turkey has some world class bridges. This one crosses the Bosphorus and was the world’s 5^th longest suspension bridge when opened in 1988.

Our boat need to be careful, this is a busy trade route and we wouldn’t want to collide with something this size.

We’re turning round now to return to the starting point, passing wealthy owners’ waterside properties. The light is fading into dusk, but that gives a last chance for a silhouette shot of old Istanbul, trying not to include any crane jibs. A very relaxing afternoon.

Day 3: Fri 10th Oct. More Istanbul

 8:30am sharp on the bus. We’re starting at the Spice Bazaar where tour guide Ali says the best Turkish delight is to be found. It looks very much like the Grand Bazaar, perhaps more elegant.

We’re led into an appropriate shop and given samples to try . We aren’t keen on the Turkish delight you get in the UK, but this is delicious so we buy some, as do most of the tour group. Can’t get over how much the shop proprietor looks like Ali – they could be brothers!

Carrying on round the bazaar, I think it’s more interesting than the Grand Bazaar. Look at all these loofahs for example.

And now numerous brass and copper pots hanging from the ceiling, all guaranteed to produce a genie when rubbed - but only after you get home!

After the bazaar, the bus heads for the Topkapi Palace, a vast building that housed the sultan and his entourage until the Turkish Republic came into being in 1923. It was built in the late 15^th century by Sultan Mehemed II who had conquered Constantinople, as it was then called. Here’s the entrance, straight out of Disney.

The entrance portal itself merits a closer look with its fine marble and Ottoman style script.

First port of call within the palace houses is the china collection. The cup – or is it a small bowl – is amazingly ornate but entirely impractical. Most of the numerous exhibits could be similarly described.

Now the ante-room to the armoury. The tilework detail is amazing as testimony to the wealth and power of the sultans.

The ceiling is even more stunning. They must have spent a lot of time lying on the floor.

The armoury itself contains a variety of ancient weapons, mostly quite similar to European types. These rifles are ornamented flintlocks, purely for ceremonial use.

 This is Turkish chain mail, given an individual look with the pointed helmets.

Moving on to the guards quarters, in fact where they slept, on these platforms. The palace guards were an elite corps chosen for their physique.

 Now, getting closer to the harem, come the quarters of the black eunuchs whose job it was to run the harem. Theirs was a valued and responsible job.

In 1923 when the Turkish Republic was founded the Sultan was turfed out and all the palaces closed so the eunuchs were out of work. They founded a self-help group known as the “Harem Eunuchs Mutual Assistance Society” which ended in the 1950s when the last ones died out. 

And this is where some of the Harem slept. There were so many different levels of inmate and consequent living conditions that it’s impossible to generalise: some had incredibly pampered lives whilst others perished due to neglect.

These shoes would have been worn by a favoured concubine.

Now what did the sultans wear? Example: a robe of gold thread, of ample proportions.

With matching boots, of course.

And a smart uniform for parade day. However, it looks nowhere near generous enough and was no doubt an officer’s gear of around the mid 19^th century not a lot different to our own military garb of that era.

We leave Topkapi through the audience room. All rulers need to be respected,  revered and consulted.

We could have spent the whole week in the palace and didn’t see all of it, but we’re on the move again: First lunch, then the boat trip.

  

Turkey : October 2025

 Start: Wednesday 8^th Oct

This is a Saga holiday, a tour of historic sites in western Turkey, operated by  Titan Travel that is owned by Saga. 

We normally organise our own holiday so it’s a weight off our shoulders that it’s all laid on. Saga’s pick-up arrives to take us to Heathrow at 4:45 am on the dot so we’re there well before our 10:35 am flight to Istanbul. 

We enjoy a good flight with BA, and we’re met on arrival by our tour guide, Ali. Ali is Turkish and speaks excellent English. He welcomes other tour members as they arrive in the Titan assembly area. Soon all 26 of us are checked in and we follow Ali to the tour bus, a modern air-con coach. 

It’s late afternoon as the coach sets out for our hotel in the old quarter of Istanbul, the European part of the city: the Asian part lies across the narrow Bosphorus strait.  Ali warns us of heavy traffic, so we can expect a couple of hours ride to cover the 30 miles. But no worries for us passengers - that’s our driver Hussein’s problem. 

The journey progresses as forecast and it’s 7:00 pm and dark when Ali informs us we’re nearly there. Hussein expertly drives the big coach through the narrow sloping streets on this final leg. 

Ali’s on the phone, and straight after makes an announcement, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s a problem. I just phoned our hotel and, er, we aren’t actually booked in. And they’re full….this has never happened before in my 26 years as a tour guide….we’re working on finding an alternative….”  Well, perhaps we should have made our own arrangements! 

Ali has quickly organised dinner at a local restaurant to give himself time to sort things out. More narrow streets, but good service and food when we get there, and a happier mood after eating and a few drinks. Quick photo below of the restaurant shows it’s quite plush, although the local diner’s expression suggests his kebabs are repeating on him.

In the background can be seen, just about, the street band playing vigorously. All band members seemed to be playing from different pieces of music judging by the discordant result, and I wondered initially if they were snake charmers. If so, the snake wisely stayed in its box. 

