In the end, we finally made it to our dear old hotel. But in the evening we decided to take another stroll around the hood. I was hopelessly hoping to still find some tea glasses, plus I needed to buy sweets for gifts, and just spend the remaining money.
By the way, as I already mentioned, Turks drink a lot of tea, it's strong and local. Turkey produces about 6% of the world's tea, and in terms of consumption, it's consistently in the top spots, on par with Great Britain. For instance, in 2004, tea consumption was 2.4 kg per person. This probably explains why at the spice bazaar, a guy generously scooped me a massive amount of tea with a huge scoop; I barely talked him out of getting carried away. I drink a lot of tea, but I hardly drink more than half a kilo a year, and he wanted to pile on that much of a single variety right away. The tea, truth be told, is not bad, it has a pleasant, non-bitter aroma.
As for our wanderings around the hood, I once again overcame my complexes and successfully loaded up on various sweets. Shchukin didn't want to lug them around, said he'd buy them at duty-free; the others did their own thing: someone's folks don't eat sweets, someone bought a little. I, for my part, am very glad I bought them in the hood: the prices are reasonable, the look and taste of the sweets are awesome, even though many say it's an acquired taste. There are no names, of course, nor are there any photos: everything got eaten. Most of it was actually pretty good. The duty-free selection was big too, but the prices seemed higher, everything is packed in boxes, meaning it has preservatives and is less natural. For instance, over there I accidentally bought instant pomegranate tea — nonsense, of course. In reality, it's just a "Yupi" knockoff in a pretty box.
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself — we still have a whole night and half a day before the flight. During my roaming around the hood, I never did find any glasses, so I spent the rest of my money aside from the sweets on a local dish. This time it really turned out exotic — meaning, I did manage to find some fresh experiences after all.
The sellers pointed a finger at my compression sleeveless shirt and asked — "sportsman"? The thing is, it's usually hot in Istanbul (over 25), but the purchase was happening late in the evening, and the wind in a seaside city isn't exactly warm.
I proudly replied "bisiklet turist", and, as usual, announced my route as a chain of cities. Then I said "porsiyon", referring to what you can see on the little sign on the right in the photo. And that was our chat.
As for the dish, I only just now figured out what it is with some difficulty, and even then only because the name was in the photo. I bought something called çiğ köfte (chee kofta). On the right you can see a piece of a large pile of minced meat, from where the cook? scooped out the mass for me and spread it on a thin flatbread. He didn't skimp on the mince, even though I paid only 2 lats for everything, including veggies and bread. He packed it for me to go, and while I waited, he gave me a little piece on a cabbage leaf — apparently, it's a tradition, plus a way to show it's a quality product. Taste-wise, the mince seemed to me like raw meat with spices and something else. Oddly enough, I'm still alive.
Now, though, I'm going to read up properly on Wikipedia about what I was scarfing down back then, and break it down for you intelligently. So, to make çiğ köfte, they take bulgur, which is a special cracked wheat, and soak it in water with onions. Then they add raw fat-free minced meat, tomatoes, spices, and herbs, and mix it all very thoroughly and for a long time. The process requires considerable strength, which is why the cooks in the photo above are dudes.
The portion, by the way, was so massive that I ate it in the evening at the hotel (and not alone), and then illegally smuggled the leftovers into Latvia (you supposedly can't bring meat in) and fried it. Fried, it tasted even better than raw, by the way. Other than that — it's nice, moderately spicy, and unusual. I'd buy something like this here from time to time if they sold it. Maybe I'll try making it myself sometime, good thing I bought some weird Estonian stuff called "Kama flour" — it'll be just the thing. Eating it raw is scary, though, even if they say that raw pork is the main danger, and beef isn't fatal yet.
Pay attention to my favorite veggies, which they didn't skimp on either. That's parsley over there and some salad resembling cabbage, probably.
By the way, alcohol in Turkey is sold only in specialty stores, and they always put it in a black plastic bag so the buyers don't blow their cover. Maris reported this, not me. In general, I think my comrades noticed a lot of interesting things, but usually kept their thoughts to themselves, or maybe I was just a bad listener. So you're mostly reading my impressions and observations, except in cases where it's explicitly stated who the author is.
Also, by the way, the hotel key came with a big copper fob so you wouldn't accidentally drag it away with you. But it had rubber bumpers on the ends so it wouldn't make noise when accidentally knocking against things while the key is hanging from the lock. They say it's common practice, but I hadn't come across it before.
The next morning we got up early, spent the rest of our money on ice cream from the store next to the hotel (some fancy stuff, they didn't even sell simple ones there) and rolled unhurriedly to the airport. Fortunately, it was about 2 kilometers away as the crow flies, or 4-5 by road. We arrived and passed through security early, disassembled our bikes quickly, (though not too quickly), so we spent another couple of hours waiting for check-in and boarding.
The Japanese are standing for some reason near our bikes
Since my notes have somehow abruptly come to an end, I invite you to ask questions. In the final part, I will answer them if possible. And I'll try to write something else about the impressions as a whole.
P.S. A final useful hint: when packing a bike, you shouldn't let tape touch the frame/parts directly. It leaves wide marks that eagerly attract dirt. Now I think that strapping the handlebars with bungee cords is exactly the way to go.