The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz

365 Photo Challenge Day 14. Sunrise, Sunset.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Thu, 17 Jan 2019 03:14:00 +0000

Last night I stayed in the house that I had lived in for thirty two years. As I was already in the area and I was bringing Mum to the hairdressers the next morning, it made sense to stay. I slept in my daughters old room, handy, because it is right next to the kitchen!

When I awoke at eight the following morning, I decided to slip into the kitchen and make myself a mug of coffee and go back to bed for an hour. As I got up, I noticed the sky. I had forgotten what winter sunrises were like here. The house faces east. I love the sea and know I cannot live far from it but there is something about seeing the sunrise over rolling hills and the trees silhouetted in the foreground.

Not wanting to get dressed, I donned my boots, I had been warned to wear them anyway. Luna is not yet house trained and walking the kitchen floow in bare feet is not to be recommended. I pulled my coat on over my nightie and regardless of the bare legs went out to capture the dawn.

Luckily there were not too many neighbours passing or they have might have been tempted to send for the men in white coats. The dressed in coat and boots and bare legs climbing on the ditch to get the best shot above the hedge was enough to raise a few eyebrows. Cilgin Kiz indeed.

Happy that I had my "photo of the day," or even more than one, I wasn't going to have to bother my "wrinklies" by asking them to pose. As it turns out, G was still not well enough to join us. Therefore the remainder of the gang headed for Mary Barry's Pub where an enjoyable lunch was had by all. Mary Barry's is too far away for G. On the days she joins us we eat in the local golf club.

The weather had disimproved rapidly. The beautiful sunrise had turned into a wet grey day. However some days just never stop giving and this Tuesday was one such day. As we walked back to the car, I noticed the sun setting behind the church. I settled my ladies into the car and they watched in astonishment as I began to walk to the road. When my cousin figured out what I was up to, she also jumped out of the car to catch the same photograph. I now had the perfect pair. Sunrise, sunset!

365 Photo Challenge. Day 13: Bloom

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Wed, 16 Jan 2019 08:48:00 +0000

No words required.

365 Photo Challenge. Day 12 Sunday 13th January. Wexford Quays

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Tue, 15 Jan 2019 01:12:00 +0000

Today I had my photo planned. I was meeting Anne and her Dad for the lunchtime trad session in The Stores in Wexford. I would take a photo of the musicians and I would be set.

Mission duly accomplished, what a way to spend a Sunday lunchtime, good food, toe tapping music and my photo of the day taken and it would be something a little different from my usual. That is until we stepped outside and I saw the light on the quays.

Wexford is a maritime town, it's current name comes from the Viking Waesfjord, the harbour of the mud flats. It is situated at the mouth of the River Slaney, I lived in Wexford until I was seven. Then we moved to Rosslare but my secondary school was in Wexford town. Years ago my principal teased me that I was only a young 'wan, i went to school on a yellow bus. But he was wrong, we did have free transport, but it wasn't the yellow bus, it was the train!

The bridge immediately caught my attention. It was sitting under a deep dark cloud. Years ago, I remember a friend having a Halloween party, or maybe it was just a party to see the fireworks at the opening of the Opera Festival. I remember standing on the bridge to watch the spectacle.

Sometimes with some of the same school friends, we would break out of school at lunch time and head for the swings in Redmond Park. One day in a fit of madness, we bought bubbles and headed down to the New Bridge as it was known. We broke into two and stood on either side of the bridge blowing bubbles across at each other, Not the wisest thing to do when wearing your school gymslips. We were known as the "brown cows"

The quays when we were younger were the "Woodenworks" They used to terrify me, walking along as they tended to move underfoot and were not always in the best state of repair. But I remember winning a bottle of hair spray, in a crab fishing contest during the Opera Festival from the woodenworks. I can't have been more than six. The Woodenworks were quintessentially Wexford. Dismantled in 1995 they were replaced in 2000 with a newly extended quay front.

Therefore, instead of the trad group photo, I present to you the Wexford Quays. And being me, I could not choose one single photograph on this occasion. I warned you I would do this challenge in my own inimitable style.

365 Photo Challenge. Day 11. Saturday 12th Jan. Light on the Horizon

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Sun, 13 Jan 2019 21:34:00 +0000

Sometimes few words are necessary. I am leaving this one to Rumi.

"If light is in your heart, you will find your way home."

Rumi.

Light on the Horizon

365 Photo Challenge Day 10: Tea

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Sun, 13 Jan 2019 20:39:00 +0000

The real McCoy, a gift from India

Though not a tea drinker, it is always to be found on my kitchen counter. In the past, when I drank neither tea nor coffee, it had to be within easy reach for my friends who learned to put on the kettle themselves if they were in need of a cuppa. Times changed, I came to love my mug of coffee. Now I am the one to put on the kettle, as soon as I hear a car draw up.

In Turkey I learned how to make tea in a çaydanlık, the double Turkish teapot. . My first effort was not appreciated. However I was only informed of this on my second attempt. I was then given a lesson in the art of brewing the tea properly.

Later a çaydanlık was brought from Kavaklidere to Ireland. It travelled half way around this country when Mr. Man came to visit. It was greeted with joy by visiting Turkish teachers during a Comenius project visit. For them their proper glass of tea was a basic necessity.

Continuing in the spirit of fusion, Darjeeling tea brought from India was recently brewed in my Turkish teapot!

A much travelled Turkish teapot.

365 Photo Challenge Day 9: Fusion

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Fri, 11 Jan 2019 13:28:00 +0000

One of the greatest pleasures in my life is to prepare a meal for the people I love and then have them sit around my kitchen table chatting as we enjoy the fruits of my labour.

Today, I wanted to prepare a meal that would represent me. As my guests were from overseas it should represent my Irishness. But of course even though I am Irish born and bred, part of my soul remains in Turkey.

It has been a long time since I made Beef and Guinness stew, first made for a Comenius project meeting. The ingredients for my Irish dinner went into my Turkish copper pot, handmade in Kavaklidere. They were laid out in advance on my wonderful board, a slice of olive wood from Birgi. Each item has a story of it's own, but here on my table, they have all come together.

Fusion.

All I need now is my dinner guests to arrive.

365 Photo Challenge Day 8: Hey Dude, This one's for You!

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Thu, 10 Jan 2019 09:16:00 +0000

When everything is moving and shifting, the only way to counteract chaos is stillness. When things feel extraordinary, strive for ordinary. When the surface is wavy, dive deeper for quieter waters

Kirstin Armstrong

To know yourself as the Being underneath the thinker, the stillness underneath the mental noise, the love and joy underneath the pain, is freedom, salvation, enlightenment.

