Not sure how many of
you remember, but I had boycotted Turkey ever since I was ran over by a Turk
who ran a red light in 2009 and she was basically the biggest piece of work
ever that I’d decided I wouldn’t go back. Come 7 years on, I decided I shouldn’t
blame the whole country for one silly cows mis demeanor and I’d heard great
things so booked a trip for the May bank holiday. Also, I booked it with a
chick Courts who is one of my wife Laura’s best friends, but I’d only ever met
her once, but we both clicked and we are both slightly mad. So it made sense
that we would go on hols together the second meeting. After all my Nonno and
Nonna got married the third time they met… so this pace runs well in the
famiglia.
So all the adventure
happened almost instantly for Courts and I enroute to Instanbul. We met at
Heathrow airport straight after work with the intention of legging it through
customs and getting to Weatherspoons ASAP! The excitement started at the check-in
counter when I informed the lady that British Airways online check in upgrade
had failed me, and would it be possible for two seats close to the front. Nope.
Nada. Apparently it wasn’t even possible to sit us together, just one in front
of the other. Cool, we’ll wait to the flight and sort it. Then the man at
security hated my banter. I told him I was just joking but wondered why
everyone was being a dick. Its Friday arv people. Sort it!
Ø Made it to
Weatherspoons and the wait was massive. Thankfully we found a half table to
share with some randoms who then hated us cos Courts spilt my drink all over
the table and it dripped down on to their bags. The bar lady also hated Courts,
who implied she wanted a free drink as she had spilt her drink almost
instantly. She as an annoying Northern Irish man woman. I kept up spirits,
pointing out the only hot boy in the whole airport with the most amazing blue
eyes. We then boarded, standing guard, refusing to sit anywhere but next to each
other. Thankfully some freak swapped out his window seat for Courts middle seat
and we were on like Donkey Kong. After exchanging pleasantries with the kind
man who downgraded his seat, he informed Courts he was an artist, and was
attending a festival – Courts could be his guest whilst I was at Gallipoli on
Sunday and promptly gave Courts his business card. As it turns out she
recognised the business card and his product as this dude used to internet
troll her!!... Back to no Sunday plans for Courts. It was then that I realised
that the incredibly handsome man with the blue eyes was coming straight towards
the vacant seat next to Courtney… Ahhh Maze Ing. It turned out he was on a
bucks, for his gay friend Steve, and the group was 50/50. The gay banter
carried on the whole flights, and we met Johnny, a quite good looking, well
dressed dude, kind of reminded me of the gay guy in Sex & the City who was
mates with Charlotte. I proclaimed that I had picked it early. No straight guys
ever dress so nicely, and then we met the buck, who looked straight to me as he
was wearing ill-fitting jeans and an ugly belt lacking the style of our new
mates. We spent an hour on the tarmac cos the selfish Frenchies had again
closed their air space, so all up it was about 4 hours and Istanbul was two
hours behind. Upon Landing, hot Will, the man with the glorious blue eyes who
works for a tech start up in Soho, informed us he was completely straight… and
so was the whole bucks party. Ahhh Maze Ing.
T The queue though at
immigration upon landing in the Bull was ridiculous. It took us another hour to
get to the front of the queue and when we did, I went straight through with my
Italian passport, and Courts was told she wasn’t allowed in as she needed a
VISA. Thankfully it only was a pay on arrival one and only wasted another 15
minutes, and id organised a transfer to pick us up, so no doubt smooth sailing
from here?
Ø Fail, no transfer.
Another quarter hour had passed and I was over it, so we got a cab to the
hotel…. Then the cab driver got lost. Then tried to rip Courts off by 40
Turkish cunts (this is the nickname we gave the money as we had no idea what
they were called, I went with Dirham initially, but the former seemed more apt
in this country of dis organisation. Then we arrived at our hotel and the check
in man informed us that the hotel had no rooms for us as they had over booked.
Another hour passed, it was 4am and we were cranky as. I informed the man,
whilst trying to be polite (those of you that know me well know that
#MonesTellItHowItIs struggles with this) that I had a busy day at work,
followed by all the delays. Finally, we were informed there was a room and it
was an upgrade at the 5* opposite.
