We checked out of our hotel at 6:30am and Avi drove us to the airport to catch our flight to Istanbul. A fond farewell to Avi with plenty of hugs and back pats and then we found ourselves standing next to what I believe must be the all time smelliest family on the face of the planet as we checked in. We were in the Executive check-in line and the offending foursome in the Coach line directly next to us. We were surrounded by machine gun toting soldiers but could not find even one red velvet rope to separate the lines. “Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” I tried my best to cast indignant stares in the offending family’s malodorous direction but they were Turkish and did not seem to understand my body language. Perhaps the distinct separation between my two eyebrows confused them. I tried to turn my back to the teenage son who was jonesing in on my personal space but this only seemed to encourage him to press his sweaty self ever closer, so I had no choice but to face the stench and step even closer to the young, apparently decomposing man to mark my territory. There I stood face to face with his peach fuzz covered upper lip and vacant stare. I steadied myself, inhaling as infrequently as possible and carefully put my carry-on bag down on the floor between us, creating a flimsy barrier, which at least enabled me to return my attention to the ground hostess who was making sure we had seats together, without fear of imminent body contact. I really think Purel should make an atomizer with a light scent for just such occasions. Luckily we were checked in quickly and were all able to use the airline lounge which had plenty of buttery pound cake, hummus with pita, and air freshener to put us at ease.
We landed in Istanbul and were met by the Four Seasons Hotel “Greeter” (that is how he introduced himself, “Wilkom Istanbu-ehl, I ehm Gree-eh-ter,”) whose name was completely incomprehensible although he repeated it several times. We then met our private shuttle bus driver with an equally incomprehensible name and pleasant smile. As we drove toward the hotel I saw English letters on all the street signs and buildings, however, I could not read a single thing as modern Turkish uses the English alphabet but the language itself bears absolutely no resemblance to English, French, Spanish, Italian or any other language with which I am familiar that uses the English alphabet. I must say it was a weird and slightly frustrating experience to see the letters and not be able to make out even one word. For example octagonal red stop signs have the word “DUR” written on them and many signs bear the word TEMMUZ which may mean “July” or equally likely “Refrigerator”. It was just as frustrating to not be able to understand a word our Greeter was saying though he and I both tried very very hard. He sounded like Martin Short’s character Frahnk in “Father of the Bride,” only much harder to comprehend.
The language barrier disappeared the moment we pulled up in front of the glorious hotel situated on the banks of the Bosphorous Sea in a restored palace. Palatial is in fact the only way to describe this magnificent hotel but even better than the architecture was the VIP check in experience. Half a dozen men in slate grey suits stood at attention as we descended from the shuttle and each in turn genuflected slightly and welcomed us by name “wilkem mizuz boranshteyn tu-uh foh-wer seazonz iz-tan-buel.” I entered the hotel foyer and turned left toward the reception desk but was quickly intercepted by a new greeter (don’t ask me what his name was) who smiled fervently and said, “pleez mizuz boranshteyn, hallowey me tu-uh czeck you diehrectally in room. Foh-allow me pleez.” Suddenly two additional female greeters each brandishing room card folios appeared smiling and gesturing wildly toward the hallway. And so I alighted the elevator with my new entourage like Vincent Chase, and on the top floor was shown to our fabulous accommodations. Livvy and Justin’s room had baseball hats, potato chips and mini-whirling dervish toys as well as Disney Princess bedding just for Livvy. When Chloe saw the window seat in her room, she could scarcely believe it, an absolutely perfect, private reading nook. The chief greeter attended to David and me, while each assistant greeter assisted in one of our other rooms; there was much demonstrating of mini-bars and explanations of safe usage while the bellmen unloaded our bags onto the mahogany baggage trays. Our chief greeter took a copy of our credit card and then the entire welcome committee bade us farewell and retreated (walking out backwards so as to not show us their backs), thereby allowing the kids the privacy needed for them to prance around singing about how this was now the #1 best place they’d ever stayed. (See video)
We then descended to the patio restaurant overlooking the sea for afternoon tea (see pics), which was simply divine. The hustle and bustle of Eilat was now a mere memory as I nibbled on my cucumber tea sandwich with not a toddler in sight.
We then investigated the spa, indoor and outdoor pools, health club and boutiques, all of which met with our approval. After nightfall we headed to a charming area by the water with cobble stone streets littered with trendy cafés. The trendiest was a café/lounge called House Café which had a large outdoor dining area on two levels overlooking the Sea. Oversized rectangular tables with chandeliers suspended overhead, as if in mid-air, decorated the outdoor area, and hazy euro-house music was playing in full surround sound. My friend Bridget would have fully approved of the décor and crowd, plenty of billowy white linen shirts and funky jewelry. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and then returned to the hotel where every employee we saw wished us a good night by name.
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