Eckhart Tolle

The Saltees

365 Photo Challenge Day 7 Back to my Roots

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Wed, 09 Jan 2019 18:03:00 +0000

I have visitors coming and going this week and so have found it hard to find time to make my posts but I can promise that the photographs have all been taken on the correct consecutive days.

Yesterday took me back to my roots. Tuesday is my "Wrinklies Day"

From the time Mum got sick and was not allowed drive, I have brought her to meet her golfing buddies for lunch on a Tuesday. Even though she can now drive again, I still bring her as I love the ladies company. They are a feisty bunch. Some Tuesday, I will ask their permission to take their photograph and share it with you.

G has been sick and was not in form for joining us. So it was decided to go further afield to Mary Barry's gastro pub. We were joined by E, another of the golfing buddies and my first cousin, who I have really only had the pleasure of getting to know over the past few months. A pleasant lunch was had by all.

After dropping my cousin back and heading to drop E home we passed the Coastguard in Rosslare Strand. The sky was streaked with pink. Nothing as spectacular as two days ago but beautiful.

This is where I grew up and I spent a lot of time on the far end of this beach. I loved walking it in winter, the wind never failing to clear my head. It left me with my love of the sea and a desire never to live far from the coast.

365 Photo Challenge: Day 6. Last hope

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Wed, 09 Jan 2019 15:42:00 +0000

With not a hope of topping yesterday's sunset I was feeling rather uninspired.

Another busy day, lunch with my cousin and her husband. Our friendship goes back to when I was a little girl and she would come down on holidays, call for me, bring me out for a walk and an ice-cream. Being an only girl with five brothers it was the highlight of my year. Fifty years later we still have a close connection.

We had a lovely lunch together with Mum in the Riverside in Enniscorthy. I planned to take some photographs of the river. However with all the chat and news of an unexpected dinner guest, taking the photographs went clear out of my head.

I had to make a quick stop in Wellingtonbridge for supplies. With the light fading, hope of my photo of the day was fading too. It is too early in the challenge to be skipping days. However, coming out of the supermarket, the twinkly lights in the trees opposite caught my eye. A last reminder of Christmas. I crossed the road put down my shopping bag and took a quick snap. Still on track!

365 Photo Challenge. Day 5: Sky on Fire.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Mon, 07 Jan 2019 00:19:00 +0000

Today was a busy day. In spite of a very late night, I got up early and started to pack away the Christmas decorations. My son-in-law was coming later on to collect it. The house looked strangely bare. The monster tree was gone, and everything was packed away for another year.

The one good thing was my all singing, dancing, swivelling, rocking and reclining chair had returned to its rightful place in the kitchen where I will catch any tiny ray of sunshine that dares to shine while sitting on it.

The house cleaned, the log rack stacked, all that remained to be done was to get the boxes into the attic. it doesn't sound like much of a challenge but have any of you tried to wrestle a box, slightly wider than the attic staighre, solo, into the attic?

The only way to accomplish this was to balance it on my head and push. I basically head butted it into the attic. Unfortunately sometimes a corner of box got caught on one of the steps. For me, it was quite a manoeuvre. But I can safely report, mission accomplished, with no injury to life or limb!

I had to stand on the bed to close the attic trapdoor. I happened to glance out the window and saw streaks of orange over the rooftops. Even though it is early days, this project has become a quite a motivator. I jumped off the bed. I know with my history, this was not a wise move. Once more my luck was in and I survived without incident.

I grabbed shoes and a coat and I was out the door and into the car. Even though I am a five minute walk from the beach I wasn't going to risk missing that sky.

This photograph was my reward. It was the best sunset I have I seen since I moved into the house.

365 Photo Challenge Day 4: Magic happens!

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Sun, 06 Jan 2019 08:39:00 +0000

"Any time women come together with a collective intention, it's a powerful thing. Whether it's sitting down making a quilt, in a kitchen preparing a meal, in a club reading the same book, or around the table playing cards, or planning a birthday party, when women come together with a collective intention, magic happens."
Phylicia Rashad

Phylicia's quotation above could have been written for me. In the past few years, various groups of women have become central to my life.

Firstly there were my work colleagues. We would sit down to plan, which inevitably ended with coffee and chat.

The next group of women were my Irish "Turkish" women, a group of Irish women learning Turkish together. We learned, swapped stories, became firm friends, travelled, and loved and supported each other.

There was my knitting group in Turkey, who encouraged me through the two years I knitted my hexipuff quilt as they turned out an amazing range of blankets, jumpers, socks and scarves, and now there is my Irish knitting group. They took months to learn my surname, as they preferred to know me as Mary from Turkey. The group could be known as the stitch and bitchers. However, one day as the gales of laughter rang out of Crafty the wool shop where we meet, I remarked we don't do much bitching, to which the immediate retort came, we don't do much stitching either!

One of the more recent groups of women to weave their magic in my life are those I fondly refer to as my "wrinklies" When Mum was ill, and was not allowed to drive I would bring her to meet her golfing buddies on a Tuesday. We meet every Tuesday for lunch in the golf club, not one of them below 90 now, some not in the best of health. But once they sit down together, the magic happens, as they compare notes, poke fun at their ailments and generally rejoice at the fact of being " still above ground" or "Mary dug us up today" If you could bottle and sell their spirit you would become a millionaire overnight. Mum is driving again, but I still insist on doing the Tuesday drive. I would hate to miss the privelege of spending time with my wrinklies.

Yesterday was a busy one for me. It was my turn to host yet another group of women important in my life, my Irish book club. To be honest we rarely read books , but when we sit around one of our kitchen tables, magic happens.

In the middle of preparing for the women, I was conscious of taking my photo of the day. I made a detour on the way to the supermarket and and took some photographs of the beach,. The day as usual was grey but I still took a couple of photographs that I was happy with.
Just before the ladies arrived I took this photograph to send to a friend. (There is nothing like a photograph to describe what I am up to,) While I knew it wasn't the best photograph I had taken, it was definitely my photograph of the day!

I have always been a kitchen person, it has always been the heart of my home, a place where, when the women gather, magic happens.

Footnote: Today was always known as Little Christmas or in many places in Ireland, Nollaig na mBan, Women's Christmas. It is the day when the housework is left to the men and the women head to the pub.

365 Photo Challenge. Day 3 Sea and Sky

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Sat, 05 Jan 2019 01:05:00 +0000

We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea.

Without words they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea.

Paul Tillich

365 Day Photo Challenge. Day 2: The Bare Bones

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Fri, 04 Jan 2019 01:06:00 +0000

Today dawned a grey, wet and miserable day. Plans to head for the beach to take my photo of the day were scrapped. Instead I went to Wellingtonbridge to do some essential shopping....... twice!