Good news! Towards the end of the meal, Ali proclaimed we had been upgraded to a 5 star hotel as recompense. In fact, all our hotels would now be 5 star as a goodwill gesture. Here, we actually had a suite of two rooms with a marble bathroom, shown in the second photo. The shower, at the far end, was itself a marble room with heated floor and walls, a sort of Turkish bath. Impressive, but overkill if you just wanted a quick shower.

Cartagena

 Cartagena was Hannibal’s headquarters in Spain, named after his capital Carthage in north Africa. We drove the 10 miles or so to the city, as we usually do when we stay in this area. 

Today, it’s a first time visit to the naval museum on the quayside. By chance, the museum’s first exhibits carry on with the frogman theme from the previous blog. However impractical climbing a mountain in scuba kit would seem, with this gear on, as shown in the next photo, it would clearly be impossible. However, he looks rather cute, like those free plastic toys you used to get in cornflakes packets.

Now comes the practical world of de-compression chambers. These reverse the potentially lethal effect of “the bends”: nitrogen bubbles in the blood caused by a diver surfacing too quickly. The chamber reapplies deep water pressure and slowly reduces it as if the diver had come up more slowly. The photo shows two early examples, the first one of which seems self explanatory with a bench inside for the divers to sit while they de-pressurise. However, with the second one, the ailing diver is now forced into this narrow, tapering tube and then a lid affixed so that the pressure treatment can be applied. But what if he’s chubby, or claustrophobic? The upside is, if the treatment didn’t work, it’s a ready-made burial kit. 

Still in the underwater section, a happier tableau – the regimental band’s music and instruments. It does begs practical questions like, how do you play, say, a clarinet under water or stop fish swimming up the end and spoiling the tune? However, maybe you could manage drumming in the cornflakes packet divers suit shown previously.

Coming up to the water surface we arrive at the early torpedoes. Most striking is this beautifully shiny copper casing that you’d definitely need a BA (Brasso) for these day. 

In the next section are lots of model ships, beautifully made, although it must be said that the first vessel’s sails seem to have be made from the model maker’s wife’s underwear.

So this is what a sailor in Christopher Columbus’ time would be wearing. It also serves as a Morris dancing outfit.

On the way out we pass an amazingly artistic column of rope work, all rope, apart from the wooden support column.

The museum exit decants us onto the harbour front where the cruise ships dock. These are monsters, today’s arrival is the Aida Cosmo in the photo which carries up to 5,000 passengers and 1,500 crew.

No sooner are we in the city centre, two minutes walk from the harbour, when we hear marching drum-beats: another parade, this time it’s a legion of Roman soldiers. This is most appropriate as Cartagena was an important Roman city with a large theatre. The legion marches around the city in immaculate Roman attire (or so we onlookers believe) for most of the few hours that we are here, 

The centre is fully pedestrianised and very elegant, with shops and café-lined squares charging just normal prices. Here’s one such square.

We leave the centre heading for the harbour again where we’ve parked in the underground carpark. Glancing back towards the city, the traffic-free, tiled entrance maintains its classy, stylish image. 

April in Mazarron

We’re at our destination campsite, Los Madriles, where we first came in 2007. Practically all of the surrounding area has been described in past blogs, so this is a compilation of odds and ends that haven’t featured previously. 

Climate change is now evident here too. Historically, this is one of Europe’s driest areas, averaging 8” of rain a year (200mm).The driest is 50 miles down the coast, where 4” is the average, and is classed as desert. But it’s changing, and there are many more spring flowers this year. This photo is of the path down to the beach.

Next example is from the rambla (dry river bed) near the campsite, that is  now a carpet of yellow flowers. However, In the 19^th century there was more rain and this same rambla supplied enough running water to power a flour mill, the remains of which are still visible, also the hillsides retain traces of ancient terracing where crops once grew. 

But all is not well in Paradise: there has been a steady increase each year in the number of wild campers. These are motorhomers who park long-term in places that are not campsites, so cost nothing, generally at local beauty spots. What’s the harm, you might say, and maybe for overnighting and on the move, why not. However, for longer stays, disposal of rubbish and toilet emptying is certainly an issue, as is claiming a lovely area and turning it into something resembling a refugee camp.

 The photo shows our nearest beach access trail having been “appropriated”. Please note that these aren’t homeless people or folks on a slender budget, the motorhomes referred to are generally newish and costing around £80,000. None of these units are so dilapidated or unsafe as to be turned away at a regular campsite.

Half a mile on from the wild camp settlement, near our campsite entrance, is a field. A ploughed field. Every year it’s the same, a freshly ploughed field, with nothing ever planted or growing in it. The photo shows how difficult it would be to grow anything in that soil – it’s 90% stones! The only possible explanation must be that ploughing it attracts an EU subsidy. 

Lots of activities over Easter, especially parades - and not only religious ones. Here we have a local procession with over 40 different elements, just two of which are shown in the following photos. All the costumes were incredibly intricate and imaginative.

Now for the walk that never was. John and I decided to follow a path we’d never tried before: a steep but well marked trail up the side of a mountain. Panoramic views as we ascended.

First rule of climbing is that steep climbs get steeper. We ran out of steam a few hundred metres from the top, where John’s sitting in the photo. We realised we should have kitted out with oxygen tanks but in the local area they’re only available with scuba diving kits. Shame – but you’d pay good money to see a couple of octogenarian frogman, complete with masks and flippers, plodding up a precipitous hillside.