Istanbul with its first rain, wet and glistening. The cooler weather has driven most tourists away and with them, the hustlers too. Walking up the tramtrack in Sultanahmet, I came upon an old friend (owner of a restaurant). He was the first person to greet me when I arrived for the first time in 2004. He didn’t call out to me in Chinese, like he did to all Asian tourists, but gave me a big warm smile. In the past seven years he had been to jail, built four restaurants, a bed and breakfast inn, and now, his ‘final’ project is to own a three-star hotel.
‘After this I will retire.’
An unlikely story. People here work. That’s what they do.
I ate at his new restaurant. He had to go to see his father in the hospital. His nephew took over the administration. He is training him to be his successor.
A glass of Turkish tea. Two cubes of sugar stirred to dissolve with a silver spoon.