I grabbed my purse and shopping bags and the new car tax disc which had arrived in the post and needed to be displayed. Unfortunately, when I got to the car, I couldn't find the disc. So back into the house, I checked my purse and the kitchen table. O f course the disc turned up in my coat pocket. Job sorted and I was on my way.

A friend and her daughters were coming for dinner and also I had to shop for my bookclub dinner on Saturday, I parked the car and reached for the shopping bags. No purse! I'd left it on the kitchen table. So I had to make a second run. It means I drove up and down this stretch of road twice,

This photograph of the "green road" seemed apt for the day that was in it. Apart from the ivy there was not much sign of green, everything is stripped back to the bare bones, the few leaves left, still stubbornly clinging on, are withered and brown

But look to the "wings" and the green is lurking there, just waiting for its opportunity to shine.

365 Photo Challenge. Day 1: Grandpoopy

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Thu, 03 Jan 2019 00:44:00 +0000

I have seen several people undertake a 365 Photo Challenge and with the new year beginning I hav been giving it some serious thought. Only today, as I sat in my car and drove to town it fleetingly crossed my mind but then having missed January 1st, decided to let it pass.

This evening when I was home again a friend from the H3A photography group shared a post to the group re 365 photo projects and asked was anyone game?

Two things were now in play 1) co-incidence/fate
2) I find it very hard to resist a challenge!

I have decided to give it a go but in my own particular way. I will try to post a new photograph everyday for the next 364 days, the odd time I may cave and post one from the archives, there may be a day or two when I miss one. Sometimes I will simply post a photo and sometimes there will be words. I am, however, starting with the best of intentions.

This first one got it's title from the above mentioned friend. Thank you Terry for the laugh.

Luna my grandpoopy.

This is Luna. Daughter No. 4 got a new beagle puppy at the beginning of December. I encouraged her to get her, went with her to pick her up and was instrumental in naming her. Really we should have elongated her name to Lunatic.

Daughter No. 4 and Luna came to stay on New Years Day. There has been much oohing and aahing over her photograph. I introduced her to my social media friends as my "grandpuppy" There were various replies, "She is so cute" to which I replied "She is a divil"(the Irish equivlaent of a devil) The conversation continued "She is only a baby" My reply "Exactly, pees, poops and has chewed half of my Christmas tree decorations" to which my aforementioned friend replied that a grandpuppy (or should that be grandpoopy) that cute gets forgiven anything.

So please meet Luna, my grandpoopy and the first subject for my 365 Photo Challenge.

A Tree with no History!

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Fri, 28 Dec 2018 17:19:00 +0000

These past few year has seen many changes in my life, the most recent being selling my house in Bodrum and moving back to Ireland. This happened in the summer of 2017. I love my new home, though miss my friends and blue skies of Turkey. But you know my penchant for travel so I have been back, to scratch that itch a few times since.

Flying over Istanbul.

Last Christmas was my first Christmas in my own home since I separated from my husband. The previous four years I had been a visitor, returning to Ireland to celebrate with family and friends. The first two years I didn’t bother with a tree in my Bodrum house. But the Christmas spirit overtook me and three years ago I ordered a good quality six foot artificial tree that looked like a “genuine fake” as the guys in the local Pazar would say. I had it sent to my poor long suffering brother in Killarney. He then hauled it out to me on train, buses and planes. I could tell you that it was blowing a gale when he got to the airport and his flight was cancelled until the next day, but that is his story to tell. Enough to say he got it to me and even assembled it as that was the year I had broken my arm in Vietnam. On returning to Ireland I left the tree behind with a friend.

The much travelled tree in its latest incarnation in my friend's home this year.

While not enjoying the over commercialisation of Christmas I will have to admit enjoying the Christmas music piped through the streets of Wexford when I ventured into town to do my shopping. I will even admit to singing along. It's easy knowing my youngest wasn’t with me as I would have got a horrified frown and a strong admonition “ Mam, don’t!”

I was looking forward to having a real tree, I had just the place for it in my kitchen which is the heart of my house. It arrived, bringing with it the wonderful smell of fresh pine. Lucky, a four month old kitten, who came to me two weeks ago was even more excited, proving the fact by being the tree's first decoration. One friend suggested tying a ribbon around her neck and declaring the tree decorated. Another friend send a picture suggestion, wrap her in cling film.

Last year's first decoration on the tree

I had some decorations but the tree was big, so I headed for town and spent an obscene amount of money buying new ones. I returned home to start decorating. That's when the sadness hit me like a ton of bricks. My tree was a tree with no history.

There was no plastic Santa in his sleigh being pulled by eight reindeer, faded and worn, with the reindeers' antlers sticking out at very odd angles, a souvenir of our first Christmas when we could afford very little. But it is a family Christmas institution.

Where were the Newbridge Silver decorations that we had bought each year for the girls so that when they had their own places, they would not, like us, have to start decorating from scratch.

The mice in the teacups were missing, as were the glass angels, that I bought one year instead of the silver decorations, the rebel in me. I love colour. And where the beautiful painted decorations from the first Christmas market that we went to in Frankfurt. I remember when I got my first glimpse of the stalls saying I had died and gone to heaven. Thank God at that stage Ryanair wasn't as strict with luggage restrictions.

Nostalgia was washing over me as I thought back to the battered silver angel that sits at the top of the family tree. I had tried to replace her many years ago with a prettier less tattered one and I was firmly told off. It really had not occurred to me until now how much family history was on those trees of past years, until I stood looking at my bare tree in my new home. All of the decorations I had collected over the years had been left behind me. While I may have purchased or been given them, they were no longer mine, they were now the family's, an integral part of their Christmas.

I took out the new decorations along with the few I had brought back with me. Lucky and I battled over the placement of some of them. She reckoned it was her tree. The result, a Santa with only one foot, a new piece of history.

As I decorated, I placed the straw decorations that my brother had brought out with him when he and Lily from Chile, grappled with getting a 6 ft tree from Killarney to Bodrum on a day that was so windy it grounded their flight

.
This bird used to perch on a branch with a smaller one lower down. At the press of a switch, it called over and over again. It was the first birthday present Mr. Man gave me. Even though it was battered and thankfully silenced, I couldn't bear to put it in the rubbish pile when I was leaving Turkey. So I removed the birds and though they are missing feet, they now are happy perching on a real pine tree listening to my Christmas music,

Next to appear was a star I was given in Nepal. Stars have a habit of doing that around Christmas time.

There are plastic baubles I bought in Migros along with the coloured lights to supplement the straw decorations the long suffering brother had given me.

