We are suddenly woken at 6.10am from a deep sleep by the sound of squabbling birds. As we lie in bed, calm and still we hear the sound of gentle raindrops on Vin’s rear. A few minutes pass and we realise that its not rain, it the garden sprinklers. The seagulls, ravens and pigeons are using Vin as a landing platform as they take an early morning bath.  More and more birds seem to join all the time, crying and squabbling, and scratching Vin’s roof. The seagulls however aren’t in the mood for sharing and pull rank on the pigeons, who retreat to a muddy puddle. We too aren’t in the mood for sharing and equally, pull rank on the seagulls, whom seam to think shitting everywhere is totally acceptable! 

Morning walk along the Bosporus

Craig takes advantage of the early morning light and shoots over to Sultanahmet for a few sunrise photos. I take the dudes for a jog along my favourite promenade. The cool breeze blows us along the seafront and Mac n Tosh bounce along in a playful manner.  It’s 6.30 and even though it is quiet it is still fascinating.  The well swept strip with flower beds, full of marigolds and small compact rosemary bushes. A small black an white kitten plays frantically with a piece of seaweed.   Propped up on a tree, a grey bearded homeless chap. Dressed in a long brown coat, pit boots and wide brimmed leather hat.  He is snoozing but as I pass he wakes up and shouts to Mac n Tosh. Its the guy I spoke to yesterday. He really is a lovely chap and I stop to say good morning.

Bed of rocks for the night

As the sun rises, an overladen lorry with dozens of people clinging to the side drives by. It groans beneath the weight of fifty or so people.  They swing on top of the roof packed full with rugs, carpets and blankets which swells out way beyond the sides of the vehicle.  Shame there isn’t room for us in there, as I think I might have jogged a little further than planned. 

By 8.30 we are both showered, fed, dressed and on our way to Topkapi Palace. On route we purchase our 5 day Istanbul museum pass for 125tl, which equates to about £20.  For us it will save us money plus it’s fast track system means we can zoom passed all the crowds. At 9 am the gates open and a handful of people move forward through the security checks. 

Fountain outside the Topkapi Palace

The jewel at the headland of Sultanahmet is Topkapi Palace, a dazzling collection of buildings gathered around courtyard and gardens.  Dating back nearly 600 years, to the Ottoman era when Sultans focused on activity in the Harem rather than the needs of their country. There are palaces, mosque, bedrooms, kitchens, gates and panoramic views over the Golden Horn.

Main Gate

As we wander through the first courtyards (free), the towering chimney pots of the service kitchen catch our eye.  Ahead the imperial gate, mint and treasury.  The large open gardens house the ticket office but we walk on by to the Gate of Salutations and flash our museum pass.  The rose gardens are in a sorry state and distract our eye from the real attractions. We carry along the path through the Gate of Felicity and right to the very end of the Palace grounds, so we can reverse our tour and enjoy the best without huge crowds. 

Each building is either ornately decorated in wonderful Turkish tiles or freshly plastered, painted white and displaying palace treasures.  We wander from library, clock room, divan, circumcision room, garden pavilion and many more.  The majority are tiled in blue, turquoise and white with shutters and cupboard doors inlaid with tortoiseshell and mother-of-pearl. The exterior of the buildings are almost pagoda in style with ornate wooden overhangs with delicate detail. 

Our pass includes access to the Harem, which by comparison to the palace it is extremely quiet. This section feels the most authentic as thankfully little restoration has taken place. This is were the sultan, his wife, female slaves and children lived.  Over 400 bedrooms of varying quality and style. Here the slaves would arrive from neighbouring countries and be shown how to act for the Sultan.  If the Sultan chose them to enter his bedroom then they would be promoted to odalisque with better living quarters.  If they got pregnant then they would receive a further promotion and a private apartment. However, if you fell out of favour then you passed down to one of the sultans guards or murdered.   

Many describe the palace akin to Alhombre, which is similar is layout but miles apart in terms of detail and restoration. I can imagine in its hey day, it was beautiful but sadly a lot of the detail has been destroyed, removed or lost with poor restoration. All around the gardens you can see scaffolding with mini repair projects, but the workers seem only concerned with making it safe or painting it rather than taking time to best restore to its original condition. 

After three hours of endless walking, my feet were throbbing and my attention span was fading. As we were leaving the palace gardens, we noticed Haghia Eirene, “the Church of the Divine Peace”. We checked our ticket and yip, another place we can enter on the pass, so we did. Sadly, it was very much neglected and not much cop.  

Then down to the right, the Archeology Museum. I really was starting to walk like a womble but Craig encouraged me to take a look.  I was hot, I was sweaty, I was tired, I was hungry. My feet hurt. I wanted a shower. I wanted a large lunch and several gallons of water. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t ache, but I still flashed my museum pass and entered the grounds. 

Then I stood and sigh, 3 bloody buildings each with 3 floors full of historic junk. Jesus Christ. Normally, I would relish but my exercise routine is taking it toll. I just want to sit! I slowly and painfully tagged on to Craig’s shirt tails as he merrily wandered around each floor of each building. Occasionally, I slipped off my shoes and stood bare foot on the marble floor, heaven. I am so glad Craig managed to take some photo’s. 

Mac n Tosh were as excited to see us as I was to kick off my shoes. Unfortunately, they had to wait for my feet to cool before I could take them for a walk along the seafront.

Later, we enjoyed our first Turkish meal in a rather authentic kebab and tea house.  I tried the chicken kebap, yes Kebap with skewered chicken, bulgar wheat, salad and bread. Craig opted for a traditional doner, which he enjoyed but the portion was really small, so I shared my chicken. 

Our Italian neighbours are a friendly family of 4 generations plus a few aunts and uncles. Hell of a crowd to pack in two vehicles but Italians love small spaces. Grandma and grandad are the chief babysitters, which they enjoy with the upmost pleasure.  Great grandma is a right character who lives in her nightie and headscarf until meal times. Then out pops the special apron as she help prepare the vegetables.

Tonight, the young husband and wife have a blazing row. Cupboards slam, voices scream and arms wave frantically.  Italians aren’t quiet at the best of times, so it hardly surprising half the neighbour meanders over to wonder what the commotion is all about.  Turks have no shame in stirring and it doesn’t take long for a small crowd to gather at the windscreen. The husband breaks down in tears and his dramatic sobs are a signal for all the family to join in. Its like a pantomime.  The whole family scream, shout and chase each back and forth between between two motorhomes. Papa Luigi ends the hoarse shouting when he fires up the engine. He drives off and its not long before the second motorhome follows suit.

Who needs Coronation Street!