Grand Bazaar, Gouda cheese and techno fist pumping

Yesterday was my first off-day of the weekend and I was determined to take advantage of it. I woke up….late…and got off to a bad start. I went downstairs and asked the World’s Most Unfriendly Hotel Receptionist if the hotel had a map of Istanbul. I was pleased when he pulled out a detailed map from a drawer. When I tried to take the map he informed me that I couldn’t have it because the hotel doesn’t give away maps. What kind of $150-a-night hotel can’t spring for some freakin maps????

Dismayed but not deterred I opted for plan B. Ask the receptionist known for being extremely unhelpful for directions into a place I’ve never seen, sans map, and without being able to speak the language. When I asked him how I could get to the Grand Bazaar, his response was, “Take bus 25E. Get off and you should take the Metro.”

This was not how I pictured my day touring Istanbul starting off. I pressed the fiend behind the desk for my details, and he finally relented, telling me I should get off the Metro at Beyazit. He also told me where I could catch the 25E bus. Despite my efforts to coax out something more than just a starting point and an ending point I couldn’t get him to divulge any more state secrets.

Because I’m naturally a competitive person I tend to twist situations, making competitions with people who have no idea I’m competing with them. I was in full-fledged eff-you mode, determined to get to the Grand Bazaar to spite the guy working at the front desk.

After successfully figuring out how much to pay on the bus (my preferred strategy is to put a 5 TL bill down and hope I get correct change), I stood there, packed in like a sardine, waiting for the Metro stop. I knew before I got on the bus is that I live in the northernmost district of Istanbul, so when I was on the bus I decided I would ride it until I figured I was in downtown and then get off when a lot of people got off. Advanced strategy, I know.

I rode the bus for about 45 minutes; saw the bridge that connect the European side of Turkey to the Asian side. That was cool, it is a really impressive suspension bridge. When we got to what I imagined downtown Istanbul to look like I started waiting for a mass exodus of bus passengers to signal my destination. As we pulled up to a stop I saw a huge Metro sign and looked around the bus. Half the bus got off, and I was suddenly left with a dilemma.

Without reason I jumped off the bus and took in my surroundings. I started walking left because, well why not? I ended up walking around some cool walking streets, seeing all types of vendors. But no Metro station. It should be noted that I was looking for a subway entrance because that’s what I think of when I think of Metro. It turns out the Metro was more like an above-ground light rail that they are building in Seattle.

I circled back to the spot where I got off the bus and figured I’d get back on and see where the other half of the people get off. Fortunately another one came along in less than a minute. After riding the bus about a mile or so we pulled up to a stop light. All of the sudden everyone rushed for the exits, and before I knew it I was the only one on the bus. Figuring they knew something I didn’t, I hopped off and tried to figure out where everyone was running to. Turns out they were running so they could cross the street and catch the next Metro. I’d finally found the Metro!

The next part was easy, I mean the guy at the hotel even gave me the name of the exit to get off at! I got off at Beyazit and found the Grand Bazaar. I had planned on looking for gifts for people, but I had drastically underestimated the amount of attention someone who is 7 feet tall and foreign generates in a place where shop keepers are constantly calling out to people to entice them to shop.

I first attempted ignoring the people, pretending I didn’t speak Turkish or English. Apparently they’ve seen this strategy before (who would’ve guessed?!?!), and they started coming up and pulling my jacket. It’s much more difficult to ignore three people tugging you in different directions than it is when they simply call out to you. It was madness, before I could say “no thanks” to one guy, another would come up and pull on my coat. I walked around briefly, took one picture and got out of there as fast as I could.

Since it was about 3 pm I figured I’d try to make it back to my hotel. The traffic in Istanbul is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I’m not lying when I say I’ve sat in bumper to bumper traffic on the freeway….on the way home from a club at 4 am.

Unfortunately traffic takes no holiday in Istanbul and it took me a long time to get home. I hadn’t eaten lunch and was getting hungry, so I stopped in at a grocery store close to my hotel to see if I could find any snacks to hold me over until I could eat dinner. That’s when I saw Gouda cheese, and I was psyched! There aren’t a lot of familiar foods for me to eat where I am, so the sight of Gouda cheese made me more excited than I should have been. Unfortunately I couldn’t find any good crackers to go with it, but I bought it anyway and ate it straight.

After relaxing in my room and eating dinner I got a call from my friend, Kemal. He works for my agent. He invited me out, so I wrote down the name of the place he was at and got into a taxi. I don’t have a cell phone or a way to communicate with the driver, so I was happy when I figured out he knew where the place was. I have no idea if he ripped me off. But it wouldn’t be the first time that happened to me by a Turkish cab driver.

Me and Kemal hung out for awhile at a TGI Fridays, it was a carbon-copy of the American version. After drinking some Turkish beer (Efes Pilsen is really good) we headed to a club, hilariously named Supper Club. It was an unreal scene. We were going there because Kemal’s best friend was having a birthday party. We skipped the line, went in for free and went to the VIP section. Instead of a table, we had a couch (maybe it was a king size bed) with silk sheets and silk pillows. In the middle of the couch was a table with a bunch of bottles of alcohol, fresh sliced fruit, chocolate cake and other food. I had a few beers, ate a bunch of kiwis (what? They were delicious) and took in the scene.

The music was strictly techno. And with all the fist pumping going on I was waiting for an appearance by a Jersey Shore cast member. The dancing was terrible, but the beer was free and food was good. My favorite part of the night came when a guy came out with a microphone and started singing some song. The strange part about this guy was that he had a shaved head, one earing, was wearing a CORSET, tight leather pants and high heel boots. He was a dead ringer for Xerses from the movie 300.

Overall the club wasn’t really my scene. Everyone smoked and the music sucked (how do you dance to techno if you are unwilling to abuse MDMA?). But the alcohol was free, the food was free and our couch/bed was right next to the couch/bed being used by Turkey’s equivalent of George Clooney. At first I thought he was just a creepy old guy dancing with a lot of younger women, but then I found out he was famous so it all made sense.