Istanbul

December 15, 2019

Istanbul??

Those of you who excelled at World Geography will remember that America is west of Spain, and Turkey is to the east. In fact, Istanbul is about 1,500 miles east of Valencia by air, and two time zones in the wrong direction if you’re trying to shake off jet lag. By stopping off at Istanbul, we’re adding a 3-1/2 hour eastbound flight and two hours to the westbound one. And, if you want to talk about flight guilt, we’re adding about 3,000 miles to our carbon footprint for the flight.

Nice planning job, Team Anderson!

So we have a long journey ahead of us. Better get packing. At least this goes smoothly for us this time. We have a late departure, with our flight not departing until 5 this afternoon, so we have plenty of time. We just have to be done packing and out of the room by our hotel checkout time of noon. Plenty of time for me to linger over a second cup of coffee and knock out post for the journal while Rachael heads out for a morning walk. Rachael reminds me three times before she leaves that check out is at noon, and warns me not to be late.

No problem, but I might have shaved it a bit close. Packing goes as well as it ever does, and I’m back in the room with the bikes suitcased by 11, leaving a full hour to pack my belongings and shove a few more items into the suitcase. Rachael returns by 11:30 as promised, and at 11:45 were at the front desk, checking out.

It’s always interesting seeing where disassembly and packing will occur. This morning we’re in the laundry room with a few rental bikes.

Disassembly complete, ready for packing. This would have been a much different situation if we were just discovering that my seat post was fused to its bike frame.

We have a couple of hours before we need to leave for the airport, so we stash our luggage at the hotel and step out for a last look at the city and to snag a light lunch. We have one nearby destination we’ve been saving for this time because it’s so close to our hotel: the North Station, Valencia’s main train station. It’s another of the city’s Art Nouveau marvels, and described as one of the finest buildings in the city.

It does not disappoint.

Opened in 1917, the North Station is one of the city’s landmark Art Nouveau constructions. It’s right in the heart of town, adjacent to the bull ring and two blocks from city hall.

Valencian silks for sale in the gift shop.

Behind its flashy facade though, it’s still just another train station. Ho hum.

With still a bit of time on our hands, we briefly look around at some of the other masterpieces lining the nearby streets and then head over to Viena, an elegant sandwich shop. We enjoy a light and leisurely last meal and then head back to the hotel, where our taxi to the airport arrives five minutes later.

OK, so why Istanbul. We’re both reasonably good at World Geographt by now ourselves, so what happened? It was a financial decision. When we booked our flight, we were amazed to see that flying Turkish Aitlines was a full thousand dollars cheaper than the next least expensive fare. For a thousand dollars, we’ll put up with a lot. After reading up on Turkish Airlines and their reputation and safety record, we decided it made sense - even after considering that we have a fifteen hour (!) layover in Istanbul, followed by a fourteen hour nonstop to San Francisco. Groan!

With the money already spent, it’s easier to focus now on the downside of this plan. The flight itself will be awful, jet lag will be worse, and fifteen hours at the airport? Rachael does some research and discovers that Istanbul has an air-side hotel (you don’t have to go through passport control), so we use up some of our flight savings by booking a night at the airport hotel rather than lying on uncomfortable airport benches for an interminable time.

One last bit of Spanish red for the Cycle365 challenge.

The flight was fine and went reasonably fast. We made a dramatic take-off, executing almost a 360 degree circle above the coast, the plane’s huge wings banked steeply, before flattening out offshore and bearing East up the Mediterranean.

We were surprised and pleased to be served a reasonable dinner mid-flight, but not long afterwards Rachael began feeling sick to her stomach. She felt steadily worse for the rest of the flight, and by the end was clutching the barf bag like a security blanket. She rushed off the plane as soon as we landed, heading for the nearest facility. Some sort of food poisoning incident, seemingly.

The Istanbul airport is huge! Turkish Airlines claims that they fly to more countries than any other airline, and the flight map in their brochure shows that it’s a star configuration with nearly all of their flights beginning or ending here.

And, it’s quite a long walk to the hotel - about twenty minutes, including a trip through security. Not the best situation when you’re feeling nauseated and week and are keeping an eye out for the nearest facility. When we arrive though, registration is swift and easy. Rachael has done her homework well, and they were expecting us.

It’s about 11 PM Turkish time when we turn out the light - 11 hours east of San Diego, almost half a world away. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.

Albufera. We were biking somewhere to the right of where the sunset is reflecting off the water.

Yotelair, Istanbul’s airside hotel. According to Rachael’s research, Turkish Airlines would have staked us to a free stay at a hotel several miles off the airport since we had such a long layover, but it wasn’t worth it for the extra time, going through passport control each way, and getting a temporary visa.

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