A Bump in the Night

This is a story about my 2nd night in Istanbul, where I stayed in a hostel after my first unpleasent (understatement?) night which I've written about here:

A not so Turkish Delight

So after leaving my couchsurfing host's home, I checked myself into a hostel in the old city. As I settled in my dorm to gather myself and recover from the recent events, I met two of my roommates. Two Aussie blokes, one blonde and the other brunette. There were 3 bunkbeds in the room. I was on the top bunk of brunette Aussie, and blonde Aussie was in the bottom bunk opposite us. There were three Italians taking the rest of the beds, two ladies and a guy. The guy was in the top bed on blonde aussie's bunk. You'll see why I've explained this soon enough.

The Belly dancer with Blonde Aussie

I then headed out for lunch with my friend and did more sight seeing. It was a good day of happy snapping on my camera, dodging the local men asking me to have coffee/tea/dinner with them, and meeting some cool Portugese guys (both named Miguel) at dinner as we watched a local 'belly' dancer (she wasn't very good at all!) perform as part of the evening's attraction. I think the girl was working for the local mob or something of the like, as she had a handler who discreetly sat in the corner. Throughout her performance, the belly dancer would pull guys up to dance with her. Both Miguels got pulled up and later told me that the whole time they were dancing with her, she was saying 'Money! Money! Money! Money!' and wouldn't let them sit back down until he gave her money. She would then look over at her handler for permission to stop dancing and wait for the cue.

As I was tired from the previous nights events I went to bed at a reasonable hour only to be awoken a few hours later by the sound of our drunk aussie friends coming back from their night out. Brunette basically passed out on his bed but Blonde had decided to bring someone back with him. A girl!!!

'Oh dear lord,' I thought to myself, 'This is gonna be the first hostel dorm sex encounter I'll be exposed to.'

Blonde and his friend get into his lower bunk bed and start making out. I try to block it all out and go back to sleep, but was unsuccessful. I can hear them shuffling and moving. I can hear sucking noises and soft moans. At this point, I can't help but wonder if they're rooting or not. I try to block it out again and go to sleep. Minutes later I decide the effort was futile and decide to check my mobile for the time. It was 5am. I put my phone back down and what happens? It falls down the side of my bed and under Brunettes bed with a great parading clatter of noise against the wall and onto the floor. Great. GREAT!! Blonde and his friend stop for a few moments probably to look to see if I'm awake. I lay still and pretend I'm asleep, asif I had knocked my phone off my bed in my sleep.

Soon they are at it again. I roll around and face the bunk they're in. Yes, I admit it, I tried to take a peek in the dark. I was curious. Shoot me. It was too dark to see anything though, which was a good thing. What I did see though, was that Mr Italy was awake on the top bunk. The poor guy!! The bunk bed was moving and squeaking as the horny two were at it, and he was in the top bunk feeling it all!

At this point, we can hear them whispering. Skanky girl must be getting cold feet. I couldn't hear the conversation clearly, but I did hear skanky girl say 'No. I can't. We shouldn't.' Eventually they went back to fooling around and then finally went to sleep.

The next morning, the Italian ladies are the first to wake up having no idea of last nights events. They shower and get dressed. Once the bathroom is free, Blonde gets up and goes to the bathroom. The Italian ladies look at him strangely. Blonde has a bandage wrapped around his whole head! As he shuts the door to the bathroom, the ladies notice there's still a body in his bed. Mr Italy is awake now, so they ask him what's going on in Italian. Mr Italy retells the events in their language and the ladies burst out laughing. They look at the bed, then at the bathroom, back at the bed and then again at the bathroom. Blonde comes out of the bathroom to meet the stares of the Italians.

'Oh, it's not as bad as it looks,' Blonde remarks. The Italians look at him quizzically.

'My head.' He continues to explain. 'It's just a small scratch. I bumped my head when we were out last night and it started bleeding. This was the only way to keep the bandage on, so I had my whole head bandaged.'

