Istanbul

Instanbul, the one stop on our itinerary that had us rethink our decision. Blast! Maybe we should’ve booked the other cruise.

Images of my head being mummified in fabric, unable to see, only to feel the abrasive sand blowing against my skin. And what sounds like possible death threats in a foreign language. All thoughts that made us remember we had a child we needed to come home to.

Istanbul’s the crossroads between Europe and Asia, a little too close to what is stereotyped as “the bad guys.”

But hey. Getting off the ship is completely optional. After all, our easy out could be eating pizza and ice-cream while basking in the sunshine all day. Not a bad alternative to being held hostage.

Not this time. We decided to venture out with a cute newlywed couple, fellow shipmates, and friend’s we met by the pool one day. Surely, there’s safety in numbers.

Our cab driver took us to a drop off point that was anything but sketchy – a square. Families running errands, clean cobblestone streets, beautiful shops filled with smiling faces and hand woven wool carpet. All being complimented by beautiful mosques as their backdrop. The picture was anything BUT frightening.

Okay so maybe this was some sort of fluke. Surely it was bound to turn dark in the local bazaars. Better keep our guard up.

The man selling giros taught me how to carve meat. The spice merchant in the bizarre had me giggling smelling the distinct flavors of tea and exotic spices. The shoe salesman that gave me an honest price and opinion. Each had me feeling like I was their long lost sister.

I was wrong. Horribly and completely wrong. This was a place of graciously warm people who delighted in life’s little happinesses. And they offered to share them with us, complete strangers.

I learned two very valuable lessons that day. One, as we’re all taught in elementary school, don’t judge a book by its cover. And two, be the type of person that’s gracious in the face of preconceived notions.