Part 1
As we wave goodbye to our friends after a chilled-out week in the lovely town of Dalyan on Turkiye’s south-west coast, spent swimming and snorkelling in little coves with crystal clear water, spotting turtles along the protected coastline and finding new ways to zoom down the two water slides that came with our villa, I have a growing case of the jitters as our taxi heads towards Dalaman Airport.
Not because I am anxious about returning home, because we aren’t going home. Instead of looking at the departure board for our usual UK airport, my partner and I, and our two children aged 8 and 10, are taking one of the many daily flights up to Istanbul. My trepidation is not about going to Istanbul, I am very excited about visiting a city that none of us have been to. My nerves are because we are about to embark on a train adventure back to the UK, a trip that could be over before it begins.
For the very first leg of our trip, the Bosphorus Express from Istanbul to Bucharest, has not been booked, and can only be booked in person at Sirkeci Station in Europe’s biggest city or in advance via a man who charges five times the price. It is not possible to book tickets for this train – which goes once a day at 8pm in the evening - online, by email or even by phone.
In this smartphone era where almost everything can be done instantly, this is an unusual state of affairs. I have plans to offer a train trip from Istanbul on my website, so decide against the man who charges way over the odds, instead taking the rather large risk there will be a private sleeping car available for us on the 20-hour trip. The only nod to less risk being that we will stay in Istanbul for two nights, so are booking a whole two days in advance! If the train is fully booked (and being peak season it is likely), we won’t be able to make all the onward legs back to the UK that we have managed to book in advance, albeit still last-minute.
Landing in Istanbul after a very short flight and spectacular scenery on the descent, the four of us - and Duke the enormous cuddly toy dog, who was acquired by Cressida in Turkiye last year and who apparently couldn’t be left at home - nervously make our way on the metro to Sirkeci Station, luckily on the way to our hotel.
An hour later, we arrive at the international tickets desk, which is open but empty. A few people wander up behind us and peer in through the glass window before disappearing again, while we just stand and wait, willing somebody to appear.
Eventually, out strolls a dark-haired man with a moustache and a very laid-back demeanour. The moment of truth! Hearts thumping, we ask if they have availability in two days’ time. He looks at us with amusement, our panic must be obvious. “Yes,” he replies. Really? Do you have a private couchette too? “Yes,” he replies again. That’s it, within five minutes we’ve shown him our passports, paid and have the ticket in our hands. Maybe we just got lucky, our ticket man couldn’t be bothered to tell us much.
Ticket safely stored with Bhavin, we get our first taste of Istanbul as we take the walk from Sirkeci Station along the Bosphorus, marvelling at the whirling throng of people getting on and off boats jam-packed on the edge of the river, shouting to each other, selling food and drinks, dodging the many passers-by with our little suitcases while trying to stay together.
Then, we move away from the river and begin the sharpest of climbs to a beautiful old mansion, our hotel for the next two nights, finally rewarded with spectacular views over the city buzzing with life below us - plus a train ticket to Bucharest in our pocket.
Commentaires