Awkward silence.

'But I'm ok. Nothing serious.'

'Next time you want to FUCK,' Mr Italy angrily remarks in his thick Italian accent, 'GET A FUCKING HOTEL ROOM!'

Yes!!! You tell him! OMG this is HILARIOUS. The dumbfounded look on Blonde's face as he realises that he wasn't as discreet as he thought was pure gold. He gives Mr Italy a sheepish look and apologises, then crawls back into bed with skanky girl who is hiding her face under the blankets in shame.

The Italians finish getting dressed and leave the room. I jump down, crawl under brunette's bed to get my phone and go to brush my teeth. As I look into the bathroom mirror brushing my teeth, I see the reflection of skanky girl walking past to leave the room. We make eye contact through the mirror as she walks out redfaced and embarrassed.

A not so Turkish Delight

This is a story about my first 24 hours in Istanbul, formerly known as Constantinople, back in 2009.

The Blue Mosque

At the time, I was living in London. I planned a solo trip to Istanbul for the weekend and was looking forward to seeing it. Istanbul is a city rich in history and with its own unique culture due to its location. It's predominently a Muslim country but with influences from western and asian cultures. The city sits on the Bosphorus strait where Asia meets Europe, thus you can see the influences of these cultures present in the city.

  

My planned accomodation for the weekend had been via couchsurfing. I was going to stay at a local's place and crash on the couch. At the time, it seemed like a fun and economic idea. I'd been hosting other couch surfers in London and had met a many great people. So I thought it was time I became the hostee. I had organised to stay with a guy who was of similar age and had good feedback and references on the website.

Prior to leaving London, my host had sent me an email with detailed instructions on how to get from the airport into town to meet him. He was unable to meet me at the airport as he couldn't leave work early. So I arrive at Istanbul airport and follow his instructions without much difficulties and soon I'm on a bus heading into the city. On the bus I sat next to a lovely girl who was also living in London. She was abit of a hippy and we had a great conversation during the 40 minute bus ride. She only had great things to say about Turkey so I was excited for my weekend.

The bus stops, I get off and there is my host waiting for me. He is a friendly guy and easy going. We take the train back to his place where I am introduced to his flatmate. I get shown a quick tour of the apartment and then we chill for bit and have a chat. Once I felt rested, my host took me out to go on a ferry ride along the Bosphorus and then to a cafe to have tradional turkish tea. This is how the locals bonded with new friends and people they meet. 'We have some tea. Now we are good friends.'

Dinner time came and we headed into the 'old' city to meet a friend of mine who happened to be in Istanbul as well, but leaving the following day. My host takes us to dinner at a turkish restaurant where we have Gozleme, then to a rooftop bar. Rooftop bars are awesome. You catch a nice breeze, get a great view of the city at night, and hear snippets of music floating through the air from other rooftop bars around you.

1 part Raki + 1 part water  + a block of ice

Alcohol is ordered and the drinking starts. My host orders a bottle of Turkish liquour (Yeni Raki) for us to try. It's very similar to Sambuca. Licorice flavoured. Ew!! I managed a few shots and left the rest to my host and my friend. By the end of the bottle, or possible 2..the boys are pretty tipsy and ready to party. We head out and make our way through the city to a nightclub. It's pretty crazy on the streets, people are everywhere. There's night markets, lots of cafes and restaurants and lots of promotors trying to usher you into their club.

We end up in a local club where me and my friend are the only tourists there. Tres cool. It's not another backpacker joint full of horny Europeans rubbing their productive organs against you and each other. This is a Turkish nightclub, full of turkish people and turkish pop music. The music was a mixture of house, medditeranean (bellydance like) rhythms and pop. Not too bad, but not so great too - for my taste that is. And the dancing. Oh the dancing!! Turkish men dance with their hips very loudly. It's not good enough to be on the dancefloor, they have to be elevated. So you're surrounded by Turkish men wiggling their hips on table tops, chairs and lounges. The women are happy to remain on the dancefloor. It brings to mind memories of being in a gay club but it's not a gay club. No one seems to mind, as long as there is no violence.

