Medical Tourism (Istanbul, Turkey)

March 2011 - After Victoria Falls it all started to wind down. We returned to Kasane in Botswana to purchase a return flight to Maun where we would once again hop into Sparky and make our way back to Johannesburg. We loitered a couple extra nights in Kasane so we could relax in the lap of luxury at an upmarket hotel for a spell. It was swell.

Once back in Johannesburg we procured lodging close to the airport for the sake of expediency. We spent a few days tying up some loose ends to include giving Sparky a bath and purchasing airfare. While waiting at the car wash for our car to be cleaned the owner struck up a conversation dripping with racism. The country is overrun with them. We used to play in the streets as kids until they took over. You can't trust any of them. In lieu of getting murdered she and her family are headed to Botswana. Alrighty. We just met this woman. I cannot quite explain why she felt so comfortable bearing her soul to complete strangers. This was not the first instance of such behavior. I guess people have no problem sharing as we are all clearly on the same 'team'.

We left most of our gear at the bed & breakfast in hopes that someone would find a use for our stuff (dinnerware, cooler, gas stove, etc.). Someone was either really excited or really irritated by the yard sale we left behind. We packed up Sparky for the last time and headed to the Avis airport office for what we thought might be a struggle of epic proportions. Over the course of two months we'd involved three separate Avis offices in our shenanigans and switched vehicles in the process. Too much paperwork. Too many employees involved. Too much confusion. And since we'd exceeded our allowable kilometers we were prepared to take it right in the stinker. Much to our surprise the return went smoothly and although we did have some overage payments in the end the representative with which we dealt was courteous, competent, and reasonable. She even waived a few of the charges in light of our constant struggle with Avis over the course of our journey. Ahhhh....refreshing.

Wandering the 'Bul (Istanbul, Turkey)

March/April, 2011 – After my medical adventure I pretty much went into hiding. The weather was abysmal (i.e. cold and rainy) so I forced myself to catch up on the blog. With two months of pictures and journal notes to sift through there was a lot to do. Luckily, the weather was my enabler. So I hunkered down in a rented apartment and let the updating begin.

I mostly cooked my own food and, at least in the beginning, barely left my lair. In all I rented three apartments all within walking distance of Taksim Square, the heart of Istanbul and a great place to feel the city's pulse. Of course, I was not a complete misanthrope. I made a few friends via Couchsurfing.org and spent a fair amount of time with them and wandering the city all by my lonesome.

I defy you to visit Istanbul and not drink a shit ton of tea or smoke an ass load of hooka. It almost feels like a requirement. Not only that it can be an extremely pleasant undertaking....until you make yourself nauseous from all the tobacco. And frankly, I am surprised I have any teeth remaining after guzzling tea that was equal parts sugar and water. Damn yummy.

If Taksim Square is the heart of Istanbul then Istiklal Avenue is its main artery. Millions of people traverse this pedestrian walkway on any given day. Anything and everything can be found of this street. Shops, restaurants, cafes, bars, theaters, galleries, etc. Chances are you will find that which you seek. I probably patrolled this thoroughfare no less than 1.32 million times. With Istanbul being the cosmopolitan East meets West nexus that it is anonymity is remarkably easy to attain. No simple task when you stand 6 feet 4 inches (193 cm).

Go Find Yourself A Nook (Cappadocia, Turkey)

April/May 2011 – So it was back to the 'Bul to rendezvous with Ivan the Terrible. Actually, his name is Dimity, not Ivan. And he is not remotely terrible. Not even a smidge of horrible. In fact he is a rather pleasant bloke. He does happen to be Russian and, unfortunately for him, Ivan the Terrible was the first famous Russian to pop into my head soooooo.....

Dmitry and I crossed paths over a year previous in Nepal in the small village of Kagbeni in Lower Mustang. I had just come out of Upper Mustang and he was on his way to Annapurna....I think. My memory is a little fuzzy. Speaking of a fuzzy memory I did not initially record this part of my journey (my visit to Cappadocia that is). This came at the tail end of my quest and although I fully intended to do so I never got around to it.....until now.

But details of the engagement have faded, shriveled and blended together making it almost impossible to accurately recollect. But alas, I shall give it the ole college try. It is a little disjointed and represents more of a quasi-stream of consciousness attempt to elicit memories from that time than a faithful retelling but I suppose it is better than nothing.

So why bother at all? Good question. As I sat there debating that very point I realized it underscores brilliantly the whole reason I wrote about my trip in the first place: To remember. And had I not bothered to put thoughts to digital ink the whole adventure would be a nebulous blob of discombobulated recollections. Thanks to my painstaking efforts it is nothing of the kind. This is also the reason I've taken the past year to revisit everyone of my posts to add some finishing touches and, more importantly, reminisce. And now anytime I wish to travel backward in time all I need do is clickity-click.

But back to the discombobulated blob. Dmitry had always wanted to visit the Cappadocia region of Central Anatolia in Turkey. My presence provided a suitable excuse to do so. From what I'd read it sounded like a worthwhile trip. We were in.