adventure, Champagne Bucket trips, Funny stories, Paris

Pardon My French: Brussels and Paris 2026 (part seven)

This is going to be a very LONG post. Sorry about that!

Thursday, March 26th, was our biggest day in Paris. We had tickets to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, something neither of us had ever previously done. We decided to visit the iconic site at 7:00 PM and have champagne at the top. That decision cost us a lot of money, but I think it was worth it for that one time. I doubt we’ll bother going up to the top of the tower again, but I’m glad we did it that one time, especially since it was a beautiful evening.

But what did we do before we went to the tower? Well, we did lots of walking, taking pictures, and people watching. All told, we racked up about six miles on that day, which for me, is quite an accomplishment.

We started off Thursday with breakfast at the hotel. Bill had avocado toast with a cappuccino and orange juice. I had a continental breakfast, with bread, butter, jam, orange juice, poached eggs, and delicious hot chocolate. The hot chocolate was especially interesting, as I had it each of the four mornings we were at the hotel, and each time, it was served differently. Below is the cup that seemed the most conventional to me. It was very good. The guy who waited on us had to confirm that I could get poached eggs with a continental breakfast. I guess they require more work than scrambled, boiled, or fried eggs.

After we ate, we started our long walk into the city center. I paused somewhat frequently to take pictures and stretch my hips and back, which ache a lot these days. It was a crisp, sunny morning, and just slightly too cold for the v-neck wool sweater I was wearing under my bigger “coatigan”.

As we got closer to downtown, we came across Parc Monceau, a gorgeous spot that I read is a sort of mirror image of the Jardin du Luxembourg in northern Paris.” It’s interesting we went there, since our hotel was close to the Jardin du Luxembourg when we visited Paris in May 2009.

I wish we’d spent more time visiting the Parc Monceau. It was absolutely gorgeous. And a little girl drew our attention to it by blowing bubbles as she crossed the street. I wish I’d gotten a few more photos of this magical place… totally free to enjoy, and with lots of benches for weary backs. If anything, I wanted more photos of the beautiful flowers and landmarks. Parc Monceau is “unusual” in Paris, because it’s more of an informal English style garden, rather than the more formal French style. Just looking at these photos make me want to find a garden and explore it today.

*You can’t see it that well, but there were bubbles all over the place when I took this photo.*

But the chilly weather insisted that we keep walking, because sitting down, even in the sun, was a bit too cold. Besides, there was a lot more to see. So we kept walking until, as we were about to pass through the gates of the park, Bill looked up and noticed a familiar arc…

Lots of people were taking photos of the majestic Arc du Triomphe, which loomed imposingly across the street. We crossed over, soon finding ourselves on the Champs-Élysées, a very famous shopping boulevard in Paris… We cut down another street, where we passed the American Cathedral in Paris and The Crazy Horse, a legendary cabaret.

*One of those guys who doesn’t move a muscle…*

After we crossed a major road, I looked to my left and noticed we were passing the Bateaux Mouches dock. Even though we took a river cruise when we visited Paris in 2009, it seemed like a good thing to do before lunchtime. We could get out of the chill by sitting inside the boat, while taking in views of the major Parisian sites from the Seine. It was also especially handy, because there was a restroom at the dock, and on the vessel itself. It also happened to be a great spot for an Eiffel Tower pic.

So we bought a ticket for 17 euros… it was a strictly no frills cruise. And as we waited for our 11:30 AM departure, we were suddenly joined by about a hundred teenagers! They descended on the dock like the famous anchovies from the first episode of Spongebob Squarepants. I wrote more about this experience on the day after it happened. You can follow the link to my main blog to read what I wrote then.

For those who don’t want to click the link… I remember sitting there at the dock, as dozens of teens crowded in. I was sitting next to an automatic arm with a boxing glove on the end of it.

Everybody was looking at the boat that was nearest to where we were waiting. I figured that was the one we’d be boarding, and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to find a good spot that allowed views, while not forcing me to be out in the cold. I looked at all the teens who had congregated. Quite a few of the girls were dressed stylishly, but not for comfort or practicality, as they walked around Paris. Some had on short, tight mini skirts, lacy tights, and high heels. I was dressed more appropriately, but I’m old and cranky, and I don’t like to be chilled.

So I was feeling a bit doomed, but then I noticed an annoyed looking man standing near the boxing glove. He was obviously an official, and he was trying to get the teens’ attention. He saw me looking at him and invited me to board… and it was a different boat, beyond the boxing gloved automatic arm I’d been staring at as the teens descended on us.

I jumped up, and was the first to board the boat. We took an inside seat at the rear, near the bathrooms and a vending machine that sold candy, water, and soft drinks. We didn’t move from our spots. I didn’t have to worry, anyway. The boat was huge, so there was lots of room, and it was kind of fun to listen to the kids shrieking when we went under the many Parisian bridges.

The only unfortunate thing was that I wasn’t in the best spot for picture taking. At one point, two guys stood outside our window and smoked. One of them noticed me scowling at him when he dropped his butt on the floor. He stomped on it again and walked away, but left the smoldering trash on the boat, where I think it eventually rolled off into the river. 🤬

We used a different cruise company when we did our boat ride in 2009. It was very similar, and had the same “guide” that came on over a loudspeaker that we couldn’t really hear very well. But it was okay. We were just there to kill an hour and experience something different. I enjoyed the cruise, even if I wish it had been a bit warmer outside. There are MANY boat cruise companies in Paris, and they offer a variety of experiences, so this is an activity I would happily do again and again.

