the turkish connection

It was a dreary night in nyc. Traffic had been bumper to bumper on the way to the airport which, to me, meant only one thing. No bulkhead seats on my 10 hour flight to Istanbul, Turkey. Eventually we arrived at jfk and passed through customs with our carnet, no problem. I don’t know why and perhaps it is just me, but every time I encounter a customs officer, they always ask “you look familiar son, do I know you?”

Hell no sir. Hell no.

Our flight was delayed 2 hours, but that was ok. I chatted on the cell phone and felt like a true blue frequent flyer. Then I settled down and read for a while. Soon I noticed that every Turkish person at jfk had suddenly lined up in front of the gate to the flight that I was on. El foto loco went up and asked the flight attendant if it was really general boarding to which they answered “yes” (with an implied “get used to it BEEYOOTCH” added for good measure). We got in line for our Turkish Air flight, about 300 people deep.

Once I set foot on the plane my heart sank a little. If it’s one thing I love about traveling it is the bad movies on flights which I would never watch unless I was stuck in a metal room, and forced to sit for say, 10 hours. The moment I got on this plane, I was asphyxiated by the smell of real bad BO and taken back to perhaps the 80’s. The décor on this plane was amazingly accurate for that decade. This plane was old. Real old. There would be no movies. Hopefully there would be beer and Hawaii 5-0.

10 (exciting) hours later I stepped off the plane after what had actually been a decent flight. I was able to put most of “No Country For Old Men” behind me and I was completely ready for Istanbul. And baby let me tell you, Istanbul was ready for me.

Having navigated the slalom of drunk Turks hoping to make a buck off me, we shoved off in a taxi. “Hotel Amiral please”. “No Enlgihs” Great.

A few minutes into our journey on “Kennedy” ave. we hit gridlock traffic. Soon I heard the sires of multiple police cars behind the taxi. Cars began moving out of the way (unlike NYC) and the police escort shot past us. I was jolted out of my “gaze into the Turkish countryside” when our cab driver jumped our little car to life screaming “GO GO GO” and downshifted into 2^nd (from first, mind you) and jumped out into the road, chasing the police escort. After a few near misses with other taxis vying for our position we were in hot pursuit of the envoy.

Turkish cars were jumping out of the way of the police. I was happy to be sitting in the back seat. El foto loco was in the front, leica dangling from his neck as he white knuckled a grip on the door handle. If seen from above, the police escort looked like this. Police car, custom pimp my ride Audi, police car, small Turkish yellow taxi filled with men screaming like little girls. Well, at least one little girl.

Turkish music blasted in our cab and we weaved through stand still traffic at 40kph. The Audi, which was being escorted, held a very important Turkish military general, or so we were able to glean from our cab driver. Actually, it really could have been anyone in that car. Nothing like playing charades with someone driving a car through tight traffic.

From time to time, when the police car we were following would swerve into a car trying to pass the brigade I would catch a glimpse of the Audi. It’s license plate?

“0007”

As we neared a stoplight several minutes into our tailing job, the police in the car in front of us kept turning around with more and more frequency, giving us, what I have come to know as the Turkish “hairy eyeball”. Finally the popo made an evasive traffic maneuver which was meant to send us into some hedges along the side of the avenue. With our front tires dangling a little in the ditch, our driver turned to us with a big smile and said, with a big smile “FINIS”.

Well, eventually, we made it to our hotel safe and sound. While unloading our bags in front of the hotel a high school sports team came running out dressed in matching uniforms. I smirked and made my way to check in. This morning as I headed down to breakfast I learned the hard way that our hotel is completely booked, saved for el foto loco and my rooms, by the South African junior Karate team. Breakfast had been annihilated! HAAAAAYAH.

Ok, into Istanbul I go!


hagia sofia, under construction for the last 10 years


steep ass hill my hotel is on!


well hello there!!


inside my castle with my harem


view from my room. the blue mosque's minaretts peaking into the night sky


goodnight!!!