In the morning our tiles arrived, terribly exciting to see them finally here, though heaven knows when they’ll be installed. Our architect was there and assured us that everything would kick into high gear next week. I am rather doubtful as the tone from her and from the contractor has had a tinge of the ‘yes dear’.
We went for breakfast at a place which serves very good breakfasts, albeit catering primarily to tourists. It was all exceptionally fresh and delicious and the orange juice was lovely in the sun (I must be low on vitamin C as normally I don’t enjoy orange juice much), and we had a nice conversation, though at one point the GF swore rather enthusiastically and a table-load of Midwesterners (mostly children) looked horrified and moved to the other end of the courtyard.
In the afternoon we walked across the Galata Bridge, bought some iced coffee and made our way to Gulhane park to perch near tumbled columns and drank our coffee looking out at the battleship (NATO?) moored at the entrance to the Golden Horn. But the real aim of the day was to spend money and so we went to a very high-end shop (such are the things we spend money on in our forties), and came back with two very extravagant bath towels and a bedsheet that cost its weight in gold. These were sold to us by a truly old-fashioned salesman, with a fine stream of neverending patter and who informed us that the reason there was no sign on the door was because ‘instead of paying taxes we prefer to pay our workers’.
On the way back we went to our favourite meyhane for dinner, and again had an excellent meal and, for truly the first time, felt as though lockdown is over.