Not much colour yesterday morning when we flew in to Attaturk Airport. Disembarkation was down the stairs into a bus, and the pilot had to warn us to take care and hold on to the handrail. Out, into a sleety wet tearing wind that made the official 9 degrees feel like something minus. So far from Singapore! It always amazes me how people transform themselves in air to emerge at the destination looking like everyone on the street - a trick of shedding or adding layers of clothing.
I got off the tram when I saw the spires and dome of Hagia Sophia, and sat in the nearest coffee shop to orient myself, find my gloves, and refuel both body (cafe americano and scrambled eggs) and maps (free wifi). I could hardly walk into the wind that was tearing up the little alleys leading to the Golden Horn Hotel. Stands of leather bags and pots of cyclamen being blown up the pavement. Also tulips. Spring is on the way. "It was warm last week" the waiter said. There are two Golden Horn Hotels. Sadly mine is the one that doesn't have the word Deluxe in its name. I'm sharing with Helen, but she is out doing a food tour.
OK - ready to plunge into the Grand Bazaar.
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