The next couple of hours confirmed my suspicions, I did not get my good sense of direction from my father's genes. He could not find where he had parked his car so we got a full tour of Istanbul's International Airport's carpark, all floors and sections.
He drove us to check into our hotel in the old city section of Istanbul. He had read that they were turning a section into a walking mall and told us we would need to walk to our hotel. He parked on the lower side of a hill with stone paved roads which were uneven and slippery. His directions took us up the hill and down the other side and through a number of side streets for quite some time as we dragged the luggage behind us bumping over the stones. My mum, in her high heeled boots struggled to get down the hill without slipping and trying to step evenly on the stones. Considering that she had gone to quite some effort to find a hotel which had parking (as this had been a problem with past visits for my dad), she seemed somewhat unimpressed (although silent on the topic) to find many cars driving up and down the road in front of our hotel when we eventually reached it. In fact, there were two empty car spaces right outside the hotel. We had walked a whole suburb based on the false belief that the road was blocked off.
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| Istanbul |
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