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 17th 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 11th 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.
Love yaa xxx
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