There is a knitted star, this one didn't magically appear . I made it while in Turkey. There is the sequined bauble given to me last year by daughter No.1 Note the large hole in the side. Lucky's handiwork

There are painted glass baubles given to me by all four daughters but chosen by daughter No.4 when we went to the Christmas markets in Prague. There is also a glass penguin we bought when we were in Rome to celebrate her 30th birthday.

Then from the bottom of the box emerged a very precious cloth angel wearing a traditional Vietnamese conical hat, a reminder of my friend Kathleen, who was my angel in Vietnam. When I fell and broke my arm quite seriously and split my head open (unfortunately failing to knock any sense into it) she was there by my side to make sure the ambulance was on its way, that I got the best of care, to liaise with the insurance company and my family. When she had to leave and carry on with our trip she left me this angel to watch over me

These carol singers weren sent out to me by my niece. I wonder are they a sign she has forgiven me for serving her lamb köfte, when I didn't know she had foresworn eating those cute gambolling creatures?

Then are the new decorations, one of my favourites is a 1950’s figure of a woman baking, chosen because the kitchen is the heart of my home. I love to cook and to have friends over. There is nothing more satisfying than sitting chatting around a table with friends and sharing a meal that I have cooked .

Did I say my Christmas tree had no history? How wrong I was! It has a different history a more recent one But maybe if I am around in 35 years I will be boring children, grandchildren and great grandchildren with the stories of my Vietnamese angel, how Santa lost his boot when Lucky came to stay and do you see that woman there in the apron? That’s me except I was never a 1950's woman. I was independent, and even though I loved to wander, I was never lost. There was always a kitchen table waiting for me to fill at home.

One of my new decorations sums it up.

This year I got slightly carried away and overestimated the width of my tree space. The tree like it's owner is slightly broad in the beam!

This years tree, laden with my story.

Footnote: This piece was written last year but not published. I had no wifi for 10 months.

Added to the memories this year, Santa in an airplane given to me by the same bruv, to commemorate all my travels in this wonderful year as I celebrated my 60th birthday. Merry Christmas everyone and may 2019 be a good year for us all.

An Expensive Breakfast!

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Thu, 09 Feb 2017 09:52:00 +0000

Tuesdays are usually reserved for gallivanting with Mr. Man. It is his day off and I have not yet managed to persuade him that sightseeing with his "adoptive" mother will not help him catch a young girl. Solo traveller is not in his make up....though to be honest ] I think it has a lot to do with having someone to share the price of the petrol.

I had heard about a small village " Etrim Köyü' where they make carpets and also serve a village breakfast. I have a kilim that was beginning to fall apart, mainly because of Buster kicking it to death when he is bored and wants to play. It is not an expensive one as it is machine made but I like the colours and pattern. I thought we could visit, maybe they could repair it for me and we could have breakfast instead of lunch.

Recently I have gotten used to eating breakfast out. I was in Istanbul last week visiting a friend and two out of three mornings we dined out. I could get used to this. My Mum would be shocked. To her breakfast is an important meal to set you up for the day She was always in despair of me for eating breakfast on the run. She often met me running out the door to work with a slice of toast in my hand.

I brought my camera with me. Who knows what opportunities awaited. Sure enough as we turned in off the main road and it started to climb, I was telling Mr. Man to stop the car. The view behind was stunning. While he is normally happy enough to stop the car to let me to take photographs - at least at the beginning of our days out - it was not the case this morning. It was 10.30 and he had not had his breakfast yet. He was rather grumpy. He was in a hurry to get to our destination because he was hungry. We passed several other breakfast spots, and I got a few pleading looks but I kept counting down, only 10 more km, 8.......5, hang on we are nearly there.

It was worth the stop.

We arrived at our destination. Luckily, they were still serving breakfast. I might not have been forgiven otherwise, They did repair kilims but they weren't sure if it would be cost effective to repair my machine made one. It might cost more to do so than the kilim itself. But first things first. Breakfast. Mr. Man was still looking grumpy.

We were the only diners, it was mid week. I wandered a little as we waited.

I really like the middle pot.

I would really like a nice trunk for the end of my bed.

Breakfast arrived. We were not disappointed. We chose a table beside the woodburner at a table for 4. First to arrive was the tea for Mr. Man and my coffee. He was impressed because there was a whole thermos for him.

As we waited we chatted with the owner, covering a wide range of topics. And then the food began to arrive.There were the traditional cheeses, tomatoes, olives, village flat bread. honey, a hot dish of tomatoes and peppers, gozleme, a spinach and cheese filled pancake, cheese rolls, honey, several varieties of jam. There was not a spare inch on the table. Deciding what some of the jams were, was fun. There was even a carrot jam which was absolutely delicious.

Just when I thought I could eat no more we were asked how we wanted our eggs. And received an apology that three or four items from their normal menu were missing.

See Mum, I am eating a proper breakfast.

And all of this for 25₺, about €6 each. Breakfast is definitely growing on me. So you may ask, why did I choose my title for this post.? This was anything but an expensive breakfast What is €6 considering the feast we had just eaten?

I had made the mistake of telling Engin, the owners son that I loved handcrafts. Therefore we had to go visit the carpets.The only machines used in the making of them here are the two legged kind The wooden looms have been exchanged for metal ones but the ladies still put in months of work as they weave their jeweled threads into magic carpets.The carpets may not fly but just looking at them made my spirits soar.

I knew I was lost as soon as I stepped into the storerooms. Since I first came to Turkey I have wanted to buy a carpet. But I either didn't have a place for one or the money to invest. I was on a trip to Iran recently. Of course we were brought to visit a carpet shop. I had to sit on my hands and keep my eyes on the ground to avoid temptation. After all I have been living in Turkey for a few years now. If I was going to buy I should support home industry.

I told Engin I didn't like the pale colours of the Milas carpets, the ones traditional in our area. Engin promised he would convert me. He would have his work cut out as I had spotted a carpet, in a Sivas pattern that cried out to me. It was expensive but beautiful. It would be hard to top that. He began to show me some old Milas carpets, I couldn't believe the richness of the colours. I was lost.

Was it the breakfast that had softened me and put me in a mellow mood, had weakened my defences? Was it the excellent salesman who quickly figured what I liked and didn't and rolled out jewel after jewel? Or was it just the right time? time to tick off another item from my bucket list? Maybe it was that the prices were good? Whatever it was I was hooked. I walked away with two wonderful old vibrant Milas carpets.

This is the first one.