Maybe next time, we’ll do a champagne cruise. That might help us avoid huge groups of high school kids… although in fairness to them, they were mostly pretty well behaved. A lot of them were wearing jackets that indicated an affiliation with the International Rotary Club. My dad used to be a member of Rotary. I also enjoyed the kids who were singing and playing songs that were popular when I was 12! One guy was singing Wham’s “Careless Whisper” (and quite well, I might add). Another was playing “Down Under” by Men at Work.

After we got off the boat, it was time for lunch. We started walking on the Left Bank of the Seine. I was looking for a charming place, not too crowded, where we might have some lovely food. I was starting to get a little frustrated until we turned on a street with a wonderful view of the Eiffel Tower. As we got closer, I noticed a couple of places that looked like they might fit the bill nicely. I almost went into a French place, but decided I didn’t like the look of their tables and chairs. I thought they’d be uncomfortably small.

But then I turned down another street, where people were taking pictures. To my right, there was an Italian place. It wasn’t packed with people. And when we went inside, we were warmly greeted by a lady who invited us to sit down at a two top near a rather crotchety looking elderly French couple. They were finishing up their desserts. Il Sorrentino turned out to be an excellent lunch choice for us, side eyes notwithstanding…

We started out with focaccia, some of the best I’ve ever had. Bill ordered sparkling water and a lovely Brolio Chianti Classico from Italy. Then, for our main courses, I had spinach cannelloni gratinati, while Bill went for ravioli stuffed with chicken on pecorino cheese and black truffle. It was absolutely delicious!

Then, for dessert, I had lemon creme brulee, which was served in a half of a lemon. Bill had a strawberry dessert served in a cookie crust with pistachio sauce. We had a round of espresso and, as we were paying the bill, enjoyed a digestive of limoncello.

The whole time we were dining, I noticed a bunch of people who appeared to be v-loggers outside, talking into cameras. A trio of girls, who looked like they were about sixteen or seventeen years old, were taking turns posing for the camera. One of the girls seemed to be particularly engaging. She had long, red, curly hair, and I noticed she was wearing a very stylish jacket. I would not be surprised if the girls had dreams of being models. However, although they were very pretty, they seemed a bit too short. But what do I know? They did look like they were having fun.

We closed down Il Sorrentino, and were the last ones to leave before they enjoyed a pause after the lunch rush. We continued walking toward the Eiffel Tower, which we hadn’t seen since 2009. I remember on that trip, I had been able to just walk under the tower without having to go through security. Now, they’ve got the area fenced off, and if you want to go in, you have to be screened. It is free to walk around the Eiffel Tower, though, and they have public toilets that are free of charge to use. We didn’t go in there until it was time for our visit. Instead, we did some people watching in the park. I noticed more people getting photos with the Eiffel Tower in the background. One girl was a dancer doing jetes while another woman took photos.

Later in the afternoon, we decided to look for a bar to enjoy a drink before we finally took our turn going up the tower. I couldn’t find exactly what we were looking for, but we did find a very busy restaurant called Brasserie de la Tour Eiffel, that served authentic French food– frogs legs, escargot, charcuterie, etcetera.

Of course we didn’t want to eat, but we were down for a couple of beers… I got a kick out of our very professional waiter, Philippe, who immediately gave us tokens for the toilet! This is not a spot where I’d want to have dinner, as it was very chaotic and touristy. However, it served fine as a place to enjoy drinks and people watch. And we lucked into having a great waiter, who wasn’t stereotypically rude or arrogant. It was fun watching people eat very stereotypically French cuisine, and I appreciated their selection of draft beers.

Below, outside the barrier to the tower… more people were dancing for cameras, and there were lots of Africans selling Eiffel Tower souvenirs. Or… I assume they were Africans. They looked the part.

Finally, it was time to head over to the Eiffel Tower and experience it for the first time. Since we already had tickets, we were able to get in a somewhat shorter line than those who still had to buy them. I believe it’s possible to go to the first floor of the tower, using the steps, without buying a ticket. We didn’t even visit the first floor, which is too bad. Below are a few 2009 era photos… Again, we didn’t go up the tower during that visit, because of the lines. But at that time, there wasn’t a barrier around the tower.

We crammed into an elevator, which took us to the second floor. I was immediately reminded of National Lampoon’s European Vacation and glad I wasn’t wearing a beret. I took many pictures of the magnificent evening views…

Then we found our way to the elevator to the top, crammed in, and up we went… Bill had neglected to print the last page of the tickets he bought, which was where the scanner code for the champagne was. Fortunately, he had it on his phone. Below are some photos at the top of the tower. I think the second floor may be better for photography, since you aren’t going to be behind a plastic barrier. But it was fun to be up there and get a view of Paris as evening set upon the city.

Our journey back to the second floor was uneventful. But then we got on the elevator to the ground floor, and that’s when things got especially entertaining.

A young woman with long brown hair and a beautifully made up face was running the elevator. She commanded that we all crowd in to the elevator together, and seemed a bit absent minded as she made an announcement that came out staticky. She apologized, and then said she’d be stopping on the first floor, for those who wanted to visit there.

Maybe one or two people got off, and she let one couple get on…. I’m not sure why, because she had told those waiting, that there was no room on the elevator for any more people, and they needed to go up a level. Even though she had clearly made that statement, one gentleman and his wife still tried to board.

The elevator operator then said, “I told you there is no room! Why do you not listen to me?! Go up a level, and my colleagues will take care of you!”

