Costas was kind enough to wake at the early hour of 3:40am to get me back across the border to the Turkish occupied area and to Ercan airport this morning.
I suppose I was hyped on adrenaline when I first arrived at Ercan a week ago, but I hadn't taken notice of how relaxed this airport was. This time around, I set my carry-on bag through the one lane of security which features an ancient scanning machine, looking more like a worn magician's trick black box than an aiport scanner (in the era of full body bomb scan machines, no less).
A security man stood there nattering away on his mobile phone, his back to the entire system, including scan screen. He glanced at me and waved his hand, gesturing toward him- I handed him my boarding pass. He continued to speak dramatically on the phone in a deep, angry voice. He took my boarding card, waved it around, and handed it back to me without so much as a glance.
My bag rolled through the short conveyor belt while he looked out into the open waiting area beyond, still on his mobile, back still turned.
My bag passes through.
I glance behind the scanner- there is no one there. The boarding pass "checker" is apparently also the scan "checker." It seems he didn't feel like checking either this morning. As I pick up my bag, which has a juice box AND nail scissors in it, another man dressed in simple security-esque attire saunters over. He sets down two loaves of fruit bread on the luggage sorting counter and rubs his eyes, exchanging brief words with his colleague. I watch them both for a moment in disbelief- almost giving them an extra minute to realise that they haven't a clue what is in my carry-on bag. The one stretches his arms and stares absent-mindedly to the ceiling, the other is still on the phone. I chuckle to myself and turn away toward the waiting area.
Having safely arrived back in Istanbul (despite the lax security, no carry-on threats made it through, other than my nail scissors and juice), I was reunited with Paul who had landed via Athens, where he spent Monday evening.
After some metro navigation (where I managed to break a hanging hand strap...fellow travelers in the crammed tram thought it was hillarious), Paul and I found a hostel with space. Neither of us had much sleep so it was a very easy going day- and after a tasty meal in the area, we got some great shots from the rooftop terrace of our hostel. For 20euro/night, the view, free breakfast, a/c, and secure room are all well worth it.
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| The view from my dinner seat in Istanbul. Cushions, red wine, kebab and checkers. Lovely. |
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| The view from the top of the hostel @ the mouth of the Marmara Sea- between Europe and Asia |
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| Hagia Sofia Church; from our rooftop |
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| Blogging from Istanbul- the Blue Mosque in the background |
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