And I mean walked away. I came without carpet money. My only plan starting out that day was to to have my kilim repaired and to eat breakfast. They took my phone number and said they would call when they were in the area. Engin would be over this side of the peninsula later in the evening but when I told them we were heading for Tuzla lake to see if I could take some photographs of the flamingos they said not to worry they would call in the next day or two. I would look forward to my carpets arriving and in the meantime just visualise in situ. They were wrapped up to be put to one side I thought., No! They insisted I take them with me now,

This one was definitely made for my sitting room.

We drove away, I sat in amazement. I had two valuable rugs in the car. They had my telephone number, They hadn't even rung it to check I had given them the correct number, They would call to the house in the next day or two and if I wanted the Sivas carpet, I could have that now and pay in installments. Tempting. After all I have four daughters and the carpets will be part of their inheritance. Maybe I should buy two more!!

Footnote: In the course of our conversation I mentioned we were looking for a wife for Mr. Man. Mr Carpet Maker knows a girl that might be suitable and has offered to do the introductions, While this may have been a more expensive breakfast that planned, will it mean that it is not just me who ticks off an item on their bucket list? Inşallah.

End of the Journey.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Wed, 08 Feb 2017 19:06:00 +0000

I decided to turn up early for check in. I was uneasy because I had not been able to do it online.. When I tried it didn't show the Dublin flight and the Bodrum flight for Wednesday morning. I was only leaving Dublin on Wednesday morning/

Was it a glitch in the system? Caroline was originally booking me on the Tuesday to arrive Wednesday morning but then we decided to leave it for a day as the Tuesday flight was showing as oversold. I had been given two nights at the hotel so I wasn't mistaken that my flight was on Wednesday,

I collected my contraband from the hotel fridge, packed up and set off for the airport. The check in was just opening and I was one of the first in line. I handed my passport over to a very nice young man, smiling as I said with bated breath "Third time lucky" He didn't bat an eyelid, but then he picked up the phone.

He was obviously ringing the office, "I have a lady here who says she is booked on this flight but she is not in the system!" He then turned to me and told me, not to worry, to go to the office and they would sort me out. I was not booked on the flight!

I looked at my trolley of luggage. When am I ever going to learn to travel light! The guy on check in saw my despairing look. told me I could leave leave the bags to one side, and when I came back, not to queue but to come directly back to him. That sounded hopeful. Maybe I was going to fly after all.

Winnie, who was directly responsible for me going to the Maldives this time last year,( that is a story for another day) arrived just after I did. She told me not to worry. Relived. I said "There are still seats then?" I got a raised eyebrow a smile and told I would be sorted.

It was the end of a very difficult period for them. Leave had been cancelled and some of the staff had worked 12 days straight under tremendous pressure. Again I was reminded how fortunate I am, I was not in a hurry to be anywhere. Retirement rocks!

To cut this very long story short, I was on the flight, I hadn't taken anyone's seat. There were still a few empty ones on the plane. My flight the next day also took off on time.

However you know me, there had to be one final moment of excitement.I was sitting in a window seat, just in front of the wing. We had just started our descent when there was a flash and an almighty bang. To say I jumped was an understatement. I looked back, the engine was still there, There were no signs of smoke. It was a lightning strike but there were no obvious signs of damage.

I was glad to have finally arrived, bags scanned with not a murmur about my "contraband" and Mr. Man was waiting to bring me back to the site. 5 days after I had set out on my journey.

In Dublin's Fair City.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Mon, 30 Jan 2017 20:48:00 +0000

Funny as I am writing the title of this post, I am reminded how random lines of song lyrics often pop into my head. When I was teaching, we had the daily spelling test, Each spelling was put into a sentence, to give context and meaning to the word, More often that not, I put it into a song lyric and sang the sentence. The children thought I was half mad or maybe even completely so. One girl, more years ago than I care to remember, looked at me and told me I was "stone mad" My title of cilgin kiz began long before I knew the Turkish term. My student did confess though that she would prefer me to remain stone mad than strive to be normal/

After that digression, I better get back to the story in hand. Once checked in I was looking forward to my brief hotel stay. My twin room was more than comfortable. There was just one major problem. There was no mini bar! Had the events of the past couple of days finally driven me to drink? Perish the thought! It was the bacon and cheese I was concerned about. With no mini bar, how would I keep them fresh? It was just as well I hadn't brought those couple of loaves of cranberry bread I had found in Tescos.

I packed my contraband into a hotel laundry bag and went down to reception. I explained my predicament to the the receptionist. She offered to see if she could locate a small fridge for me. I replied that wouldn't be necessary if they would store my "laundry" in the hotel's fridge. I had put my room number and name on the bag. Job done.........I could now look forward to my mini break while hoping none of the staff had a craving for goat's cheese.

I arranged to meet my daughter in town for a meal the following evening. I set off in the early afternoon. My goodness it was donkey's years since I had used the city's buses. Everything is automated now and if you don't have a bus card. you need to have the exact change for the fare as there is no change given. I believe you can keep your receipts and when you have enough of them to make it worth your while, go to Dublin Bus and reclaim your overpayment.

After a quick tour of Debenhams, I crossed the Ha'penny Bridge into Temple Bar.

The Ha'penny Bridge, this was a toll bridge which replaced the river ferry. The toll did increase and the bridge was subsequently known as the Penny Ha'penny Bridge.

I was immediately struck by the amount of red buildings... red paint, red brick... The theme for my photography homework was red. And the setting sun over the bridge was wonderful But of course I had left my camera back at the hotel, safely locked in the room safe.

Thank God for my phone.I am almost never without It. I fitted right in with all the tourists, except I didn't take a single selfie. I wonder if smart phones had been around when I was younger, would I be a "selfiie taker" Is it just because of my wrinkled face that I almost never turn the camera around? On reflection, I don't think so. I always used to tell people to get out of my way so I could take the photo and still find myself standing, waiting....not too patiently.....for people to get out of the way of my shot. I love the camera on my Samsung phone. Some of my better photos are taken with it. And it is lovely to look back at the Taj Mahal or the temples of Durbar Square and not have the view spoiled by my face looming in the foreground.

Yet again I have digressed.

With red in mind, I starting looking at the city through my lens.

One of the many pubs in Temple Bar.

Bloom's Hotel has got a Joycean facelift

Bewley's Cafe, a Dublin institutuon had been closed for some time for restoration. It is due to reopen later this year.

Red////jackets signs lights. Photograph is a bit blurred as I didn't have time to stop.

But the Irish rebel in me had to out and I couldn't help adding the photograph below to the set. Fish and chips anyone?

Delayed Again....