Everyone on the elevator was dying laughing at this lady, who was reprimanding the guy trying to board her elevator. She was so completely unabashed, telling off those folks who hadn’t paid her any mind. I happened to be standing next to her, and saw a peculiar mixture of amusement and befuddlement on her pretty face, and she fearlessly addressed the tourists. It was absolutely hilarious, and really capped off the experience for us!

Once we were finished with the tower, we decided it was time to go back to the hotel. But instead of walking, we took a taxi… Thank God for that! I accidentally connected the seatbelt to the wrong buckle, though, so the alarm was going off… and the taxi driver gently scolded me. Luckily, Bill was able to help me find the right buckle in the dark.

One last look at the majestic Eiffel Tower! I definitely recommend going at nighttime, if the weather permits.

So, now, this finally brings me to the next installment, which I will probably post tomorrow. Have a good Easter! We will be going out to lunch at Villa im Tal!

Below are some more Paris photos from 2009… We missed most of these spots on this trip. Paris is a VAST city. You could spend a week there and not see it all.

Brussels, Paris

Pardon My French: Brussels and Paris 2026 (part six)

On Wednesday, March 25th, Bill and I got up early, packed up our stuff, and had some breakfast. We had a date with the Eurostar train, which would take us from the Brussels Midi train station to the Paris Gare du Nord station. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the Eurostar train took over Thalys, which was the French and Belgian train company that used to handle trips between a network of cities in France and Belgium, along with a few places in Germany and the Netherlands.

Bill and I used Thalys when we took our trip to Brussels in 2008. I remembered it to be a comfortable train system, if not a bit less modern than the Deutsche Bahn trains. Our trip from Brussels to Paris would be fairly brief, and included a meal, since we were sitting in “Premier”, which is their version of first class.

Our stay at Le Fleur de Ville was prepaid, and we only had one drink each at their bar. We settled up and made our way to a taxi, which would spirit us to the big train station in Brussels. I wasn’t sorry to be leaving Brussels, although we did have a nice time. I was ready for a change of scenery, especially since the weather had turned cold and rainy.

The cab driver in Brussels was very kind and honest. I can’t remember what Bill paid for the fare, but the guy rounded down for us. I mention this because of what happened when we got to Paris. But we’ll get there. 😏

Thanks to our Premier tickets, we were allowed to use Eurostar’s lounge, which was in a building across a courtyard from the train station. The person who checked us in invited us to enjoy complimentary beverages and snacks, as well as plush seating in the lounge area. They played jazzy music and had handy screens available for monitoring the status of the trains. I think use of the lounge is the best reason for booking first class seats. It’s nice to be able to wait in a quiet place with seating, instead of milling around the train station.

Below are a couple of photos from the lounge. It has a bar, although it was too early in the day for it to be manned. There are also restrooms, although they needed to be stocked with toilet paper during our visit. Several people were doing work on their computers during our hourlong stay.

When it got close to our departure time, Bill and I walked to the Midi train station and found our way to the right track. We happened to get there just as our train was emptying out with passengers who had come to Brussels from Paris. After a brief wait, we boarded the train. I recognized the plush red seats– same ones I remembered from 2008. I looked up and saw the old Thalys branding. We didn’t find places to store our luggage between cars, so Bill and I had to hoist our suitcases onto the racks above our seats.

The train ride itself wasn’t very eventful, except for when I needed to use the toilet. For the life of me, I could not find the flusher! I looked all over for it and finally gave up. Thankfully, I only had to pee, and it seemed to go down the hole, anyway. Bill later said he found it, but it was in an obscure place. Maybe it was a foot pedal?

As I mentioned before, we got a meal included on our trip to Paris. I didn’t remember liking the food on Thalys in 2008. The same could be said for Eurostar’s offering in 2026. Bill said he did like the food. In our case, it was cold chicken breast with some exotic sides, cheeses, and dessert, as well as a beverage. I had champagne, which Bill had red wine. A vegetarian option was also offered. It wasn’t terrible, but I didn’t eat much of it, and I probably wouldn’t have ordered it on my own. Luckily, Bill was happy to eat my cheese course, because I don’t typically eat cheese unless it’s been melted and is very mild.

It was early afternoon when we arrived in Paris. As we made our way up the escalator at the busy Gare du Nord station, we made a rookie mistake. There were a bunch of people standing near the escalators, some of whom were holding up signs for arriving passengers. I had just muttered, “Now to find a taxi.” I didn’t think I’d said it very loudly, but maybe I did, because a friendly, but assertive man asked us if we needed a taxi.

Although it was against my better judgment, I found myself following the guy and Bill, who for some reason, agreed to use this man’s “services” to get us into the city. Paris transportation hubs are notoriously PLAGUED by scammers– especially when it comes to taxis. They pick up clueless tourists and rip them off. I wrote about this in the main blog, so if you want the story in detail, click here. I warn that I tend to be a lot more profane on the main blog.

Suffice to say, this guy who picked us up was an “unlicensed” driver. He did the usual con, claiming he didn’t have a working credit card machine, so he’d need cash. And he charged us way more than a licensed taxi driver would have. It was very annoying to be ripped off in that way, especially since the guy had the nerve to offer me unsolicited advice on avoiding being pickpocketed in Paris. 😡 But, on the positive side, he did get us to our hotel safely and quickly, and he didn’t try to rip us off for as much as I’ve read in some horror stories. And it’s unlikely we’ll ever make that mistake again, now that we know more about French law regarding taxis. At least we had euros, and didn’t miss the money as much as we might have when we were younger and poorer.

