The Long Rocky Road Home

 

And continuing with the theme of little annoyances …

As I was packing up my stuff to leave the hotel, I broke the spoon rest I’d been using since Porto.  That thing lasted a whole year of travel and I break it in Georgia.  Nice.  I’m still going to use it though.

The flight I’d booked out of the country would take me to Philly and then onto Lisbon.  I actually prefer this method of getting out of the U.S. as it makes the transatlantic flight shorter (6 hours as opposed to the direct flight out of Türkiye that took 12 hours).  A good choice … except the flight got delayed.  Twice.  Then, for the first time ever in my traveling life, my flight got cancelled. 

Awesome!  Now what?

At least I’d already had a surprisingly good BBQ chicken pizza (served in a paper bag -- okay) so that I wasn’t starving during the delays.

I got into the very long line of disgruntled passengers for the front desk and heaved a great sigh.  I stood there for about 5-10 minutes, getting more annoyed as the through line for foot traffic was right in front of me, when my phone started pinging.  American Airlines had already rebooked me so there was no need to stand in line.  That was the good news.

The bad news was that instead of going to Philly, I was now headed to O’Hare (that airport is spooky), and Heathrow (yay!  Another stressful run-in with security!), on the way to Lisbon.  This route also meant that I would be too late to make my separate flight to Faro Airport and would have to rebook that one on my own.

Have I mentioned lately that I’m really tired of moving around so much?  That it’s the airports and the crowds, the waiting and the expense that is really getting on my nerves?  

I managed to get through O’Hare at a run so I wouldn’t notice the creepiness and quickly boarded my flight.  In Heathrow, my already tired self got into the stupidly long line for security and prepared for another hassle.  When my computer bag wasn’t flagged, I said Hallelujah so loud the woman next to me snickered.  Lady, you have no idea what I’ve gone through in this airport.

Happily, I arrived in Lisbon, an airport I know so well now I can maneuver around with ease. I was equally happy to see that my two checked bags made it to Lisbon with me (the cancelled flight had me worried). Except … where is the ticket booth for Tap Portugal?  I see the dedicated area for checking in bags, but what about arranging for a new flight?

After wandering around for a while, a woman pointed me in the right direction.  I got to the desk and explained my situation only to be told that the next flight was at 11 p.m. (it was around 3 in the afternoon) and for the privilege of waiting around in the airport for hours, I’d have to pay them another 150 euros.  Seriously?  For a 45-minute flight?

Titanically heavy sigh.

After being extorted, I got my ticket and grabbed a quick meal before heading to security.  This should be a breeze, right?  I mean, I’d traveled across the pond with everything intact and even avoided a long search at Heathrow.  So, nao faz mal (no worries in Portuguese), right?

Except … both of my bags had been checked for the overseas flight.  In order to do that, I had to shift some weight from the large roller bag to the small one.  One of the things I moved over was my big bottle of leave-in conditioner that I can’t get anywhere except from Amazon.  I’d also just filled it up so it was nice and full.

It’s trash now.  Thanks, Portuguese Security!

And I still had an hours-long wait for my flight.  I’d arrive in Faro after 11 after all the shuttle services were closed.  That meant another 100-euro taxi ride to the apartment – which the guy couldn’t even locate at first. And neither could I.

I mentioned in a previous post that the Google Fi service on my phone recently switched my home region from the U.S. to Portugal.  As expected, the service no longer worked in the U.S.  No big deal.  I’m still not a big phone user and most of the time I could just hook up to the hotel Wi-Fi if I needed anything.

Well, I’m back in my beloved Portugal.  Does my phone have full functionality in what is supposed to be my home country?  Nope.  I kept switching from Google Fi to the Esim I’ve been able to use in Cyprus, Türkiye, and Portugal and only the Esim will connect.  What am I paying Google Fi for again?  Oh, right.  Just to annoy and piss me off.

Just … why … this is ... I don’t even know.

The beauty part?  After all that, I finally did make it to the apartment in Portimão and I FREAKING LOVE PORTIMAO! I am very happy to be back here.  I couldn’t book the pink palace where I stayed for two months last year, but I scored a month in the other apartment I stayed in which is almost as good. 

 

And it's a good thing I like this apartment as I've spent more time inside than I'd planned.  The first week was marred with off and on rain almost every day.  The mornings would be sunny and glorious, then by the time I was ready to go out for a walk and lunch, the torrential rains would come.  Kind of annoying.

