The tour officially ended after breakfast at the hotel, so we woke up at 6am to eat a little something before taking the bus to the Izmir airport. As we said our goodbyes to the other tour members at
the airport, a very nice woman named Patty surprised me by giving me a big hug and saying, "I do hope you and Mohamed have kids because you're lovely and the world needs more of people like you." I was also pleasantly surprised by how easy it was for us to catch the earlier
flight to Istanbul (11:30am vs. 1:30pm) -- the airline offered it to us, and there was no charge. So instead of waiting at the airport for five hours, we were there for only three and got to spend the extra two hours back in Istanbul. I fell asleep in the taxi on the way from the airport to our hotel, and I felt like I woke up in a gold and white dream: Mohamed had selected a boutique hotel named the White House Istanbul, and it was a posh departure from the solid yet economical choices made by the tour. As soon as we came in, we were greeted by a flowery fragrance pervading the lobby, and a fancy tray with drinks and Turkish delight. As we opened to door to our complimentary upgrade to a larger room, I smiled: they had spread flower petals and left a handwritten note on the bed. Somebody is obviously trying to make an impression -- and it worked!
We knew that the Grand Bazaar would be closed the next day (Sunday), so we were determined to visit. The weather was much colder than it had been down south, even a little drizzly. But the walk from our hotel to the Grand Bazaar was full of fascinating sights and sounds, so I didn't complain. The Grand Bazaar was a zoo, though: obviously a massively popular destination, the entrance teemed with tourists and locals alike. I was impressed with a guide who was speaking Chinese to her group -- with a heavy accent, but it's a very difficult tonal language that I'm sure I'd never be able to pick up had I not spoken it at home. Inside, I was shocked at not only clean the Grand Bazaar was (no litter in sight), but also how many jewelry stores there were (I'd guess there were 50-100 selling gold, diamonds, and other precious wares). Fortunately for my wallet, I was more than satisfied with my Bella costumes. All that glitters is not gold, ha!
After our extensive walking, I was again starving. We passed a restaurant offering Ottoman food, which sounded perfect to me because we wouldn't be able to get that back in the U.S. Mohamed insisted that I buy myself a treat, and the perfect candidate appeared in the form of a "baba" at a nearby sweet shop -- an airy sponge cake soaked in honey and topped with cream and
fruit.
Poor Mohamed was exhausted because he hadn't napped in the taxi, so he got some shut-eye as soon as we returned to our hotel. We decided to take an evening walk and to replace our dinner with just some ice cream (we were still full from our late lunch). Mohamed chose the appropriately Turkish flavors of pistachio and hazelnut for him, and my standby favorite of caramel for me.