I booked us four nights in the Sapphire Suite at the Hotel L’ Eldorado, located in the Montmartre area of the city. The last time we were in Paris, back in 2009, Bill and I stayed at Hotel Le Six, which is in Montparnasse. We liked Hotel Le Six, but wanted to experience a different neighborhood. I also visited Paris in 1997, but I don’t remember where my sister and I stayed. I think we were in a no frills hotel somewhat close to the Eiffel Tower. I remember it was owned by Indians, and was quite nice, especially for the price. But that was a very long time ago.

In any case, when we checked in, Bill reminded the receptionist that we had reservations for dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. They confirmed our reservations, and then informed us that the elevator was out of order. The Sapphire Suite, which is one of the best rooms in the hotel, was on the fifth floor. Sigh…

Alas, I am not as young, fit, or thin as I once was. I am capable of climbing stairs, but it’s not my favorite thing to do. I do get a bit winded. I also hate it when I lead the way, because I feel pressure to go faster than I should. But we got to the room, which was covered in dark green, patterned velvet– the curtains, bed dressings, and walls were all done in the same funky style. I liked it, but I imagine it might cause sensory overload for some people.

The room had a sitting room connected by a hall to the compact bedroom. There were double doors that closed off the bedroom from the sitting room, which were a bit of a pain to deal with at night, when going to the potty.

There was a green marble bathroom with a sauna in it and a nice shower, as well as a separate water closet. The receptionist didn’t show us how to use the sauna, nor were there any printed instructions. I might have liked to try it out, but maybe it’s better that I didn’t. This was the second French hotel I’ve stayed in that had a sauna in the room. The other one was in Sessenheim, in rural Alsace.

I did like that the room had two balconies. One faced the little hidden garden at the back of the hotel. The other faced out into the street, and if you stood on it and looked East, you could see the Eiffel Tower. I took a photo, but zoomed in a lot… We were maybe a three to four mile walk from the Eiffel Tower, which we did undertake on Thursday.

As it was, Wednesday evening, Bill had an online class at the Jung Institute. That’s why we decided to have dinner in the hotel. It was good that we made reservations, although to be honest, I didn’t love what I ordered. Bill loved his dish. He had duck leg confit with beans. I had a sirloin faux filet with frites. My filet was cooked medium, but the meat was a bit tough.

Bill and I also had to trade starters, because I ordered soft set egg Meurette style, and it had mushrooms in it (I should have Googled before ordering). He ordered butternut squash and chestnut velouté, which was mushroom free. Again, not something I necessarily would have ordered for myself, but it was okay. We also enjoyed a lovely French wine, fresh bread, and champagne aperitifs. For dessert, I had profiteroles, and Bill had a red berry crumble with ice cream. Our waiter was very pleasant, but didn’t seem to speak English well. This became a problem at breakfast, later in the week. More on that in a subsequent post.

After dinner, we were both pretty tired, so we decided to go to bed. By the time we finished eating, the elevator was working again. I think the mood was kind of spoiled by the scammer and the broken elevator, but we figured a good night’s sleep would fix that issue.

Thursday was a big day for us, so I’ll write about that in the next post!

adventure, Middle East, Türkiye

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part six)

Featured photo is of the Istanbul Airport area as we flew over it.

Finally, Friday morning arrived, and it was time to go back to Germany. Specifically, we were going to be flying to Frankfurt, which is about a twenty minute drive from our house. As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I was a little worried about traffic getting to the airport, so I encouraged Bill to check us out of the hotel by about 9:00 AM for our 12:45 flight. Although the traffic wasn’t that bad going to the airport, it turned out to be a good call to get to the airport early, especially since Istanbul is not in the European Union.

On our last morning, a harpist came in and played soothing music. It was very pleasant. She played beautifully, and chose selections that were decidedly less weird than Bossa Nova versions of “Like A Virgin” and “Beat It”.

After breakfast, we went back to room 1711, packed up our bags and went back down to the reception. Bill swiftly settled up, and we were lucky enough that a cabbie was already waiting out front for a new fare, so we didn’t even have to wait for a taxi. The taxi driver was the only one of the three we used in Istanbul who was willing to take Turkish Lira. Well… the other two probably would have, too, but they clearly preferred euros.

A couple of views of the huge airport below… Technically, it’s still in Istanbul, but a good distance away from downtown.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Istanbul’s airport is quite new and HUGE, located about 30 minutes away from our hotel in Maslak. It’s not even fully built yet, either. When you enter the building, you have to go through a metal detector and put your bags through a scanner. This is in addition to the usual security procedures that you go through when you have a boarding pass. I probably need to read up more on security issues in the Republic of Türkiye.

We got through the first layer of security, and then had to find our respective baggage drops. Because I was flying business, I had to go to a separate counter in a different area than the economy bag drop. I don’t know how Bill’s experience was, but mine was impressive. I had to ask someone where the business class drop was, and he said it was section “L”. I wonder if the “L” was for luxe… Bill’s drop was in section “B”, I think.

Anyway, the Turkish Airlines business class counter is in its own area that sort of has its own lounge before you even get to the business class lounge! I walked right up to a man who spoke English, noticing that there was no red carpet in the Istanbul Airport for business class passengers. 😉 The guy patiently waited a few minutes while I found my Turkish Airlines Miles and Smiles number. He entered the data for me, tagged my bag, and directed me to the business class lounge, which I opted not to use. Bill would not be able to go in there with me.

We made our way through the second layer of security, which involved the usual metal detector and putting our carry on stuff through an x-ray scanner. Then we walked through the first of many shopping venues. Istanbul Airport has a lot of really high end shops, but also plenty of places to get souvenirs and a bite to eat. I was impressed by the number of restaurants. They kind of put Frankfurt Airport to shame.

