2014-12-04 07.03.43 compressed.jpg (80.85 KiB) Viewed 5193 times
So hotel->taxi->office->taxi, enlivened only by by hearing the call to prayer, being scanned in each and every building and having a stand up argument with every security guard over my refusal to leave my passport with them.
OK. Deep breath.Distance Ataturk airport to city centre - 14 miles. Knock off a couple as we're well outside the centre. So 12 miles to travel. 2 hours and 20 minutes. Say it again. 2 hours and 20 minutes. To be fair, he was avoiding the ring road which was totall seized, I did get to see quite a lot of Istanbul and I had allowed a huge amount of time for the journey but it was so feckin' long. Every time I thought "phew, airport in sight" it turned out to be a ferry terminal or just a huge car park. Clearly worried that he was going to arrive at the airport with a skeleton unable to hand over the fare, he bought me one of the preztel style breads from a street .... sorry....multi lane highway vendor.
But arrive at the airport we did, to be scanned again before entering. After swiftly relieving myself of the last remainin lira on turkish delight and halva I beat a path to the the door of Primeclass CIP Lounge (today's Priority Pass choice). Well, to be more precise the path ended at the bar and a couple of very refreshing dark Effes accompanied by a plate of salted nuts. As with the lounge on the way out, a very pleasant space to spend an hour or so. The bar was well stocked and the food looked good.
The flight was soon being called and to the gate I wandered. Boarded on time, to find an A320 for this leg. One the downside, overhead screens instead of IFE (a bit of a b*gger as I had no intention of working) but on the upside the 3-3-3 configuration did lead to a useful empty seat being left between myself and the chap at the aisle.
Though in a substantial queue of Turkish Airlines aircraft, it was an on time departure and the turkish delight was soon handed out and the entertainment switched on (showing what I think is called "The Maze Runner"?).
Managed an (impressionistic) snap of a (non scenic) view of Istanbul.
No menu this time around, but chicken or beef, the latter in the form of a couple of layers of a moussaka. Not great to look at, but tasty all the same.
I had intended to settle down a routine of read and doze, but instead couldn't help but be entertained by the conversation being held a few rows behind between one bloke and a group of lads ."Bloke" clearly (according to his narrative) spent a lot of time travelling, whilst the "lads" were just just that.Liberally and lovingly loudly sprinkled with the f bomb, it started out as a bit of a boastathon until the subject of using Istanbul as a centre for medical tourism hove into view. It started out with Bloke going on about having his teeth fixed and then got on to subject of hair transplants, at which point he realised he had put his finger on exactly what these lads had been doing and why they had, until then, been vary carefully wearing hats. His classic comment to one of them was "I saw you in the queue at the gate - I thought you'd just had a wierd head tattoo". Things went a bit frosty after that.
Into Heathrow on time, and so swiftly though immigration even though no egates operational ("Bloke" again - "ridiculous how they make you wait...oh, it's my turn?"_ that I then had to hang around half an hour for the taxi I'd organised. One final crowning moment in the cab ride was when the driver came off a call to tell me "that was one of my regulars who told me he's going to be late into Huntingdon station, I usually pick him up about now". Good job he was late, as at that point we were only just coming off the M25 with a good hour to go back to Huntingdon.
We can get better, because we're not dead yet
