What a Nob

It’s time to leave Istanbul as we head to the second stop on our Turkish adventure. Istanbul is quite the place: mad drivers, pushy waiters and fascinating historical exhibits. Jamie went to a mere two huge museums yesterday, one of which claimed to be in possession of Moses’s cane, strands of the Prophet Muhammad’s beard and Ken Dodd’s tickling stick. (I may have made one of those up. No clues on which one).

But after a combined total of more than four hours learning about really old stuff, our boy declared himself intellectually fulfilled - until our next destination where arguably the ante goes up a notch further. For Vanessa, Charlotte and me, the plan was to walk across a bridge from European Turkey…

…into Asian Turkey…

…before declaring ourselves inter-continental travellers.

Unfortunately, we took the wrong bridge and the whole “crusade” was a total waste of everyone’s time. Last night, for our final meal in Turkey’s largest city, we weren’t sure what to do. But after resisting the “encouragement” of at least a dozen eager restauranteurs to enter their establishment for decent food but cheap wine at stupidly expensive prices, we went to Nob, a dry but fairly priced eatery which, by common White family consent, served up our best meal thus far.

Plus it was called Nob which obviously gave licence for us to behave in a silly (yet sadly sober) manner the whole way through. (Admittedly, we did grab a bottle of Turkish plonk on the way home to toast the experience). We’re not sure what lies ahead today but we’re heading to the airport now and will soon find out.

This caps it

It can be a bit of a challenge finding an offy in Istanbul where religion generally takes greater precedence than getting tipsy. However, should you choose the latter, at least you can be comfortable in the knowledge that the top of the beer can is clean because of one of these.

Clever isn't it? And not sonething I've seen before.

Feel free to join me in raising your can to hygienic ingenuity.

History boy

It’s our second and final full day in Istanbul today before tomorrow we climb on a plane for a new Turkish adventure. This trip is a bit of a different expedition to the usual, for us at least. Jamie hasn’t come with Vanessa, Charlotte and me on our summer hols over the past two years with Scouting adventures taking precedence. However, with his A Levels next year and a jaunt with friends in the offing next June/July, we invited him to lead us where he wanted to go - and Turkey was the choice. But he hasn’t had it all his own way. Charlotte has also been heavily involved with choices of accommodation in quite a complicated schedule. She (and Vanessa) have lots of shopping planned - with some already done.

Meanwhile, history obsessive Jamie visited two mosques yesterday...

...including the famous Blue Mosque after which he spent more than an hour exchanging understandings on Islam with local Muslim scholars.

Vanessa and Charlotte were there too…

….but left a little early to fire up the refreshments.

Last night, the food was, again, more than good…

…with Charlotte even meeting a new furry friend.

Today promises to be a very different day with a visit to another continent possibly on the agenda to round it off.

Guiseley to Istanbul (extended route)

Good morning from Istanbul where the local time is early. Our arrival yesterday morning came off the back of my own little trip to Lancashire to see my beloved Coleraine Football Club play Fleetwood Town.

Much fun was had but only three goals were scored - and only one by us, so we lost. And then it was a night in Blackpool...

...an afternoon in Manchester...

and on to the airport for an early flight.

The transfer was by a people carrier with blacked windows and curtains (sadly no champagne).

And then we arrived at The Green Mansion, our home until Thursday.

I don’t make this stuff up. The first night supper was spot on and quiet. However, on a little reccy afterwards, we discovered an area which seems much more lively. That’s where we expect to end up this evening.

This morning’s breakfast was more than good (that’s The Green Mansion you can see in the background).

The only downside thus far was the jolt from our slumber at 4.50am with the first Call to Prayer of the day. But we’re guests in this fine country so you’ll hear no complaints from us. Today we’re thinking big mosques and even bigger bazaars. I’ll let you know how that all goes.

School’s out

Good morning from Bradford Interchange station where I’m sat aboard a train.

For those who haven’t read this awful blog before,  please turn back, there is nothing to see here. For those who choose to read on, I would encourage you to think about your lives and what else you could be doing with whatever time you have left

I haven’t written anything for ages because the kids are much bigger now and don’t want to be shamed in public any more. Plus there’s Vanessa.

However, holiday time is finally upon us so I thought I would dust off my typing finger and perhaps write a few lines as we go along as a means of retaining some hazy memories for future exaggeration. 

Our actual holiday doesn’t start properly until Monday - more of that on Monday, at a guess - but first a little personal pilgrimage over the Pennines to that Lancashire to see some football.

Anyone who knows me understands my divine love for Coleraine FC, my hometown club. It’s been around for 98 years and we’ve won the Irish League just once in that long and not especially illustrious history. But we’ve been taken over twice in the past couple of years, are now a full-time professional club and might even have a chance of winning something again before we turn 100. (I really shouldn’t have said that out loud - sorry fellow Bannsiders).

In a sign of how things are looking up for us long suffering fans, we have an away friendly game today against League Two team Fleetwood Town. And, having never seen the team play outside Northern Ireland before, there was no way I was missing that.

So you find me on this train bound for Blackpool where I will meet my good friend Stephen, we’ll dump our bags in our cheap hotel and then - perhaps via a hostelry or two - will clamber on to a tram to Fleetwood. And because it’s a friendly, it doesn’t even matter if we get stuffed. Sport as it should be.

More later (or later still).