On one of the days I finally could get out, I went to the beach (of course).  After a long walk, I stopped by a restaurant I liked by the water.  As soon as I sat down, a waitress came over to remove the other 3 place settings.  She looked at me and said “Caipirinha?  Mr. T?”  I just stared at her.  The drink order was correct, but I didn’t recognize the Mr. T part.  I got the menu and noticed that Mr. T was their 30-euro steak entry.  Not what I ordered last time but similar to the steak that I did order.

THE WOMAN REMEMBERED MY FACE AND ORDER FROM 4 MONTHS AGO!!!  HOW?!  WHY?!

The waitstaff I’ve met on my travels have been wonderful.  They’re also a little scary.

Something else scary.  A little over a week after I arrived in Portimão, Heathrow was shut down because of a power outage.  Being a major hub, this disrupted travel for thousands of people.  It might take weeks to recover full function.  It looks like I slipped through just in time.

London’s Heathrow Airport closure causes global travel disruption

Short-Timing Istanbul

 

In travel, as in life, it’s the little annoyances that add up to a huge pain in the ass.

That pain started back in February while I was happily in Cyprus.  The renewal notice for my P.O. Box in the states was up for the year.  Okay.  I tried to log in to pay the bill, but my account had been disabled.  Okay.  Contacted USPS to get it enabled – never got a response.  Great.  Decided, screw it, I’ll send them a check and hope for the best.

Two weeks later, the check hadn’t cleared.  The expiration date on my contract was the last day of February, but the USPS gives you a grace period of ten days after that.  Tried calling the office in Georgia for confirmation that they had at least received the check even if they hadn’t cashed it and never got an answer.  As the date rapidly approached, I tried to open a new account and pay that way.  Nope.  The new account would only turn on automatic payments going forward – it would not allow me to pay the existing bill.

So, now what?

By this time, I had moved on to Istanbul with every intention of staying there until my visa expired in 90 days.  Now, with no other options that I could see and not wanting to risk having the box shut down and all my mail reforwarded, I was left with choice of last resort.

Sigh.

I did not want to return to the States … um … ever.  But certainly not so soon.  I’d just gotten off a plane and felt like my time in Türkiye passed way too quickly.  It didn’t help that the great apartment I’d landed in wasn’t available past the week, so I would have to move anyway.  Just getting out of the apartment was difficult enough in itself.

I mentioned in the last post that my most recent place couldn’t be found on Google Maps.  Apparently, that holds true for Uber as well.  Why does the GPS show my exact location but the driver has stopped a few blocks away?   We tried to message each other to connect, but I finally gave up and just started walking …

With all my crap, up a steep hill covered in uneven cobblestones.  Oy.  Fortunately, the cab/Uber pulled up behind me, so I didn’t have to go too far up that hill.

We had an easy trip to the airport.  I got out of the car and thanked him Turkish only for him to tell me that I owed him 2000 (about $50) lira.  Huh?  I’d used Uber to call him which means that my card would be charged.  I figured there had been a problem with the card as this had never happened to me before. He insisted I owed him money, taking out his calculator and showing me the amount.  I had no money on me – what the hell was I supposed to do?

The nearest ATM was inside, past the security scanners.  So, yes, leaving my luggage with the cabbie, I had to wade through security to get to the machine.  Cash in hand, I dashed back out only to find that the cab had disappeared.  This wasn’t a complete shock as I know you can only park in the drop-off area for a short time. But … where is he?

I wandered around for a good five minutes, getting increasingly upset and annoyed.  Finally, I spotted the guy and paid him.  It felt like paying off a kidnapper to get my luggage back, but I was so grateful he returned that I let it slide.

Thinking I’d resolve the issue later, I went through the usual rigmarole at the airport.  While I like Turkish Airlines and would prefer to just get a transatlantic trip over with as quickly as possible, I still had to prepare my butt for another 12-hour ride.

And that was a fun one, stuck in an aisle seat next to an elderly couple.  Any time the woman said anything, the man’s response was “Huh? Huh?”.  I didn’t know if he was hard of hearing or if he’d just learned to tune out his wife’s voice over the years.

Still irritated by the Uber issue, returning to the states, and the whole reason for the return in the first place, my first choice of in-flight entertainment didn’t help matters.  I’m a big Marvel fan and saw most of the movies in theatre through Avengers: Endgame.  I loved the first Deadpool movie and thought the second one was okay.  I was actually looking forward to seeing Deadpool and Wolverine … until the first scene.  I knew instantly that I wasn’t going to like the movie.  I was wrong.  I hated that movie.

