I've started travelling again, so I guess it's also time to start posting blogs in English again. At the moment I'm battling the blessed Turkish keyboard where nothing is in the same place as I'm used to, but in turn I can write fun characters lıke ş, ğ, ı, ç and ü.

So... I flew Iceland Express to Stansted and took the bus to Heathrow, where I spent the night. I had very much looked forward to a few hours of writing my journal, writing letters and read the novel I got as a present before I left, and maybe read up on the places I plan to visit, but no. I fell fast asleep as soon as I had rolled out my camping mattress in a quiet corner, with my legs through the straps of my backpack, and woke up the morning after to the sound of suitclad businessmen in a hurry to catch their flight. I still had plenty of time so I took another nap before checking in myself, so much for the plans of using well the time I had to kill.

When I arrived in Istanbul I took the bus to the city, found my hostel and spent the evening in the lovely company of Canadians (French Canadians of course! But the ronronner will still only be for the Farfuglaheimili Francophones, Canadians and others). Today I have been...

... the music, blaring Turkish pop music, just got turned down; prayer time. At prayer time you can hear the muezzins from several mosques call out the azzar, the prayer call, way more beautiful than any pop music.

...where was I before the azzar? Yes, today I have been exploring the city, been to Aya Sofia, The Blue Mosque and The Grand Bazaar, which is grand indeed, a huge area with all kinds of shops and stalls. And just wandering around is great, there is so much to see and feel and smell and... it's feels great to be travelling again. It sucks not to know the language though, so far I can only say merhaba (hello), lütfen (please), teşekkür ederim (thank you), evet (yes), hayır (no) and I know that Iceland is Islanda. I got a CD with Turkish at the library about a month ago, but I had to return it without having learnt a word, and I'm afraid that in this case the thougt doesn't count.

Thanks to the lovely people who've sent me emails, I checked my mail at Heathrow and you can't imagine how happy this old heart was to read your messages.

Well, time to get some food in me (most likely a kebab).