 

More drinks are had and my host gets a little touchy. I pretend not to notice and knock back a few vodka redbulls. By now, I am so tired. I'd been awake for 24 hours already having to catch an early morning flight. My eyes are itchy and red, I can barely keep them open. Then the redbull kicks in. Out comes the camera and happy snaps ablazing!

Fast forward to the end of the night, my friend goes back to his hotel and I hop into a cab with my host, who is plastered. The whole cab ride home, his head is out the window as he dry retches. A few times, we even had to stop so he could vomit. The taxi driver is not impressed. He's sputtering in Turkish, hands flying and sounding annoyed. I'm going to take a guess and assume he's saying something like, 'You stupid kids and your drinking! Don't vomit in my taxi! Or you will pay extra fee. Ay yai yai!!'

Reaching 'home', my host runs straight to bed and passes out/recovers. His flatmate had let us in. At this point, thinking I wasn't of sound mind, the flatmate asks if I want to sleep in his bed. No thank you. The couch is fine. Are you sure? Yes I am. You are not drunk? Why don't you come sleep with me. We can have sex. No thank you. I'm sleeping alone on the couch. Why, don't you want to have sex? No, I'm not interested.

I wasn't feeling so well anymore and ran to the toilet and vomited. During this blowing of the chunks, I thought to myself, 'Yes!! This is unattractive. He'll definitely will be turned off and leave me alone.' I was wrong. I turn to leave the bathroom and the flatmate is standing there with a towel for me to wash my face with. How nice.

I make my way to the lounge room and lay down on the couch to go to sleep. He follows me and again tries to convince me that sleeping with him was a great idea. I tell him again that I am not interested. Apparently, this is a signal for the guy to starting pulling up my dress and attempting to kiss my neck. I slap his hands away and proceed to coccoon myself in the blanket. He stands and watches for a few minutes, then finally gives up and leaves, shutting the lounge room door behind him. Hallelujah!! I can now sleep in peace. Or so I thought.

Two hours later, I am woken up by my host who Kramer's his way through the lounge room door. I wonder what's going on. He jumps on top of me. I think 'What the Fuck?'. He starts groping. I get angry and move myself into fetal position. Ok, I need to be firm in this. I don't want to have sex with this guy too. But don't get hysterical enough that he might get violent. There are two guys against me. Stay safe for the night, run away in the morning because I don't exactly know where I am.

'Look man! I don't want to have sex with you. Your fucking flatmate already tried to fuck me 2 hours ago. I'm not in the fucking mood for this. Get off me!'

His response, 'Why not? Don't you want me? It will be fun. C'mon, let's do it.'

I remained in fetal position and pretended it wasn't happening. He eventually stopped grinding against me, realising that he wasn't getting anywhere and went back to bed.

It took me ages to fall back to sleep, I was just too angry. I half dozed until the morning and packed my things to get ready to leave.

The next morning, my host acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened. So I went along with it. I pretended everything was fine and told him I've decided to stay in a hostel so that it was easier to see the sights in town. He agreed with the idea and walked me to the taxi stand. He told the driver where to go and I let the taxi take me away to a safer place as the tension from the previous night faded away.

In hindsight, that was potentially a very dangerous situation and thankfully I got away from it unscathed. I am so glad that I got angry as opposed to scared during the situation as things could have turned out very differently. There was one point where I thought giving in could be easier, but my anger propelled me to be stubborn.

Although I still love travelling on my own, and this experience hasn't stopped me from doing so, I recommend that as a female, don't go to countries with patriarcal societies on your own. You tend to stand out and attract attention. In my case, more attention is attracted as I'm also asian. I have a habit of going to obscure countries where its not common to see Asian girls on their own, but I can't say that I've had any travel regrets. I still appreciated the beauty that exists in Istanbul and the unique experiences it has to offer.