Jellyfish

I may have missed the architecture and traditional villages visible from the Bosphorus, but I have at least seen the jellyfish.

The water is thick with them. At first I thought they were sheets of plastic, but they're odd flat jellyfish, with an kind of four leaf clover marking.

I suspect this may be a tourist trap

After the tranquillity at my hotel, and the quiet ride across the Bosphorus, Eminönü was a shock. There was no doubt that this was Istanbul, with crowds of tourists and natives jockeying their ways through the crowded streets, which angled and curved in unexpected ways like any old city but had deplorably few signs, so I was seldom sure which street I was actually on. There were cafes, and street vendors selling fresh pomegranate juice, and souvenir shops crammed in among stores selling expensive leather bags.

It was wonderful, in every sense of the word.

The best-laid plans

This is one of the few pictures I took from the boat. I had scheduled an afternoon tour of the Bosphorus from New York, and I thought I'd see everything again later.

But I did take a picture of this, a palazzo apparently flown in from Venice. And as you've probably already guessed, the Misadventures of Kathleen had a new chapter and I did not go on the scheduled tour, so I'm glad I took the picture when I had the chance.

Bosphorus Bridge

Here's a daylight view of the bridge I see from my hotel room. It was the first bridge to span the Bosphorus, and was completed in 1973.

Those zigzagging cables to the left are LED lights that blink and shimmy and sparkle at night, so the bridge looks like a sequined bra on an exotic dancer.

Morning on the Bosphorus

I woke up slowly this morning, to fog covering the hills, freighters and fishing boats chugging past, sea birds crying, and the call to prayer coming faintly over the water.

Because I'm sleeping in Asia, but most of what I want to see is in Europe, I'm spending a fair amount of time on the Bosphorus. This is the hotel's private boat, which departs hourly for the half hour ride to Kabatas. From there it's a quick tram ride to the old city. (The hotel brochure describes it as an “elegant 12-seater”; anyway, it's comfortable and gets you where you want to go.)

Istanbul

This is by any standard a lovely hotel room -- modern, comfortable, with a stunning view of the Bosphorus and the European hills of Istanbul -- but after more than 24 hours in transit, it looked like Paradise.

First there were hydraulic problems with the plane. Mechanics were called, they investigated, we backed away from the gate. Oops, not so fast, there was paperwork to sign off on, so back to the gate we went. We left a second time, only to return when the flight attendants in the back of the plane reported a strange noise. The mechanics were called back and after another half hour or so of people striding up and down the aisles with furrowed brows, we were cleared for takeoff again and taxied away one more time. This time there was definitely something wrong with the hydraulics, so back to the gate we went. After yet another delay, they announced that we'd be taking a different plane, so we all packed up and hiked to the other end of the terminal.

I'd been sitting on a plane for close to five hours at that point -- my emergency pack of peanut M&M's was long gone, and I'd watched most of Gone Girl -- and I'd yet to leave New Jersey. I do have to give credit to the United agents at the gate, who were calm and cheerful while rescheduling missed connections for dozens of grumpy passengers, while we waited and waited for the cleaning crew to finish up so we could finally board.

"Fourth time's the charm," the captain said as we left the gate, finally, for real. I made it to the new connection in Zurich with ten whole minutes to spare, and spent the Turkish Air flight to Istanbul in a kind of hallucinatory trance. Every time I closed my eyes I went into a crazy dreamland that was half reality and half random odds and ends spit out by my exhausted brain. The woman serving the meal was rather charmingly wearing a chef's outfit, complete with hat, and I kept thinking I was imagining her, only to open my eyes and find her at my elbow offering me coffee or a piece of Turkish delight.

I had more adventures when I finally landed in Istanbul -- the ride I'd arranged with the hotel and hastily rescheduled from Newark was nowhere to be found, and I ended up in a cab with a driver who spoke no English and had never heard of my hotel -- but even the bumpiest journey eventually ends and rarely with such a spectacular view.

The first thing I did was to throw open the windows. The second thing (okay the third thing since I also took pictures) was to peel off my clothes and crawl under the covers.