Turkey - I will get along much better with you when you have reliable hot water, non-dodgy internet and make the price of English Breakfast Tea cheaper. This that is all. Over and out (from one tea-deprived, greasy haired and pissed off Evie Stannard)

Cracks of deliciousness

This week I have been in a very confused blur. Every day I have been massively confused as to why I am not in England, and have got lost about 7 times in locations that I know very well. I do not really know why this has been happening or what this means. I am going to put it down to the freezing cold weather that has consumed Ankara. Apparently, it will be minus 10 in a few days’ time, and will quickly drop down to as low as minus 27. Thank god I have got my beautiful granddad coat to keep me warm and toasty. However, I am living in perpetual fear of when it becomes icey and my knee inevitably dislocates and I cannot walk for seven years.

This week has mainly been consistent of being reminded that I actually am at university, and that I actually do have exams. I have also forgotten how to write and recently spelt “petal” “peetle” which is an encouraging sign. One out of five exams have been completed with relative ease.  (The most relaxed exam I’ve ever had in my university career)

Yesterday we celebrated Thanks Giving with people of all nationalities, which included myself getting very militant in the kitchen, (do not question my authority) a very interesting grocery shop by the guys (since when was flour and salad an essential part of thanks giving?) and a lovely evening.

Thomas, my dutch friend told me a very funny story about a Turkish guy referring to a muffin as “ones with cracks of deliciousness” which had me laughing for a good ten minutes. It is correct, muffins do have cracks of deliciousness.  Vit also famously remarked  “She may be French, but she is still a girl” in reference to Dorienne –  and hilarity ensued once more.  (Vit has previously asked Dorienne if she voted for Sarkozy because they had matching noses – a natural charmer) 

21.

Procrastinating is a hell of a thing. I am meat to be revising.

Being dyslexic is shit, it just took me about 7 years to figure out how to spell procrastinating, which fed into the act itself quite well.

Okay, so I haven’t posted in a very long time – and I apoligise for this. In the words of Ronan Keating, life is a rollercoaster and you just gotta ride it. And boy oh boy have I been riding it recently.

To summarize what this post will include I shall use bullet points. Everybody loves a bullet point every now and again;

·         I have taken 6 flights in 5 weeks

·         I have had one kidney infection, one very awkward translation session ft. a Turkish doctor and my Syrian friend.

·         I have had one Birthday, and I am one year older

·         I have had one lovely week in England, seeing those who mean the world to me

·         I have had one, perfect, utterly romantic and incredible week in Istanbul, with the one I love.

·         I have 4 exams next week, and I have done roughly one hour of revision for them. Woops.

·         I have one more tattoo.

·         I have drank about 4 litres of ayran per day.

In the words of Kel from Kenan and Kel, awwwwh here it goes.

England

My time back home was lovely. It was comforting, surreal, reassuring and very fun. Although the tears at the airport were not so fun. I managed to see most of the people I really needed too, and had some lovely family time. It was made all the better by the fact that there was a baby, and a kitten at my boyfriend’s place. However, baby max was not my biggest fan and went bright red and screamed whenever I went near him. Some people just got it. Biggie, the kitten (named after the late and great Notorious BIG – never forgotten homes) was a little more accommodating and we really hit it off.

We also had a fake Christmas, in ode to the one that I will not be spending in England, which featured Christmas crackers, songs, and a fairly pissed mama bear.

My best friends from Leeds also came to visit me, and we had a fantastic, although brief time catching up and exchanging stories.

Unfortunately, this all had to end, and concluded with hysterical tears at Birmingham Airport. Wah.

Four flights out of the six completed – Turkish Airways give you a lot of free alcohol if you ask for it.

Deaths Door (once more)

After a very emotional goodbye, I was not feeling top dollar. And because my body has a personal vendetta against me, it decided to make me ill. I could not leave my bed for a good four days, couldn’t eat ad could only drink water. Fantastic. There’s nothing better than being ill and alone in a foreign country with no idea how to resolve the situation. Eventually, it got to the point where I knew I wasn’t going to get any better without drugs  - so I forced my Syrian friend, Kanjo (who quite honestly, has much bigger fish to fry than a poorly Evie) to help me in sourcing these drugs. Now, nothing in Turkey is simple. This is the most frustrating thing about this great country. The simplest of tasks are complicated in such a manner that they become seemingly impossible. Especially when one of your most confident sentences in said language “I don’t know Turkish.” Eventually, after my 17^th bloodtest of this year, I was given my drugs are narcoticesque painkillers and sent on my way. Luckily these did the trick and I was on the road to recovery after a few days, which was lucky as I was about to go to….

