Saturday, December 17, 2011

Hanging with my honey.

It was nice to walk around with the tallest man in Istanbul. He took me to see some of the places where they've been shooting. At one of the buildings near the Grand Bazaar, the caretaker unlocked the door of the stairwell and we went up to the roof. In the sixties, when the fabric trade moved to India and China, Istanbul suffered a big commercial blow. In a room up there is an abandoned Italian loom, probably around 150 years old, the last piece of fabric rotting away gently...

and then he brought us some tea.

In a courtyard not far away, there is a silver smelting business. A very jovial smith showed us around, explaining the process with laughter and huffs and puffs.

 I don't want to go home.