Istanbul

The Albanian, who sat next to me on the flight, spoke about the hot girls and the good food. “Nothing to worry about, mate”, he said, “you will love it, mate” I carefully suggested that as I was old enough to be his grandfather, “sir” might be more appropriate than “mate”. He did not quite understand my objection but when we landed, said “I enjoyed our conversation, sir, and have a good time in Istanbul.” 

The line at passport control at Atatürk airport was long and rather slow. After more than 25 minutes, I reached the sign which read “open your passports at the visa page”. They all did. Everybody – except me –  seemed to have a visa. It had not occurred to me that I would need one. So, I had to leave the line again and find the automated station at which, for $20, I was able to acquire a visa. Ten minutes later, back at the line, I was able to just about make it to the place that I had left earlier.