ISTANBUL

Turning 21 in Istanbul was pretty much one of the coolest things I have ever done. (For those who didn’t know – it was my birthday on the 11^th and I am now an official adult. I can also do these things legally;

21+

·         You can apply to adopt a child .

·         You can supervise a learner driver (so long as you've held a driving licence for the same type of vehicle for three years).

·         You can apply for a range of licences  that would allow you to fly commercial transport aeroplanes, helicopters, gyroplanes and airships. 

·         You can drive lorries over 7.5 tonnes with a trailer (with the appropriate licence), as well as buses and road rollers.

Phew, thank goodness for that. I can now officially fly my adopted child in my commercial transport aeroplane/gyroplane  to our parked up 7.5 tonne lorry with attached trailer. What a load off my mind.) 

After meeting Neil the Baby at the airport (international love) our week of fun, adventure and birthday was ahead of us. I would like to take this opportunity to publically thank my lovely boyfriend for the best birthday present imaginable – his company for an entire week! I am a lucky girl to have such an amazing other half. (Soppy – over it)

Upon arriving in Taksim square, we had no idea where we were, or how to get to our hotel. After a lot of dithering and thanks to the Shmit street seller we were pointed in the right direction, and found our Hotel. The Three Apples Hotel was down a small side street, but this was not where we were to be staying – after checking in we were escorted down some very questionable back streets until we arrived at the residency where our apartment was. Now, I like to pride myself on not adopting my mothers very very high standards – yet the street that we were led down did force my eyebrows to stretch to my hairline. We passed a rotting sheeps head, many street children and a drunk and abusive homeless man. Throughout the week we also encountered a very badly dressed transsexual prostitute, and a group of 60 year old men who asked Neil how much I cost.  (translated by my fantastic Turkish knowledge) However, the apartment itself was lovely, minimalistic, but lovely.

And so our week began! (Here’s some more bullet points for no reason at all)

·         We spent a lot of time walking up and down istiklal caddesi, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city.

·         We spent my actual birthday on Princes Island, a ferry trip from the European side. It was definitely a moment to remember watching the sun set on the city, with a belly full of Pide, a head full of birthday-ness and a feeling that I would remember this forever. Perfect. This perfection was continued with celebrations, and a tattoo. (I am not going to dwell on this point due to the audience of this blog….)

·         Haggling at the Grand Bazar with limited Turkish can be a good, or not so good thing. These touts love a bit of banter, and many were fooled into believing that I was Turkish, and so continued with relevant Turkish banter. No idea what was said, so just played along, nodded, said “Tamam” and “Evet” a lot and then walked off.

·         There is no such thing as service tax in Turkey. So when they try and charge you 170 lira for no reason at all, the best thing to do is say “I live in Turkey”, refuse to pay the full amount and storm out (whilst hastily downing the most expensive glass of wine you’ve ever had) The same can be applied when buying pomegranates; I live in turkey – I know that two pomegranates should not cost 27 lira. Tut tut tut.

·         The Aya Sofia is absolutely incredible. And enjoying a coffee whilst listening to the call to prayer from the blue mosque is something that can not be articulated in words.

·         Neil’s Turkish is wicked – I am very proud.

·         Istanbul is an incredible city, and must be visited. It is very much east meets west and the vibe that it gives off because of this has to be experienced. I can not wait to return.

And so, we had a fantastic week. We drank Raki, Turkish Kahve, Ayran (much to the disgust of Neil) and enjoyed some fantastic food. (Unfortunately I was served a meat Dolma, which I ate and then instantly threw back up. Blurrhggggh.) We spent far too much money, and saw some incredible things. Most importantly we spent the week together; which was the best birthday present ever. WAHEY.

The goodbye was something out of a movie, with Neil heading for International and I domestic bound. Crying is an understatement.

Hastayım

Apologies for the lack of update. My body is doing the thing that it is best at, and has decided to give up on me at the exact moment I really need it not too. This is now day three of physically being unable to get out of bed. After a very awkward trip to to the doctors, in which my Syrian friend had to translate the fact that I had an infection (brilliant), blood tests and all sorts I am now on antibiotics which I think i may be allergic too. Woohoo. I want me mam I do.

In other news I turn 21 on Sunday, am going to Istanbul on Friday and Obama was re-elected today. So you know - silver lining.