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Thu, 26 Jan 2017 21:41:00 +0000

Monday morning arrived, I repacked my perishables, said my farewells and boarded the bus for the airport. This bus was not as crowded as the one I usually take at 05.55, I had the seat all to myself The earlier bus is full of daily commuters. Imagine having to get up that early to go to work. It again made me appreciate how lucky I was. When I was working. I only had to roll out of bed and I could be in work in 10 minutes, if even that. How doubly lucky I am now, not to have to work at all. What time I rise is totally dependent on what I want to do, not what I have to do.

There is wifi on the bus. I found myself continually checking the status of my flight. It was still live. The cancelled flight yesterday had actually flown but had I taken the risk I would now be stuck in Istanbul as the Bodrum leg of my journey was now cancelled. Lucky, lucky me.
Checking my flight status was not enough I began to check the departures board in Istanbul to see if the incoming flight to Dublin had taken off. It was not good news, it hadn't departed yet but it was still not cancelled.

I arrived at the airport, quickly piled my bags on to a trolley. I had weighed them at home and i was a couple of kilos overweight, If they complained at check in I was all set to moan abut cancelled flights, a cancelled hotel reservation in Istanbul....... Winter clothes take up so much more space, especially my walking boots, not to mention the bacon, cheese and a lot of coffee pods. I can't get decaffeinated coffee for my machine in Turkey and after the previous week's caffeine overdose, decaff is a necessity not a choice.

I was still following the incoming flight which was now showing a three hour delay, it still hadn't left Istanbul. It was not looking good. When I got to check in, I was early but there was a still quite a few, who had also come early. Everyone was discussing the cancellations. One guy was making his fourth attempt to get to Istanbul. Like me he was following the departure board in Istanbul.

He had been rescheduled for the third time to fly on Sunday morning but like me had got a message to say the flight was cancelled. He and his wife had been having breakfast in the Carlton hotel, where Turkish Airlines put up their delayed passengers, when he saw the pilot. He spoke to him remarking that they were cancelled once again to which the pilot replied" No, I am flying" The man mentioned his message but the pilot told him to follow him, he was definitely flying. However, by the time the guy collected his bags, checked out of his room and got to the airport, the flight, though still sitting on the runway, was closed for boarding and reportedly took off with about 50 people on board. I assume this was because they had a short window to land in Istanbul.

So, back to Monday's check in. We were waiting with bated breath, but everything seemed to be normal. The staff began roping off their area to create an orderly queue and took their positions at the check in desks.

Ping! My phone. The dreaded email.Your flight has been cancelled! I broke the news to my new friends. A member of the check in staff was walking by. I told her I had just got a message to say the flight was cancelled. She replied quite sharply that they hadn't received that information yet. We remained in the queue. 2 minutes later the staff left their seats. It was official. The guy I had been talking to and I headed straight for the lifts...we knew the drill. Get to the office as quickly as possible and rebook.

There, once again I realised how lucky I was. One couple were trying to get to Oman, where a team were waiting for them for work, But her husbands passport, I didn't catch his nationality didn't allow him to transit through certain countries, Another guy had a final exam in Ankara the next day. You might say it was his own fault for leaving it til the last minute but he too had been due to travel on Sunday. Buster was the only one waiting,for me and Mr. Man was taking good care of him.

The Turkish Airlines staff, Caroline in particular were amazing as they worked to reroute as many as possible. How she knew so many different connection options was impressive. One couple who were on their way to South Africa for three months were rerouted that evening through Addis Ababa.

Me? I was re-booked for the Wednesday afternoon flight, put up in the Carlton Hotel for two nights with vouchers for breakfast, lunch and dinners. Life was telling me to slow down, giving me a chance to rest up between the mad rush of the last week and the resuming of my normal routine back in Bodrum...a mini break, The only pity was there was no spa in the hotel :-) I am joking of course.

Delays

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Tue, 24 Jan 2017 21:25:00 +0000

I had a somewhat eventful return journey to Bodrum. To paraphrase John Denver, my bags were packed and I was ready to leave. But messages were pouring in from friends saying they hoped my flight was not cancelled. Istanbul was experiencing major snow storms.

On Saturday afternoon, I went back to Tomsollagh, the family home. My daughter was to drop me to the bus at 05.45 the next morning. Holding my breath, I logged on to the Turkish airlines site to check in online. Several flights had been cancelled. But all went to plan. I chose my seat carefully. If you don't want the pasta dinner you need to sit near the front or the rear. The food service starts there. Usually if you are in row 16 or 17, the chicken or meatballs have run out by the time they get to you. The pasta is the only dinner they serve that is not good, in my opinion.

The messages from friends continued. Should I be worried? They seemed anxious I should leave? I was I quick to reassure them. "No problem, I checked in an hour ago, all is good! When I am ever going to learn? Complacency is my downfall! 6 pm and the dreaded message arrived, my flight was cancelled. At least I wasn't stuck in the airport. It was Saturday evening and the Irish sales office was closed, but the message told me I could change my booking online. I tried that, I got a message on the website telling me I needed to ring the sales office. I tried ringing the customer service number in Istanbul line. After 20 minutes holding I guessed the line was so jammed there was not a hope of getting through and it would be cheaper to book a new flight than hold the line any longer.

Daughter informed, I decided to leave my suitcases in Tomsollagh - there was no way I was hauling them back up the stairs to my bedsit - and return to my "bijou residence. I placed my contraband back in the fridge -My suitcase was full of cheese and bacon - and went back to Wexford. The internet is better there, I would have a better chance of re-booking my flight. Hard to believe in this day and age, but the internet speed in Tomsollagh often doesn't exceed 0.2m.

I am one of those people who ignores the health warnings not to bring your phones or iPads to the bedroom. And anyway my bedsit is only one room so there is no avoiding They say that even if you are sleeping the ping of a message or email coming through will disturb your sleep even if it doesn't wake you. Well, that night, unlike many others, the pinging woke me.

It started about 1 am. Ping, ping, ping. Three emails back to back and messages to my phone. The first a copy of my ticket, the next reminding me to check in an hour before my domestic flight. None of them said the flight was rescheduled and I was flying. What was going on? Were these just automated messages? Was the flight actually rescheduled? What should I do? If I ignored them maybe the airline wouldn't honour it's promise to reschedule or refund my flight? Wide awake now, I checked with the Turkish Airlines website again. No, my flight was still cancelled. But I was uneasy. I was definitely not going to get much sleep now. It was 5 am in Turkey, probably not to many people ringing customer service at this hour. I rang them from Skype to avoid massive phone bills and after only a 5 minute wait I was through.

