Yesterday, Sunday, we went even further along the coast to the home of someone we knew in Istanbul. The house was just above the coastal road, at a point where the Bosphorus turned towards the Black Sea, and a cool, fresh breeze blew constantly down that long channel. We went for brunch at around noon, and left about six hours of continuous brunching later, and having drunk seemingly infinite cups of tea. It was a pleasant afternoon with good company. There was one other guest, who seemed to be in a slightly suspicious line of work and had the air of discomfort that characterises most Englishmen of a certain type. But pleasant enough, and if there is one thing I know how to do, it’s to disregard suspicious lines of work. Our hosts were very interesting about Turkishness and Turkey’s place in the world, past present and future, and we heard some excellent anecdotes about how one of them was long the advisor to a senior official with the job of saying what the official could not say himself but could frown or nod slightly at it. Not entirely unlike a court fool.
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