No Bull – Istanbul
There’s a story about a small boy, sitting amongst mountains of sweets, and starving to death. His problem? So much to choose from he couldn’t choose any. So, why did this story come to mind here in the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul?
There’s a story about a small boy, sitting amongst mountains of sweets, and starving to death. His problem? So much to choose from he couldn’t choose any. So, why did this story come to mind here in the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul?
If you get asked the old trivia question “what’s the capital of Greece?” the correct answer used to be “about five dollars”. Good news! We’ve changed that!
Death and organized tours are two of the great levellers of life. They are also both a means to an end, so to speak.
They reckon you should never talk about politics or religion. Oops.
It’s another early morning and we’re on our way from the port of Civitavecchia to Rome.
I reckon Italy is wasted on the Italians. It’s stop two of our cruise and already I’m feeling like a hummingbird that darts in, enjoys the flower, and then darts off again. Overnight, France has magically morphed into Italy.
An old pommie guy once said that all of life is a stage, and we are but players. It’s Saturday, I think. We boarded the boat yesterday in Catalonia and now we’re in France. I call it a boat, but when you’re seventeen stories high and weigh a hundred and fifty thousand tonnes you probably get to be called a ship.
They say that men are from Mars and women are from Visa. Maybe true, maybe not. I prefer to think that we just look at two sides of the same coin.
We’ve arrived safely in Zurich. For the first time ever, following recent events, the flight from southeast Asia to Europe was the one that almost had us concerned. We admit we are both a little relieved when wheels hit tarmac, even if it’s too foggy to confirm we are even in the country that we’re supposed to be.
We love talking with cab drivers. They are part of the fabric of most big cities, and generally have their fingers on the pulse of society.
It’s our first morning on the go. We wake up to that familiar yet undefinable smell of Asia, and look out at the palm trees and rain forest nearby. Let’s go get breakfast. Wham! Oh yeah, we forgot that it’s hot – all the time.