Novotel Istanbul

... Mustafa recommended me a barber shop near his home, so I went there when he was at his job interview. The guy didn’t speak any English, so he didn’t realize I wanted a clean shave and not just a trim. I didn’t realize he was done, but when he held up the mirror I didn’t want to try and communicate that he just wasted half an hour trimming my beard. Plus it only cost about 3 bucks Canadian, so I didn’t complain ...

... and there are stalls everywhere selling corn on the cob. I say sadly because Steve is allergic to the stuff and even the smell of it sends him loopy. That said, the kebabs are monumental, so much so that they will get there own entry at a later date.<br><br>However, the winning prize for Istanbul cuisine goes to the entrepreneurs down by the Galata bridge who sell marvellous fish sandwiches. Half a baguette stuffed with ...

... upset" - you know me too well mom!! it did look like i was mad and i was but i didnt want to be mean so i relaxed - haha.... :-) love you, mommy!! <br><br>finally we went to the W Hotel to see if anything was going on and nothing was so we went in to taksim - we were ridiculously overdressed. my friend alice and i were wearing dresses because we thought we were going to reina - oh well, that was fine. we ended up going to the club that we ...

... the Hittites as far back as 1800 BC. After the Hittites Cappadocia was also home to the Persians, the Romans and early Christians who built hundreds of eccentric little churches and monasteries. We must have visited several dozen tiny churches that were literally caves. It was one of the oddest things I'd ever seen.  Goreme itself is a town of fairy chimneys. Picture honeycomb mountains and homes carved out of the cliff sides, valleys covered in huge rocks shaped like magicians ...

oh my god Istanbul...everything i wanted it to be and more. It's sad that I had such a short time there. I could have stayed forever. I loved every moment of the trip and I know I will be going back hopefully soon. Everything was off to a smooth start on Sunday morning, the airport was kind of busy but no problems to report really. It was a four hour plane ride to Istanbul which ...

... in Turley, he then offered us some tea and a tour the schools museum. My first Museum of the trip! Ha-ha! It was good and he was really friendly. Later I escorted the girls and Joe to the airport as Bea was arriving. It was quite a journey due to the bus driver finding it necassary to take corners at high speeds. I wonder if he was in a rush or that was just normal driving? I later found out it was normal driving. I said my farwells and arranged to meet up with Candace hopefully in ...

... and green, it just asked to be swam in. the sea of marmara is part of history - the latin poet catullus wrote about it in a poem. the only part that was a little aggravating was that the beaches were made up of rocks... not pebbles, not normal sand, but good size rocks that had a tendency to shift and cause you to slip as you walked... oh well, just a minor detail that was overshadowed by how wonderful the water was. it was crisp and chilly but became better ...

Subashý to Istanbul 40km best b&#305;t the sea I d&#305;dnt feel too frazzled arr&#305;v&#305;ng &#305;n Istanbul but that d&#305;d not stop me and b&#305;ke check&#305;ng &#305;n to the guesthouse and then sleep&#305;ng for the next s&#305;x hours. Ventur&#305;ng out &#305;nto the gentle even&#305;ng heat and buzz of the c&#305;ty &#305; dec&#305;ded to try and f&#305;nd a bar that had been ...

... like on that Balkan Express to Istanbul) my saving grace from disagreeable surroundings; at other times (like Budapest) my tormentor when all I craved was the company of others. But, for better and for worse, it followed me loyally all the way back to Damascus. At 4.30am I was abruptly awoken from my fragile slumber by the attendant who ordered me off the train to complete my Turkish visa formalities at the border. When I awoke again the next morning, the Bosphorus was so ...

... accompanied by huge party) almost all Turkish boys (incl our conversation companions) go through some time between 6 - 12 years old. The conversation got louder, funnier and more carried away - and started to include every one in the restaurant. It turned into a late night - about midnight for Chris and I (who went back to the hotel cos we were the old ones - at least twice everyone else's age), but well into the wee small hours for the others who all ended up over in Taksim partying.