In a moment lacking in subtlety one of the prettier members of our crew (anonymity demanded) made the following comment; Dad needs to be on the move constantly. He could never settle down…anywhere.
While I thought that was a bit harsh I was assured that it was intended as a compliment and not a slight. I held off on my response until yesterday when we passed this family owned basement workshop, located in 500 year old Ottoman craftsmen quarter deep in a hidden Istanbul neighborhood far from the tourist’s traps and reeking of surliness and surprise. It was certainly not a place for the timid to tread.
Wading through the clutter and speckled with flying chips I talked with the owner and agreed to return for çay and a longer visit. I walked away from this jewel of a find and the promise of a friendship—a bit richer for wandering on the far side of the world. Prone to wander—Lord I feel it.
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