One thing I noticed in the airport, as well as in Istanbul in general, was a lack of seating in public areas. Because there weren’t many places to sit and we had some time before our flight, Bill and I decided to have something at an Italian cafe. I ended up having avocado toast on sourdough with two poached eggs, salad, and a big glass of orange juice. Bill had a latte. The lady who waited on us invited us to sit at a four top table, rather than the two top we’d originally chosen. I appreciated that very much! It was considerate of her to do that for us.

*This was 9 euros, but it was fresh, satisfying, and delicious!*

After we had our break at the Italian cafe, enough time had passed for us to make our way to the gate. But as we headed over there, we stopped at a store to pick up some Turkish Delight, magnets, and dried apricots for Bill’s daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids, and a couple of boxes of chocolate and a magnet for us.

While Bill was making his purchases, I was noticing some really interesting looking restaurants, a couple of which were U.S. based and not available in Germany! But there was also a place that had what appeared to have Anatolian cuisine. If we go back through Istanbul by plane, we’ll have to check it out.

After a lengthy and somewhat confusing walk to Gate 9 AB, Bill and I waited until it was time to board. This time, the plane was there on time, and boarding was relatively easy. I had chosen seat 5F, a change from my original choice of 2E. I wanted to sit by a window, and it looked like no one was sitting in seat 5E. Of course, it turned out that a married couple had taken the aisle seats in row 5. That was no big deal at all. There was so much room on the plane! I was, once again, simply amazed by it! Between my seat and the other seat was a large console. And, on this flight, we had entertainment monitors on the seat backs in front of us.

*You can’t tell, but my foot is NOT touching that seat in front of me. I have my leg fully extended. I’m about 5’2″ tall.*

Unfortunately, the service on this flight was not as good as it was on the flight from Frankfurt to Istanbul. It was competent enough, I guess… but noticeably less warm and attentive. It’s probably best to write about this in a list form… and I might sound a bit difficult. But, keep in mind that we spent $1500 on my round trip short haul ticket. For that amount of money, I do expect good service, rather than just competent service. So, here’s my list of complaints.

Pre-departure drinks

Once again, the flight attendant, a rather young and cocky looking male, came around with juices. He didn’t immediately offer the same selection of juices as the flight attendant did on the way to Istanbul. He did have all of the same juices available, but he didn’t initially offer all of them, nor did he identify them. And my orange juice didn’t have a slice of orange in it, as it did on the way down. It’s not a big deal at all, but I did notice it.

2. No Menus

On the flight to Istanbul, the flight attendants handed out printed menus that explained everything that was going to be offered with the in flight meals. There was a list of available drinks, and each meal choice was described, although not very thoroughly. I appreciate menu descriptions, because there are a few things I can’t eat. On this flight, I only saw a few people up front get menus.

3. No verbal description of the meal

When it came time to place my order, the same male flight attendant asked me if I wanted fish or beef, or one of the meals offered to the economy class, chicken or pasta. There were no descriptions. He didn’t even tell me what kind of fish was being offered. I did end up selecting the fish, while the people next to me both had the pasta, which I noticed they nicely plated for business class, rather than just giving them the plastic containers that the people in economy got.

The meal itself was okay. The starter was smoked salmon with some kind of slaw and a single shrimp on it. There was also cheese, eggplant salad, bread and butter, and a delicious chocolate eclair. The fish turned out to be some kind of dense fleshy variety– maybe swordfish or shark. It might have been sea bass. I honestly don’t know, because the flight attendant didn’t bother to tell me, or apologize for the lack of a menu. There’s a big difference between trout, salmon, and tuna, you know.

4. Bread service and wine

The same flight attendant brought around a bread basket with warm breads. He barely showed me what was in the basket and asked me to point to which roll I wanted. I tried to point to the one I preferred, but he just gave me a random one. It was pretty perfunctory and not impressive at all. He brought me some wine, but never bothered to ask if I wanted water or something else.

Again, not anything earth shatteringly bad, but it was noticeably poorer service than his colleagues on the other flight, who were obviously more interested in doing their jobs properly. And when I finished the wine, it took him a long time to come back and collect the empty glass. He picked it up when he brought out the bags of hazelnuts.

5. Attitude

That particular male flight attendant seemed pretty much over his job. He was outwardly a bit rude to me. When we were descending into Frankfurt, I was leaning forward in my seat and he demanded, “Madame, do you have your seat belt on?” I assured him I did, and instead of smiling, saying “thank you”, and being friendly, he just sort of smirked at me and almost rolled his eyes. By that point, I was getting pretty exasperated with his not too subtly concealed asshole behavior.

His colleague seemed much friendlier and more sympathetic, but she spent a long time assisting a gentleman a couple of rows in front of me. I wondered what her male colleague’s problem was. Was it me? Did I specifically do something to offend him? Or does he just want the perks of being a flight attendant, without actually doing his job properly?

Maybe he doesn’t like fat, middle-aged, American women traveling alone in business class. Perhaps I should have heeded Trump’s Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy’s advice to dress up for my flight. Or maybe he just isn’t generally suited to the service oriented jobs that require interacting with the public with kindness and consideration. I’ll bet he would never take it upon himself to pre-emptively clean and deodorize the lavatory for me after a windy fellow passenger had used it, though, as his colleague did for me on the way to Istanbul.