It made my already bad mood truly take a nosedive.  I watched Inside Out 2 to try to lift my spirits.  It was okay.  Not nearly as good as the first movie, but it made for decent entertainment.

Back in the states and thrilled as always, I managed to get a shuttle directly to the rental car center.  Saved me a trip on the tram so that was some good news.  Not nearly enough to mitigate the outrageous price of car rental, but I’ll take what little perks I can get.

I drove the black Genesis car to the hotel.  Never even heard of this car company before and I’m not impressed.  The steering wheel would periodically jerk the car to the side, much to my chagrin while navigating the dark wet streets of Atlanta. 

I was back in the hotel I’d visited several times over the last two years only because I couldn’t find an Airbnb that I liked.  The two apartments I’d visited before and liked were both booked while the others were too far away or too remote for me to even try to locate in the dark when I was tired.  The hotel was in a brightly lit area and easy to get to.  The free breakfast was still tasty despite the exorbitant price of the hotel room.

Once I’d gotten settled in the hotel, it was onto handling business.  The main reason for my trip had been resolved before I’d even arrived.  One of the first things I pulled out of my mailbox was the receipt for the check.  My P.O. Box was secure for another year.  Whew.

H&R block confirmed that I wouldn’t have to file a tax return this year since I STILL have no money coming in.  That was some good news, but the joy only lasted for a minute.  Turns out, my card was charged for the Uber ride to Istanbul Airport.  What the hell?  That means the guy just mugged me. 

I put in a complaint with Uber and they asked for a screenshot to prove I’d taken cash out at the airport.  Tried to do that and my phone wouldn’t allow it.  Seriously!?  Normally, I would just log in on my laptop, but the bank’s website had been blocked on my machine for over a year.  I had tried to get the issue resolved on one of my previous trips to the states to no avail.

The little annoyances.  Remember? 

The issue is still unresolved because I just ran out of steam to try to get it fixed.  With a writing career going nowhere, an online business that is just bleeding money with no returns yet, and a steadily dwindling bank account, I just don’t have the bandwidth for any more challenges.

I am so tired of being frustrated.

Istanbul Awaits

 

If you get a chance to spend a winter in Cyprus, I do recommend it.  The beaches are mostly deserted, the weather is sunny and in the low 60’s most of the time, and it’s just a nice welcoming place.  I truly love it there.

But it was time again.  My 90-day visa was about to expire and, as my Schengen days haven’t quite reset yet, I decided to head back to Türkiye (surprise!).

Why there is no direct flight from Cyprus to Istanbul is baffling to me.  It’s right there! Instead, you’re expected to fly to Athens and get to Türkiye from there.  Even that was more difficult to book than it should have been. 

You can fly from Cyprus directly to Heathrow because, as I’ve mentioned before, the island is full of Brits.  You know where else you can fly directly to from Cyprus?  Warsaw, Poland.  Who’da thunk it?

So then this was the flight I booked, one that took me all the way up to Poland (hey!  A new country!), then all the way back down to Istanbul.  Makes no sense, but at least the trip went off without a hitch.

By this point, I’ve been to Istanbul numerous times.  I always take a cab as I usually get to the city pretty late and the Metro is closed (not that I’ve had much luck riding it anyway).  The cost to Balat (approx. 25 miles away) is around 1000-1400 lira (approx. $30-$40 USD).  Why then did the first cabbie I meet quote me 2300 lira ($60)?  Are you kidding me?  I realize that it was after midnight and they had me over a barrel, but that price is ridiculous!

After fumbling around for a bit and trying to get an Uber, I ran into a guy who offered to take me in his shuttle.  The price he quoted was the expected 1400 lira, but since that was all I had in my purse, I went to search for more cash just in case.  The first ATM was empty.  Great.  I went inside only to see the security set up to scan anyone entering the airport with no other access.  Sigh.

Back outside, I tried to hit Uber again.  The problem there was two-fold.  The first problem was that the address given by my host was not in Google maps so I couldn’t give Uber a proper address.  I would normally stay in one of Mehmet’s places in the neighborhood but since they were all booked, I chose a new place.  I called for an Uber anyway and thought we’d figure it out on the way.

The second problem arose when the driver messaged me to let me know that the airport doesn’t allow Uber to pick up in front of the arrivals gate.  Why?  As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, the Ubers in Türkiye are also taxis (taksis) so what’s the big deal?  Instead, I would have to go to him.

