Live Hagia Sophia

While in Istanbul touring the Hagia Sophia church and the Imperial Gate, you slip away to the loo and accidentally shatter an ancient mirror to reveal.
Mirroring Istanbul, Turkey, Hagia Sophia. More surprised than anything else you and the sort of half-baked tour that you went on you really had to use the ladies room. You had asked the guide at least a couple of times and he said, “Okay, just a sec.,” and smiled. He said that many, many seconds ago. Now we were on the far side of the church. When you gotta go, you gotta go. I looked around for the most opportune time to break off from the group. It seemed that there were bathrooms all over the place and the mirrored bowls; gorgeous. Unfortunately, they were quite pricey and even if you were able to get one, some antique salesman from between Sydney to London was your competition. In other words, you had a better shot at getting even a peek at a mirrored bowl than anything else. However, when you gotta go, you gotta go. The loo was right there. Just as you were about to slip in an Italian janitor held up his hand. He said, “No. No possible. No entrada senorita. I couldn’t help but feel slightly complemented by the “senorita” the Miss, but I really needed to go! I looked over my shoulder quickly and skirted into the men’s room. The janitor, looked, he was surprised, shocked and said “Senorita! Senorita!” No doubt he figured, the American girls, aren’t they something? There weren’t a lot of men around and the few who were there simply looked over their shoulder and away. They were rather disgusted and annoyed as they washed their hands and stared into the mirror, wrinkling their foreheads. I looked over toward my tour group, they hadn’t noticed a thing and mirrored bowl was right there. I didn’t plan on taking it at all. I simply wanted to take a peak. I climbed up to take a closer look. It was just held there sort of precariously, I guess from centuries upon centuries of fondling. Maybe not that long, but you got the point. I barely breathed at it and the mirrored bowl fell into my arms. I didn’t realize how much it weighed. Mirrors. Dozens upon dozens of mirrors. What was more valuable was what looked like silver and gold. My first thought was, how I would ever get this bowl out! I went back into the loo to gather my composure. I went into the ladies room. My tour group? They were nowhere to be seen. That presented another problem in itself. My backpack was on the bus. Now I was lost in the middle of Asia; or at least I thought I was. Fortunately, I was wearing my money belt and had my credit card.  I turned around and saw Jolene pawing over some of the goods; she was haggling, bargaining as if she didn’t have the money. She was no doubt bargaining just for the fun of it, just like many of the other tourists. I went over, caught Jolene’s eye, she smiled as if she had just scored big, but the rug salesman was the real winner. He managed to squeeze 100 American dollars from Jolene for some generic carpets that I saw go for $75 just a day earlier. The guy was a con man (I wouldn’t dare say artist). Now that I had a fairly decent bead on where my tour was, I went for water. I wondered. How was I going to get this bowl out of the plaza, the city, the country? Then I thought, totally relieved. The bus? I just got on the bus, sort of tucked myself in, cuddled and went to sleep. The bus is supposed to arrive back in the west some day.          


One comment

  1. Reblogged this on baka's blog.

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