Day 21 Istanbul- The First Day
This morning we awoke docked at the super modern Istanbul Cruise Ship Terminal. Most of this structure is underground and going ashore you feel like you are in some giant futuristic space station. It all functions very smoothly though.
We were off early on a bus across the Galata Bridge, a giant suspension bridge over the Bosphorus to the Asian side of Turkey to visit the Sultan’s Summer Palace. Known as the Dolmabahce Palace, it was constructed in 1875 and reflects strong European design influences.
Getting into the building involved quite a long walk from the buspark and unfortunately just as we started walking, the heavens opened up and it really bucketed down. It was a very wet bedraggled group that finally staggered into the palace’s entrance foyer.
Unfortunately photography inside the building is strictly prohibited so no interior pictures. I can tell you the Sultan that built this was really into warships as there are paintings of at least two of them on the ceiling of nearly every room. The other thing that struck me was just how uncomfortable it would be to live in a palace
Back to the ship we had a quiet afternoon as we had booked on a dinner cruise on the Bosphorus which went until 11:30pm. We did, however, get in one of Cunard’s famous afternoon teas in the Queen’s Room.
After a bit of a false start which saw us walking a couple of Ks to the wrong dock then retracing our steps plus another K before we found our evening cruise boat. Still it was worth it.
We had a fantastic evening floating around the Bosphorus, watching the lights, enjoying great food and excellent entertainment which included my favourite – a whirling dervish.
I won’t mention the Belly Dancer who, after completing a very energetic performance, went around to every table encouraging the male persons there seated to show their appreciation of her performance by inserting paper currency into her less than voluminous costume.
Now you don’t need an MBA to see the flaw in this particular marketing strategy when the male person’s better half is seated across the table fixing you with a death stare. Sad to say, some less experienced husbands did not read their table very well and our dancer was soon plastered with notes. Whether these husbands will live to make it to the end of the cruise remains to be seen but the odds are not good.
Hardys’ Travels 