The person on the end of the line was wonderful. It must be hard to be patient when dealing with hundreds of delayed passengers and especially at that hour of the morning. She checked and told me it looked like the flight was going ahead. I told her again I had got a message to say it was cancelled. She re-checked and said I was right, the flight was cancelled. She proceeded to re-book me for Monday, but again said it looked liked Sunday's flight was going, maybe I should wait to cancel. Go to the airport and if the flight was cancelled, re-book then.

My mind was racing. My daughter had gone to a party and I am sure she had stayed out late, knowing she didn't have to be up before the crack of dawn. I would have to go and wake a household to get my suitcases and then ask someone to drop me to the bus, probably all for nothing. Way too much bother and it would mean I would get no sleep. I decided to re-book for Monday. It would still get me back to Bodrum in time for our photography workshop.

Done and dusted. The booking was made for Monday, the afternoon flight . I thanked the customer services rep and finally settled down to sleep. I could have a lazy Sunday, spend time with my mum and get the bus to the airport at a civilized hour the following morning. It worked out well for me. The only reason I hadn't originally booked this flight was it had been over a €100 dearer than the Sunday flight Result!

Wexford at Night.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Mon, 23 Jan 2017 12:09:00 +0000

I belong to the H3A Photography Group in Bodrum. Our "homework" for the last fortnight was Celebrations. I was pleased with the theme. I would be in Ireland where the Christmas madness would be in full swing. No problem coming up with ideas. I had great plans. What followed showed I should never get complacent.

Plan No. 1: The Christmas Dinner

I had visions of photographs of a wonderful plump turkey, glistening brown, fresh from the oven, the table set for Christmas dinner, the family gathered around. Christmas is always a wonderful celebration for us.

I forgot that when I would take the turkey out of the oven, I would also be dealing with several veg, making gravy and more than a few impatient mouths who did not have time to wait for their dinner while I played around with my camera. That plan was scotched. Not a single photograph!

Plan No 2: The Christmas Tree

I have seen wonderful photos of decorations on Christmas trees with the lights creating wonderful bokeh in the background. This is something I wanted to try. It didn't work out as planned. I blame not having my tripod with me. It was nothing to do with me fiddling desperately with different camera settings, not having a clue what I was doing. Note to myself: Next year research the topic!

This is the one that came closest to what I wanted to achieve/

Plan 3: Wexford by Night, The Christmas Lights.

I was getting desperate at this stage. I had little to show for what should have been an easy topic. If only I could show my photos from Kew gardens last year, We went on Sty Stephen"s night and the gardens were lit up like a Christmas tree...actually better than a Christmas tree. So it was time to put what I had learned about handholding my camera and taking night photographs because there was no way I had been dragging my tripod from Turkey.

Finally I had photographs which I was happy to share with the group, though we always share the good; the bad and the ugly. It is okay sharing the bad and the ugly when I have the good to counterbalance it. Oh vanity!!

I also took a few taken near the temporary skating rink, Wexford on Ice. Not too many people around to celebrate though!

Funnily enough, it was the fountain I took at Johnstown Castle, which I felt in the end best represented the topic. This was the only one in the set which I didn't intend to represent celebration. I took this photograph experimenting with shutter speed, something I really haven't got to grips with yet. When editing I cropped into the photograph and the end result reminds me of an exploding bottle of champagne.

I wonder is it significant that there is not a single person in my celebration photographs? Even the ferris wheel is empty.

Johnstown Castle

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Tue, 03 Jan 2017 01:23:00 +0000

Johnstown Castle is a place we regularly took our small children for a walk. The last few times I have been back in Ireland I have wanted to go back there for a visit and of course take my camera. But with the mad swirl of things to do, people to see, there never was time.

Beautiful grounds

Yesterday, I spent in torpor, a bad start one might think, but maybe a good start to the New Year, actually giving myself permission to be lazy. Today dawned bright and sunny and so I decided to make hay while the sun shines, as they say, and head off. It is just a short drive from Wexford town.

Not quite the 40 shades of green.

Luckily, for once I checked my camera before heading out the door, no memory card. It was still in the laptop. I also changed the battery. I was all set to go.

It was evident as I turned into the driveway, it is still a popular destination with families, I heard more Polish voices than the familiar drawl of the Wexford accent. The car park was full and I was lucky to get a space as another car pulled out. There were young families, the little ones bringing their bikes, the dog walkers and there were some elderly couples

Enjoying the winter sunshine.

It was bright but it was cold. I had no gloves and by the end of the walk my hands were almost numb from holding the camera. In spite of the cold I don't think I have ever seen the place as busy.

The castle

One of the fountains at the castle

Playing with different shutter speeds on the fountain

Here, very season has it's own beauty. I especially love it when the rhododendrons bloom in May, or in the autumn when the ground is littered with the bright colours of the fallen leaves Today the winter trees were reflected in the lake.

Looking back towards the castle from the end of the lake,

The algae breaks the reflection

The building in this picture houses an agricultural museum and the tearooms.

I couldn't decide whether I preferred the colour or the sepia photograph. What do you think?

My girls were all home last week, but are now scattered again, As I walked around the lake in my mind I heard again, their excited young voices as they fed the ducks and swans and raced their leaf boats in the stream that runs from the lake to a second lake hidden behind the trees.. It may have been over twenty years ago, but it seemed like yesterday.

This is where the girls raced their leaf boats, they went under the concrete "tunnel", First leaf out the other side was the winner

The swans would not co-operate. I know you shouldn;t take pictures of "go away birds" but they just did not want to look at me....and I hadn;t my zoom lens.

Showing me a "clean pair of heels" though one is a reflection of the other.

If you look carefully, you'll see someone doesn't want to get their feet wet.

Most of all, I smiled as I remember the laughter around the table last week as No 1 daughter put the fear of God into Daughter No 3's boyfriend! Daughter No.3 was bringing him to visit the castle for the first time when the eldest slid it nicely into conversation that the castle is now a great wedding venue. I am not sure boyfriend is ready to plan a wedding yet.
But I can just see the family photos taken on these steps. Ssssssshhh don't tell D. Maybe when the rhodenderons are in bloom. :-)

New Beginnings............ again.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Sun, 01 Jan 2017 15:43:00 +0000

Today is the first of January 2017. The weather is a mixed bag here in Wexford, a mixture of sunhine, wind and showers. As I am recovering from a bout of flu I decided not to risk getting wet but instead opened my window, stuck my head out like a dog does in a moving car, and got my breath of fresh air. I am now sitting at the kitchen table having decided to be a little retrospective.

For many of my friends 2016 was a bad year, several lost loved ones. Many agree the world has gone crazy, the country where I live has undergone traumatic events, bombings, a coup and the devastation of its tourist industry. Many wondered how I could return to Bodrum after a visit back to Ireland last summer. Mum's birthday was July 16th and the only topic of conversation was what on earth was I doing going back to Turkey the following week.