I busied myself taking more pictures of the clouds… I liked that the airline’s WiFi worked, as did the monitors showing our progress from Istanbul to Frankfurt.

Overall

I thought it was a good flight and I am impressed by Turkish Airlines. I would definitely fly them again, if the opportunity arises. Their business class product is mostly better than Lufthansa’s– at least when it comes to the actual seat and leg room. But that flight attendant who was looking after me was a bit of an asshole, in my opinion. I don’t think I did anything to warrant his snarky, inattentive, half-assed behavior. And at $1500 for a ticket, I do expect better service than what he delivered… even if it does make me sound like a high maintenance prima donna.

We landed in Frankfurt about 20 or 30 minutes early, so we had to wait about ten minutes before we could park the plane and disembark. Once we did that, I got off the plane as quickly as I could. I needed to find a loo. But first, I had to go through passport control. The young German police officer sitting in the booth asked me what I was doing in Germany. I said, “I live here. There’s a SOFA card at the back of my passport.” He quickly found the card and waved me through, but not before giving me a charming smile when I said “Dankeschön” to him. The cocky flight attendant could take a lesson from the passport control guy. 😉

I felt a little sorry for the guy who was on the other side of the booth. He was getting the third degree from passport control about his decision to enter the European Union. They were asking him about his profession and his citizenship status. Yikes!

It took some time to get our bags. Mine came out early, but Bill’s was not removed from the aircraft until near the end of the line. But then, he WAS in the cheap seats.

We got a taxi home, and I was soon left sitting there bewildered at our whirlwind trip to the Middle East. I’m now especially glad I went with Bill, even though we didn’t do as much as I had hoped we would. It turns out he has to leave again on Sunday. He’s got to fly to the United States and work there next week. I’ll be all alone, buying Christmas presents. I wish I’d had a chance to buy some art in Türkiye, but maybe another opportunity will arise and we can do some proper shopping. And maybe next time, Bill can join me in business class. I’ll bet that cocky twerp flight attendant would not have acted the way he did if Bill had been with me. 🤨

Anyway, so ends the “blow by blow” account of my quick trip to Istanbul. I’ll soon do my usual “ten things I learned” post to end this series. Stay tuned!

adventure, Middle East, short breaks, Türkiye, YouTube

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part five)

At last, it was finally Thursday, the day I knew Bill would be finishing work early, and we could go to Taksim and see a more tourist friendly area of Istanbul. My friend Elaine and I stayed in Taksim when we visited Istanbul in 1996. We spent our first night in Aksaray, which is on the Asian side of Istanbul. That was where our bus from Armenia dropped us off, and we were too exhausted to look for a hotel on the European side. Then, after a night of rest, we moved to Taksim, which is a bit more modern. I didn’t know any of this when Elaine and I went there. She had done the research.

I remembered Taksim, and told Bill we should head there on Thursday. If anything, I could see Istiklal Avenue– the big shopping street I spent a lot of time on, back in 1996. I have a photo from our visit in 1996… and now I have one from 2025. I will post them both, so you can see the differences 29 years away makes! For now, here’s a 35 second video I made of life on Istiklal Avenue. It’s VERY busy… And yet, it was also so familiar, as Elaine and I stayed at Hotel Avrupa, cheap lodging not too far from this bustling area when we visited in 1996. I wish Bill and I could have stayed there last week, because it is a much better area for seeing the city.

I was hoping to catch the ice cream vendor teasing kids, but I wasn’t lucky enough… Now we have a reason to go back.

Bill got back to the hotel at around noon. We made our way to the metro station, which was a short walk from the Hilton Istanbul Maslak. Once again, I was struck by how crowded the area was, as the station teemed with people and noise. I am pretty sure Elaine and I used the metro when we visited Istanbul in 1996, but my mind has probably blanked out actual memories of it.

It’s super easy to use the metro in Istanbul. It’s clean and cheap. In fact, even the ticket machine is easy to use, with an English option that talks to you with a empathetic sounding female American voice, reassuring you that your purchase has been successful. Bill bought us tickets good for three rides. I think it cost the Turkish Lira equivalent of about $4. Below are a couple of photos I took in the metro station while Bill was getting his bearings.

The train we got on was pretty full. We stood for the entire journey to Taksim, which was about six stops away. I got a kick out of the signs stuck to the windows, letting riders know that manspreading is not allowed!

*Make room for others by keeping your legs closed!*

Once we got to Taksim, I heard the familiar sounds of a busker, who was skillfully playing a qanun. I didn’t manage to get a clip of him, but below is a video of someone playing a qanun beautifully in an Istanbul metro station.

For all I know, this was the same guy I heard…

I wish I could have taken a moment to listen longer to the busker, but the station was very crowded and busy, and we were kind of pushed out of there. Besides, I wanted to see if Taksim was how I remembered it. Below are some photos…

*I did remember the many people selling corn on the cob in Istanbul!*

By the time we walked around a bit in Taksim, I was pretty hungry. I paused for just a second near a restaurant and suddenly found myself being harassed by a very aggressive barker. He kept trying to talk to me, trying to entice me to his restaurant. He begged, “Lady, lady… speak to me. Which language?” He tried German, Spanish, English, and French. I cast a dour look at him and walked away. I don’t like it when random people aggressively accost me, trying to score business. It’s a sure sign what they’re selling is likely to suck.

