I was getting more than the usual attention in the paddock, too. "What the hell are you wearing?"
"It's called a kilt."
"I know what it is, but why are you wearing it?"
"I forgot to pack any trousers yesterday: luckily I had the safety kilt in my bag for just such a problem." Continue
Istanbul is one of the world’s most spectacular cities, and night is the time to arrive: at midnight most of the inherent craziness has died down, and the cool night air soothes you as you glide down highways that are choked with traffic during the day. The driver didn’t speak any English other than okay and tenk you, leaving me free to put my headphones on and listen to Sigur Ros as the world washed past.
It’s only when you make it onto the bridge that you can finally look down and see the Bosphorus, when you can see the city reflecting itself in the inky darkness of the water and remember that’s right, it’s beautiful here. Almost as soon as it arrived the view across the water, the mosques and the apartment buildings and the lights, is gone, leaving you to push on through the suburbs once more, the peaks of the minarets lit up along the way like giant candles to illuminate the way to the hotel. Continue