Walk through the long hall with the moving sidewalks to the Metro.  Take the elevator at the end – except, since the Metro was closed, the elevators didn’t work.  Cool.  Take the escalator – which also didn’t seem to work until I approached it and then it woke up. Try to get both roller bags and my tired self on the escalator at the same time.  Fail miserably and let the big roller bag slide down the metal stairs.  Well, better it than me.  I managed to make it down safely to see the cab waiting outside.

Oy.

I tried to tell the cabbie about the address issue and he didn’t have a better time finding the address than I did.  We got to Balat (yay!) and pulled up to an apartment.  He got my stuff out but, sweet man that he is, he again checked the address.  We both realized, on a narrow Turkish street at 2 in the morning, that we were at the wrong place.  Beautiful.

I then checked the message my host had sent me.  Now I know why he included pictures of the place and a separate link to a map.  Dude knew that Google maps didn’t acknowledge the address.  Following these new directions, we actually made it to the right place.  I will be forever grateful to that cabbie for not wanting to strand a foreign woman at the wrong address in the dark.  That man earned every penny of his tip.

The entrance was a new thing for me.  The metal gate can only be accessed by a keypad.  Funny thing, though, you have reach through the bars to get to it.  Really not a fun experience to figure out in the dark. 

The inner door is unlocked and leads to this ever so inviting entry way.

It was late.  I was tired and still optimistic enough to think that my apartment would be the one on the left so that I wouldn’t have to climb those accursed Turkish stairs with all my crap, but … no.    

I truly hate Turkish stairs.

Then it was onto another gated door in front of my apartment.  This one was unlocked and, when opened, awkwardly blocks the entire walkway (WHY?).  I grabbed the keys from the lockbox and finally got into the apartment.

Pictures didn’t do this place justice.  For a one-bedroom apartment in Türkiye, this place is HUGE!  I can’t get over it.  I love the separate office area off the living room where I naturally set up shop.  

There’s also a full-size fridge, a gas stove (thank you!) and an oven.  I don’t remember ever having an oven in Türkiye. 

But, even with all those goodies, there was no microwave.  It was almost perfect.

Then, there’s the noise.  Apparently, there are a couple of American yetis above me, stomping on the floor and talking loudly (that’s how I heard the English).  Also, and I have no idea what this is about, some jerk keeps playing the drums for a few minutes every morning at 3 a.m.  Is this some new religious tradition now that the 6:45 a.m. call to prayer isn’t done anymore?  I don’t know.

I haven’t been in this city in six months.  Been to Portugal and Cyprus (and really didn’t want to leave either country as I was very comfortable in each) since my last visit.  Why then does it feel like I never left Istanbul?  The place feels as familiar to me as ever and, while still being exhausting, I get why I keep coming back here by default.

Alas, Türkiye is about 20 degrees colder than Cyprus which really makes me miss the island.  My second full day was also drizzly in that special way that Istanbul does – just enough cold drops of rain to make everything wet and miserable.  Didn’t miss that from the winter of 2023.

But there are other things I did miss in Türkiye.  One of the items I love to get in the city is a special brand of coffee that I can only find in the Bim grocery store.  After having breakfast at my favorite place in Balat (Simit!  Give me that yummy sesame covered bagel so I can shove it in my face!), I looked forward to grabbing a handful of coffee (they come in individual packets as is very popular in Türkiye).

Why then when I went to Bim’s location, I found a Sok instead?  Sok is the other major grocery chain in the country.  They also have (had) a location just a block away from this Bim.  Sok does not carry my coffee.  What are you doing to me, Türkiye?  Why you go and change on me like that? Where my coffee at?

Fortunately, this was just one store as the Bim chain still exists.  I was lucky to find another location that's even closer to the apartment.  I happily left the store with my caffeine fix in hand.

The second day in the new digs, the power went out just as I was about to make breakfast. Okay.  I figured I’d wait a little while for it to come back on.  A few minutes turned into over an hour as the apartment got cooler and cooler without the heat on.  I gave up on waiting and decided to head out for breakfast.  But there was a problem.

Remember that metal gate at the entrance to the building I mentioned earlier that you have to use a keypad to enter?  Well, with the power off, that keypad doesn’t work.  I figured that one of the two keys provided would be for that gate.  Nope.  I had the wooden door open and was trying both keys in the metal door and could not exit the building.  That is a fire hazard.  Not to mention that, standing at the metal gate looking out onto the street, I felt like a prisoner in what is supposed to be a cozy Airbnb.

Power was restored after about an hour and a half.  With that issue resolved, I might just extend my stay.  It beats having to navigate my luggage down those stairs again any time soon.