A couple of minutes later, I stopped at another restaurant called Wama’s. They had a large, colorful menu that offered all kinds of food– everything from pasta to tacos! And when I approached, the proprietor was calm and welcoming, so we went in and enjoyed a lovely meal. I had a crispy chicken salad with apples, beets, corn, greens, and tomatoes, and Bill had beef kofre with fries, hummus, and yogurt. My salad was huge and excellent, while Bill said his beef was good, but a little bit “processed”, like it came from a preformed patty. Still, it was a nice lunch. I washed mine down with orange juice, while Bill had a ginger lemonade. I really like the many fruit juices one can enjoy in Turkey!

*This cat was sitting in the outdoor area. Istanbul has many well fed feral cats! Some of them are very friendly.*

I went upstairs to use the ladies room and was amused to find that there was a prayer room offered. Actually, many of the places we visited had prayer rooms, including our hotel. On the airplane, there was even an arrow on the entertainment system pointing in the direction of Mecca. I didn’t see an arrow in our hotel room, as I did when we stayed at the Jumeirah Hotel in Frankfurt (which is now a Marriott), but Bill said it might have been in one of the bed stand drawers.

After lunch, we decided to visit the Church of Sant’Antonio da Padova on Istiklal Avenue. I got some photos of the inside, which was full of people doing the same. I’m sure this church was there in 1996, but I swear I don’t remember it…

We decided to head back the other way down the avenue, as I wanted to change directions and walk toward the Bosphorus Strait, which divides the European and Asian sides of Istanbul, as well as the Black Sea from the Sea of Marmara. I thought I remembered the way, and I kind of did… but we still ended up in a part of town that was unfamiliar. Below are some more photos of the big shopping street, as well as a comparison of views from 1996 and 2025…

1996 vs 2025… I wasn’t standing in exactly the same spot last week, but if you look closely, you can see some of the same buildings. Wendy’s hasn’t been in Turkey since 1998!

Once we got to the end of Istiklal Avenue, we turned right, and walked almost all the way down a street, passing signs for the Aga Hamami, which is the oldest hamam in Istanbul. It was constructed in 1454! My back was killing me, so I kind of wished we could pay a visit. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time. As we were walking, the Taksim area faded into a residential area, and we were going downhill on uneven pavement. My back was really aching and I was getting a little tired and cranky.

I told Bill that we should plan to take a taxi back to the hotel. He was a bit dismayed, but I said that unless we found a metro station close to where we ended up, I was probably going to run out of steam. I couldn’t see us walking back to the Taksim station, which was by that point a few miles away! So he reluctantly agreed, as I passed him the many euros he gave me the last time he had to go TDY without me. I never spend all the money he gives me for groceries when he goes out of town, and I usually end up giving it all back to him! 🤭 Then I said we could keep walking if he wanted, because there was a lot more to see…

We followed a couple of Turkish guys into a complex that was some kind of museum for the arts, where we got a view of the Galata Tower. But then we were on a very busy street that led to an even busier street near the museum of modern art and the cruise port. That area was definitely very posh and not at all like Maslak! It was near the museum where I found a much needed park bench. It was good that we found that, not just because my back needed a rest, but also because we were soon in for a really interesting spectacle.

I heard the sounds of many birds, which mostly turned out to be seagulls. A man was feeding them, and hundreds of the hungry birds converged on the square near the museum and mosque. It was fascinating to watch, as seagulls played tug of war over food, and a couple of cats tried to get in on the action! Another man, who was off camera, was literally feeding other birds by hand. I got some video footage and a lot of photos, only a few of which I shared below.

Seagulls going crazy over food!

We finally got bored with the birds and decided to walk closer to the water. We passed the very expensive Peninsula Hotel Istanbul, which I noticed also had a metal detector and x-ray scanner in the lobby. Then I heard an infectious percussive beat. Some young man was busking, playing a mean rhythm while other men fished, and people walked around… I noticed he was making lots of lira from appreciative tourists.

He’s got some talent!

I got some photos of the Bosphorus Strait, noticing that across the water, there was a whole lot more of Istanbul to see… and sadly, my middle aged body wasn’t having it. We noticed a taxi stand near the cruise port, and decided to head toward there. It was a good thing, too, because Bill was starting to feel the urge to whiz…

When Bill asked a cabbie how much the ride to Maslak was going to be, he said 35 euros. For some reason, the cabbies prefer euros to Turkish money… 😉 (of course I know why– it’s a more stable currency). We started the rush hour ride back to Maslak. It was about 13 kilometers, but it took an hour! The metro probably would have been faster, but we would have had to walk to one, which would have taken time and energy we couldn’t spare. The cab ride turned out to be fortuitous, because I got more photos, and the cabbie entertained us by using Google Translate to communicate. He didn’t speak English, so he typed his Turkish comments into Google and showed us the translations. It was pretty funny!

The cab ride also gave me a perspective of just how loud, crowded, and busy Istanbul really is. It’s a HUGE city, bustling with energy and action, and unless you have a lot of time and stamina, it’s hard to really do it justice. But the cab ride ended up being more expensive, because we were in traffic for so long. Bill gave the guy 60 euros, when all was said and done… and yes, that is probably more than he needed to, but we felt sorry for the cab driver. It was a long way from the cruise port, and we basically crawled back in very heavy gridlock traffic! I’m sure he missed out on easier fares.

Once we got back to the hotel for our last night, we decided to have one more drink at the bar. I noticed they’d put up even more Christmas decorations and fenced off the big tree in the foyer. I also got a kick out of the fake presents that were kind of poorly wrapped. I don’t know much about Turkish customs, but I do remember giving my former Armenian student a birthday gift. He was amused because I had wrapped it in pretty paper. I don’t know that gift wrapping is a “thing” that part of the world. Since most Turks are Muslims, I’m sure it’s not there, either.

