The last couple of days have been spent not only with the usual sightseeing excursions but also having dinner and the occasional evening cordial with relatives and friends. There are many sections of Istanbul where the streets (always closed to automobiles) are as narrow as alley ways and the restaurant owners drag all their table and chairs outside to create one giant outdoor cafe. While these are very popular hangouts, I was spared the wave of tourists one might see at the various ancient ruins or Topkapi, etc. The restaurant we visited has been known for over a generation to be a popular spot for disaffected intellectuals and lefty bohemian types. In other words, the type of place many of my relatives love and have frequented.
The popular drink is called Roki, which is one of those licorice type concoctions. I think it's simply awful. The recipe is 1/3 of a glass of Roki and 2/3 of a glass of water, which turns the drink a milky white. All Turks seem to love this drink. I don't get it.
By the way, the section of town where so many of these open air restaurants are located is near the neighborhood that Nobel Prize winning author Orhan Pamuk writes about at length in a number of his books.
Again, apologies for not contributing more to this blog, and not providing pictures. It took me 10 days to get this machine to behave (I'm still not sure how I did it) enough to post the occasional note, but soon I hope to regale you all with pix and mind numbing details about this excellent adventure.
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