We turned down one of the small winding streets off Istiklal Caddesi and had supper at a small restaurant. Flat chargrilled bread with a dish of finely chopped tomatoes, chili, parsley, olive oil and pomegranate molasses.
Behind us there was a man sitting and cooking over a fire, underneath a big copper hood. We had minced lamb kebabs with crispy edges. Yoghurt, mint, grilled chilies - the long green ones. A beer each.
Piles of pomegranates everywhere. You stand and watch as they press a glassfull. It's dazzling.
If I had to make a sweeping first impression of the Turks: they are first and foremost friendly. Yes, some of the men stare. It was worse in Rome. They are a nation of fast walkers. I couldn't be happier.