As I enjoyed a Hendricks gin and tonic, properly garnished with cucumber, one of Bill’s colleagues showed up. We were talking about other parts of Turkey we’d seen. Bill hasn’t been to those parts yet, but I’ll bet he’ll get the chance. Now that he’s been there, I think he would like to go back. He did tell me that it would have been permissible to stay in a different part of Istanbul, so if we’d been able to find a hotel in his budget in Taksim, we could have stayed there. That’s good to know, in case we get the chance to go back there.

Bill’s co-worker said he was going to take an early flight back to Germany. He reminded me of the traffic woes, so I told Bill that we should probably leave the hotel several hours before we needed to board the plane. After the crawl back to the hotel on Thursday, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be safe. Because as much as I enjoyed our trip to Turkey, I was ready to go home to Germany and see my dogs!

One more post ought to do it for the blow by blow, and then I’ll do my ten things I learned post. Stay tuned!

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Celebrating 14 years in Ireland! Part three

The first taxi in line at the airport made an immediate impression. On the back window of the cab, there was a Confederate flag. Next to it, there was a X-wing Fighter Squadron sign. Not being a fan of Star Wars, I didn’t notice the other sign. Likewise, Bill didn’t notice the flag, but did see the Star Wars reference.

I posted about seeing the Confederate battle flag on Facebook and quite a few of my American friends were shocked and dismayed. However, I get the impression that Europeans who admire that flag don’t associate it with racism the way many Americans do. I have seen that flag displayed in other European countries. In fact, last year I saw it prominently displayed at an Italian rest stop. One of my friends, who is himself Italian, explained that some Europeans see the flag as more of a symbol of rebellion than racism. A Swedish friend agreed.

Along with having interesting decorations on his taxi, our cab driver turned out to be quite a good reader of people. After welcoming us to Ireland, he quickly realized Bill had been in the military and said, “Happy Veteran’s Day.” Then he and Bill had an entertaining discussion about the Irish military versus the U.S. military. The cabbie served three years in the Irish Army and said he’d hated it, although he claimed to be fascinated by all things military.

When Bill started talking, the cab driver pegged Bill as a retired Master Sergeant and was shocked when Bill told him he’d retired as a Lieutenant Colonel. The driver explained that in the Irish military, there’s a huge, discernible difference between officers and enlisted personnel and it all comes from how they carry themselves. Apparently, in Ireland, officers are snobs. Or so he told us, anyway. It was an eye opener to hear the cab driver’s impressions of American military members, though on the whole, he did seem to be pretty positive.

Naturally, the cab driver, along with many other people we’ve met so far, also had comments about our recent shocking election results. I don’t remember everything he said, though, because by that point I was exhausted and had a terrible headache. I do remember him talking about how very safe Dublin is and how much he loves his city, as well as his country. It was nice to hear.

We soon reached the Marker Hotel, where a man in a top hat opened the cab door for me. I hadn’t been expecting that level of service, so it took me off guard. We checked into the hotel, where a smiling lady with an eastern European accent welcomed us and convinced us to upgrade our room to a deluxe. I’m not sure it was worth the extra money to get the deluxe room, but we were tired and weak from travel. We also got breakfast included, which at 21,50 euros a person was a bit ridiculous. For those who are thinking about booking the Marker Hotel, I’ll just say that the buffet breakfast at the hotel is fine, but there is a nearby Starbuck’s if you want a less expensive option for breakfast. As for the hotel, it offers an enormous buffet with hot and cold items, as well as raw honey of all things. They actually have a honeycomb on the buffet!

Our deluxe room was nice enough with its view of a big theater and the Bank of Ireland. It had a marble bathroom and a well appointed minibar, as well as a very comfortable bed and flatscreen TV. WiFi was completely free and unfettered. It was fast and reliable.

A few shots of the hotel room…

The bed was a sight for sore eyes!

Nice welcome from the hotel on the TV.

Dinner the first night. It was just what I needed.

Part of the large breakfast spread.

This is a crappy photo, but it’s a picture of the honeycomb. You can just take a piece and chew it. Or you can take some of the raw honey from the bowl below it. I tried some this morning and it was delicious.

We were too tired and I had too much of a headache to go searching for dinner, so we ordered room service. While we ate ginger carrot soup, Irish soda bread, and brownies with ice cream, we watched a very interesting British television show about police officers. I would say it was roughly akin to Cops. I am fascinated by all things police related. One thing I noticed was that it seemed like the police on the show were more civil than a lot of American cops seem to be. But given how ready for bed I was, I didn’t take too much time to think about that too much.

After we ate, Bill and I crashed hard. We had big plans for Saturday that involved a trip to Kilkenny, where we’d be visiting the Smithwick’s Experience, a tour I prebooked after buying tickets to the Guinness Experience in Dublin. Kilkenny is about 90 minutes from Dublin by train and the trains to and from there don’t run constantly. Consequently, we knew we needed to be at the train station in time to catch the 10:15 coach heading south. That train ride, as well as the tour, turned out to be a lot more fun than we thought it would be. More on that in part four!

The view from our room.

Bill enjoys the Irish Times. It came with the room. He said it was “hilarious”.

The Traveling Overeducated Housewife

…the wanderings and ramblings of a boring housewife…

Tag Archives: taxis

Pardon My French: Brussels and Paris 2026 (part seven)

Pardon My French: Brussels and Paris 2026 (part six)

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part six)

A quick jaunt to Istanbul… (part five)

Celebrating 14 years in Ireland! Part three