I explained it was like living in Ireland in the seventies. When foreigners asked about the war, we would look at them in puzzlement and wonder "What war? The penny would drop and we would say "Oh you mean the troubles?" In the south east of Ireland the problems in the North barely touched us. And so it is with life in Bodrum, for the vast majority life goes on as normal. We still sit outside in the cafes and drink our coffee. I swam in the sea daily until the end of November.

2016 was a very mixed year for me, I spent the early part of it dealng with the frustration of the broken arm I sustained in Vietnam and wrestled with some major life decisions. On the other hand, I travelled to the Maldives and Iran and celebrated my Mum's 90th birthday, my daughter's wedding and also that of my nephew, with family and friends. So in many ways it was a year of joy. One friend said to me, she is so tired of the constant negativity expressed daily around her, we still belong to the privileged people, sometimes it is good to shift perspective and remember. This resonates with me. It is easy to become weighed down under the weight of our own and others problems. It is important to shift our perspective and hold onto the joy, the good things and the people who walk beside us and offer to share our load, to remember we are the lucky ones who have choices!

Over the past few days I have had the urge to write again. How long this will last I don't know. I have had this impulse before. and it has fizzled out. I logged onto my blog and found several draft posts from my earlier travels, going back to 2014 all awaiting the addition of photographs. My last post was in October 2015 as I started my travels to Vietnam and Cambodia before I fell and broke my arm.

It is not as if I have been sitting down doing nothing since then, the adventures never stop. I refuse to become an "Altin kiz- golden girl" though my hair and wrinkles belie this. I remain a cilgin kiz. When I did sit, it was to work on my hexipuff quilt, which is now complete...minus a few threads to be tidied up.

Therefore, I have a lot of fodder for my blog. I can't and won't promise what form it will take in 2017 or even if my refound desire to write will continue. However, I promise if it continues it will reflect me, it will probably it will be as disorganised and as messy as my mind.

Like my mind. it will probably wander backwards and forwards, There may be posts from past travels mixed with past and present photos and random musings, including my recent brief stint as a chicken minder, but always the adventures of a cilgin kiz.

After a brief thought that I should change the title from The Adventures of Cilgin Kiz. to the Adventures of Altin Kiz, I can tell you now it is not going to happen. While my friend decided instead of sitting in she would go out and dance in the New Year, I will stick my nose out into the wind and breathe in God's good air.

Through the open window, definitely light on the horizion.

The Flight.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Mon, 05 Oct 2015 11:31:00 +0000

We flew to Bangkok with Turkish Airlines. Our original plan was to fly to Hanoi separately, Kathleen from Dublin and I from Istanbul. Searching for the best value flights possible, I suggested to Kathleen that she fly to Bangkok return and buy single flights, then on to Hanoi she could then get a return to Bangkok from Siem Ream. It made good sense as multi city flights were coming in around €1000 and the return to Bangkok was €498 return with the flight to Hanoi just under €70.

I planned to fly with Asiana from Istanbul to Hanoi and return with them from Siem Reap. This came in just under €800. Once I knew Kathleen was flying to Bangkok and thinking she might stay a couple of nights, I decided to get the same flight from Istanbul. It would be cheaper again.....or so I thought. But I was wrong. To get on Kathleen's onward flight from Istanbul would cost me €800, €300 more for two flights less.

I decided to spend the same money as originally budgeted, fly back to Ireland, see Mum and then join Kathleen. Amazing! Four extra flights and almost the same cost as flying from Istanbul, €800.

Turkish Airlines are a comfortable airline to fly with. The food is good, there is in flight movies and the seats are comfortable. The second leg of our journey from Istanbul to Bangkok took just over 9 hours, I watched several movies, did my knitting. Hurray for bamboo needles, there is no problem bringing them on a flight and knitting both relaxes me and helps me pass the time. The thing I did least of on this flight was sleep even though I was supplied with a "flight kit" from the airline.

Landing reminded me of Ireland. We came down through thick grey cloud. It didnt bode well for the next couple of days.

The Holiday begins.

noreply@blogger.com (Maryhocam) — Mon, 05 Oct 2015 04:55:00 +0000

On Thursday we did a whistle stop tour of Sultanahmet, but not before we had a lazy breakfast on the sixth floor of the And Hotel. Kathleen was in her element, olives and tea on tap, not to mention the wonderful views of the Aya Sofya and The Blue Mosque.

I loved the cloud in this photograph of the Aya Sofya

The Blue Mosque by day

Looking towards Topkapı

We parked our overnight bags in the storage room and set out to see the sites.

As we only had a day, I suggested Topkapı Palace

The gates to Topkapı but who is that lady posing in my photo?

There is so much to see there and it is ideal for a lazy amble. I was pleased to note the short queues. I have been here before and they can snake back for miles. I renewed my museum card, one of the bonuses of having a residency permit. At a cost of 40tl for the basic or 50tl to for the Muze + card you get free entrance to most of Turkey's museums. We also bought the extra tickets to visit the harem. It would be such a waste to visit the Palace and not see the harem.

An inner courtyard in the harem

It was our first stop. I love this building and I find myself transported into another age. The first time I visited here, it was 2006 I think, there were actual guided tours, so much better than the audio guides available now. You can't beat the human touch, someone to answer questions, add the extra bit of information and to crack a joke. I imagine myself living there in Ottoman times.

Comfy places to sit and read.

However, in reality, instead of, as I imagine myself, a beloved wife of the sultan, lounging on cushions, sipping coffee (sorry even in my dreams I can't bring myself to drink tea) I am sure I would have been the poor servant girl, dragging buckets of coal for the fire.....now don't spoil this this fantasy by telling me it was the eunuchs that performed this task.

Doors tiles and domes, you need to look left, right, up and down,

After a wander around some of the other rooms, including the circumcision room, it was time for coffee overlooking the Bosphorus. These are places I only read about as a child, never dreaming that I would visit them later in life.

The Bosphorus.

The next plan was to visit the Treasury and also the displays of clothes. One look at the queues for these sent us hurrying in the other direction towards the kitchens. We also had a quick run around the Weapons room. I can't imagine how they hefted some of those swords.

With time marching on, we headed for the Blue Mosque. It was Kathleen's first time inside a mosque. It is a beautiful building, once you have fended off the tour guides and the carpet sellers on the way in and out. Speaking Turkish helps. I found that while they still chatted for a couple of minutes, they quickly gave up on the hard sell.

Inside the Blue Mosque

It was time to return to the hotel, grab our bags and head for the airport! My holiday is about to begin.