Turkey; the country not the Christmas

Lovely, just great, to be back home again; such a pleasure to enter the apartment last Thursday Nov 12th after the journey back from Antalya. Unlike the rest of the holiday group it took me longer to return. An overnighter in London where I found a modest but really good hotel near Paddington, traditional area for the weary traveller, dipping in and out of the metropolis. The price was reasonable for London and the breakfast was extravagantly generous; the one drawback was no lift and I was on the top floor. I was so tired on arrival that when I realised, I had a mini-strop and fell back [this is a first!] on my great age. Really could not have carried the small case up three flights. Result! Charming Chinese boy on reception took it up for me thus enabling me to retain enough energy to go out to the nearby Mughals, an Indian restaurant on London Road where I ate food fit for a nabob.

I just loved Turkey with all its differences and must go back. As other people's holiday stories and photographs are always, as a matter of principle, best avoided, I will only foist two pics on you; both taken on a memorable balloon flight above Cappadocia.

To the left, sunrise over Cappadocia and below, dozens of balloons blooming in the Cappadocian sky-garden. Both were unforgettable sights and the flowering of the numerous hot air balloons reminded one that the man-made visual spectacles which occur without an aesthetic intention can be superb in their choreography and impact.

More than one third of our travelling group did not take up this hot air invitation; perhaps the 4.30 alarm call was too much; perhaps the thought of ascending to 1500 metres with no parachute or engine or joystick as it were, was uncomfortable. Whatever, those who did go up, perhaps with limited imaginations, or carefully controlled fears, were repaid a hundredfold for their mid-night efforts. One of the best bits was to be in the wicker basket below the huge balloon as it landed, ever so carefully, on the back of a truck! Impressive or what?!

It is about a week since I rhapsodised above about balloons and alarm calls and I have just not finished this post. Cannot believe my tardiness but somehow I have been either too tired or too busy. Dutch klas test for me on the Monday after my return as I had missed  an exam because of Turkey. Another tomorrow for us all so must spend precious time learning irregular perfect participles. And I now know that I have become sloooooow in the memorising department. Sat next to Arieta last week, a super Albanian girl who defies all the Western stereotypes about her country; she is slender, beautiful, happily married with a toddler and a baby girl due to emerge in April; clever; conscientious; kind. My complaint about her is that she learns new grammar effortlessly thus pointing up my deficiencies which I am reluctant to accept. I forgive her as she is so delightful and thoughtful. Meanwhile my Monday must be spent largely in whipping the brain into activity. Cheering note is that this sort of language-learning is Good For The Aged Brain, [ I read it somewhere] though it doesn't feel like that!!

I noticed with a shock as I approached the Crowne Plaza hotel earlier this week, that its large terrace of smart black and red tables and chairs had disappeared. Concerned enquiry elicited the news that by City diktat, all terraces in the centre must go by November 15th. Astounding but true as I gradually observed in the Markt, at Tom Pouce in the Burg etc. All stripped of their inviting terraces, many under awnings. The Christmas Market has opened this weekend and certainly space is needed in the Markt for the dozens of little shed-like structures housing commercial enterprises selling cheese, Gluhwein, beer, sweetmeats, sausages and so on. My middle grandson and his girl are here this weekend and we were exploring yesterday in spite of cold and rain. The Gluhwein was great and I was astonished to discover a new little ice rink in the Markt, almost at the foot of the Belfort tower. There are stalls filling Simon Stevinplein too and, as yet unexplored, a display of ice sculptures in front of the station I hear. This is my first time here in the Christmas season and it looks great fun.
To the right, an example of the ice sculpture show, this year entitled Land of the Hobbits with over 40 artists involved. As I mentioned, as yet unvisited by me, but the fact that the ambient temperature is kept at -5 Celsius, does not invite. The Ice Sculpture Festival is obviously timed to coincide with the Christmas Market but appears to be completely separate from it. It is, I hear, really, really popular so I will be braving the temperature, despite aged disinclination, to explore!


Dan, Emily and I went to see the Michelangelo in Onze Lieve Vrouw, at Dan's request. I was delighted and intrigued that a 21 year old, not, I think, especially into art, should suggest that. Turns out it is thanks to the George Clooney film, Monuments Man, in which the Bruges Madonna and Child featured as stolen by the Nazis etc. Great, and also yet another tick in the G. Clooney box though presumably he didn't write the script! Nice too for me to be able to swan into the museums here, free of charge now that I have my ID card. Definitely each time I produce my card, there is a tiny frisson of satisfaction at this state of affairs.

Just this moment, Sunday 21st November, have seen through the glass door to the terrace; it is covered with snow I think. The square in front of the building is just wet with sniw on top of some cars but definitely the terrace on the third floor has visible snow cloaking it. And it's still November. I heard somewhere it was to be a hard winter!