#7

And I'm back. Sorry If no comments were coming through, some cock-up in the settings department. All fixed now!

I went to Istanbul last week - totally rad. Cool markets, people and culture. One has to visit the markets when in Istanbul, so we visited the Grand Bazaar.

I was reminded immediately of my visit to Beijing in 2006 whereupon the hoards of stalls, each no bigger than a small bathroom, went as far as the eye could see - all undercover. With this reminder came the memory of the great art of haggling.

I do enjoy haggling. It's like a very small adrenaline rush because you're messing with a dude who's trying to get as much money from you as he can. Meanwhile, you're trying to keep as much money as you can. Ideally, we meet halfway, often you are ripped off and you don't even know it.

Anywho I inquired to a gentleman about a scarf he had on display. This scarf was identical (albeit a different colour) to a scarf I had purchased that very day, at a different market for 10YTL, roughly £5 or $10AUD. Not too bad - it was silk and lovely looking! This conversation followed:

"How much for this one mate?"
"20 Lira"
"20? Righto..."
"How much you think should be paid?"
"Well I saw one before, for 10"
"10? That price mean no good quality"
"Yeah but it was the same scarf"
"If it was the same, why didn't you buy it?"
"I did."

He shrugged his shoulders and I walked off. He just lost 10 Lira, the clown.

Not complaining though - good times had constantly.

Even the time when a local old man decided to not mind his own business, after he saw us looking in our guide book for our hostel. His English was barely audible or decipherable, his teeth and smile reminiscent of a pom who'd lost his toothbrush and hadn't bothered to get a new one in 25 years. What's more is he grabbed our (face) cheeks exclaiming,
"You are young looking! Very young!" - just like aunty Gladys at Christmas would.

Righto champ, hands to yourself if you don't mind. We thought we'd lost him when he walked off, he then stopped, turned around and began it all over again. Trying to be nice? Probably. Admirable gesture? Sure. Helpful? Not in the slightest. Creepy? Hell yes.

Shalom.

#6

Well look at that - we're beyond 5 blogs.

Some people didn't think I could do it: "Pete I don't think you can do it" etc. That's not a direct quote by the way. I'm not sure if anyone said anything remotely related to that statement at all actually.

This week was vastly quieter than last. Rock concerts and the epic failure of public transport although significant, don't happen THAT often.

What has been fun is seeing London for what it really is: a beautiful city with enormous history and culture, packed with all kinds of different things to see and do, filled with miserable and unhelpful people. Now I know what you're thinking. I don't really, but I have an idea.

'Pete is so cynical about his gap year, he's in London for (expletive)'s sake, why can't he just write about how fun and happy it is?'

An interesting point of view, but one which is invalid. I'm here to write about not only my experiences, but my observations. I'm not compiling a travel diary, and this is what I'm seein' people!

Right. So now you're thinking, 'What grounds or basis does Pete have the right to say things like that?'. Once again, you may not be thinking that at all. But I can say what I want on here, it's my damn blog. :D

Now, back to the matter at hand. In Australia, I am used to general niceties in public relations, be that going to the shops for some milk or shopping for a new phone. I took this for granted, as over here - the niceties that you often (not always) see are far inferior to the Australian equivalent. Pleasantries are exchanged, you buy, you leave. No problem. 9 out of 10 'customer service' people here just plain suck. Maybe it's their miserable lives coming out to shine, I don't know.

One particular instance where this is true is particularly interesting as our subject was TOO nice. It was when we were applying for a bank account, the young man was pleasant enough - but very talkative, so much so that he was asking our opinion on one of his colleagues' appearance. It was a girl for the record, not a guy. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I mean sure, I was mildly entertained for a while - but then it just got boring and tired, like a feeble old great uncle at Christmas who smells a putrid smell of, BO, farts and scotch. Lame.

Exciting times ahead - Topdeck tours, and a trip to Turkey next week. Should be VERY interesting to write about.

And now for a shameless plug. My brother James is a smart man. Read his shit here.

That is all.