A very very long day indeed. My flight was at a truly terrible time, at 6 in the morning and, unusually, I had the good sense to sleep for a couple of hours before leaving for the airport at 3.30. A later departure than usual to Lahore airport’s hellzone as my brother whose love language, as my sister explains, is arranging for a protocol service, did just that and I had accepted despite my prickliness at it in acknowledgement of said love language. When there are no crowds, I find it just a hassle and time consuming as I can manage faster myself than when I am forced to play the begum sahib. Anyway, there was a bit of a crowd so I suppose it was all fine, and I was whisked through in 20 minutes. So I could have slept another hour.
I walked briskly up and down the departure area for about an hour, much to the bemusement of my escort, who found himself a spot to chat. Then I did what was more expected of a begum sahib and went up to the airport lounge where however I did not eat or drink anything so failed another begum sahib test.
Then, when I boarded, I realised I had what was genuinely the worst seat on the plane, and became very grumpy. So much for my protocol service, though I won’t complain to my brother as it’s my own fault for not shelling out for business class, or at least a seat reservation. It was a seat onto which the toilet door opened directly, so truly foul. I put on my COVID mask, put on an ear mask, and firmly closed my eyes and pretended I wasn’t there for the next six hours, except for about 20 minutes when I went to the back of the plane and pretended to stretch until I was chased away by the steward, but actually I was just breathing.
I reached Galata at about noon, feeling like a wreck but had to soldier on as my aunt was still in town and had already messaged to say she was lurking about the area. So I had a quick shower then the GF and I went to meet her for lunch and coffee. Pleasant, but then we took her back up the Cihangir hill and down the other side where she was staying and – disaster – her key would not work on the front door. She started panicking and sending messages to her hostess who communicates only by voice note so it was all rather tedious for me. I persuaded her to leave the front door and come back to Galata with us after we had done our grocery shopping. The GF went off to do the shopping while I sat with her on a bench outside the cheesemonger’s, back up the Cihangir hill, where a blind man came by, very lost, reaching out his hand to touch her very bemused face. It turned out he was on the wrong side of the road and, happily, spoke English, so I escorted him to where he wanted to go. Then I dashed back to learn that the hostess had sent another voice note: the key was to be dropped off to the flat and the locksmith was on his way. So I dashed back down the Cihangir hill to take the key back, and then as I returned up the Cihangir hill I received a call – another voice note had arrived and my aunt was to go and oversee the locksmith. She set off and, of course, got lost and called to say she was next to the yellow building that looked like Al Noor Flats in Karachi, where should she go next? I had no idea. Luckily she took pity and said she would find her way.
Then to find the GF and the shopping, of which there was quite a bit, so we lugged the bags down the Cihangir hill and up the Galata hill and I thought I might perish. An hour or two’s break, and then we were off again, back to Cihangir (down Galata hill, up Cihangir hill) as we’d booked a table for dinner at a meyhane for the aunt and her hostess. Both are enthusiastic talkers so it was quite tiring for someone on 2 hours of sleep, but the food was good and they were in good spirits, so all was well. And then we returned, down the Cihangir hill and up the Galata hill and up the final flights of stairs and here we are. Quite tired.
Astonishingly, since I did not have a moment to pause all day, I didn’t learn about the Hamas attack on Israel until just now. A rather big piece of news and worrisome, but I am too tired to think more on it.