Ø We got up early for
some reason, so after we checked the facebook check in and saw how nuts Couts
fam and friends were that she was in Istanbul we decided to find the buffet for
a feed. Was pretty standard so the goal for the next couple of days was to find
eggs benedict. Something we failed at dismally. After our shitty breaky we took
off to explore in our shorts and arms out, obvs disrespectable as but hey,
having once visited a mosque, I get the idea, pillars, space, carpet. Michael
Agile Wilson recommended we get a guided tour of Hagia Sofia. Great call. The
place was awesome. Mainly because of all the Christian stuff.
Ø We booked an awesome
restaurant for dins- Nichole at the Tom Tom resort and basically got very
drunk, as the meal took forever! 7 courses and 100 quid down somehow Courts
managed to tee up a space at a club pretending she was VIP with the waiter.
Ø Walking aimlessly and
considerably lost to this club we walked past some strangers and asked for
directions (bearing in mind both Courts and I were appropriately dressed for
dinner, however inappropriately dressed for a Muslim country. Courts asked what
looked like a private driver for directions. The other guy stressed out that
there were two ladies talking to him said ‘oh my wife is in the van’ Me being
nice looked in (saw a burqa ninja lady) and tried to speak to her, she only
spoke Arabic and looked frightened so I retreated, but in this time Courts had
managed to get the other guy to drive us to this club. So we got in the other
van. I sat close to the door in case I had to escape. Courtney had got us in to
this rape van, I was certainly leaving her behind as a sacrifice. Turns out the
guy was awesome. He only wanted a kiss on the cheek from Courts and Courts
refused to oblige, much to my insistence. We were dropped at the club and
walked in, Courts greeting the guy who she had seen in the magazine, pretending
we were VIP, he then escorted us to a booth and gave us a bottle of
prosecco…then out came another waiter with some nuts.. then another with a
whole fruit platter! However knowing I had a 5am start for Gallipoli, the night
started wearing thin and I was ready to leave. Courts informed Mr VIP man that
we were leaving and he was like ‘I’ll just go inside and grab the bill’… I was
like ‘Courts, I thought you said it was free?’ and she was like ‘it was!’ and
so we walked out in the opposite direction and hailed a cab…
Ø Next morning was an
early rise and long bus drive. It was made even harder with the hangover, however
thankfully it had dissipated by the breaky break. Gallipoli was extraordinary.
Beyond words how breath taking and chilling it was at the same time. What a
lovely sunny and reflective place. I’m sure this paradise was hell on earth
though, as come the afternoon it was stifling hot. Here, I put in my
headphones, walked to the opposite side as my group and tried to read as many
tombstones as I could to Thank them and show them respect. One person in another group kept trying to engage in
conversation. I just answered and then walked right away, keeping to myself.
Trying to take it all in. It again became emotional when one of our group members found the grave of his great uncle. I'm glad i was there for that moment, but, it almost felt like it needed to be private. I suddenly really proud of Hoddo and what he does serving for the country. It is also relevant as he had relatives who served at Gallipoli. I can't imagine what those soldiers felt, saw. Landing at a beach on the other side of the world. The ultimate sacrifice, forever young, forever remembered.
Ø Coming back in to
Istanbul that night took forever, and because of the roadworks it was two hours
longer so I didn’t get back until midnight. Courts greeted me, a huge heap of
regret having not came along with me. She instead decided to explore, but
lasted two hours on her own, before she was hassled so much she went back to
the hotel and lounged. We decided to try and find eggs bene for the last day
enroute to the airport – Courts only job to organise. We got a cab a good 30
mins in the opposite direction to the breaky place. IT WASN’T OPEN. FAIL.
Anyway after another rip off cab merchant we were over it. Looking forward to
returning in September – hopefully less time getting hassled when we are in the
ocean out of reach. All in all Istanbul was a cool place. Turks… well, the bull
part is quite applicable still, but the kebabs are on spot. What a cool place. 
