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Saturday night Dave and Dennis and I took Dan Golden out to dinner to say goodbye. Picked out a seaside restaurant in Tarabaya which did not really turn out to have such good food, but sure was expensive. We all seemed a little strange in coats and ties.
Pigged-out at the Dünya Pastanesi for dessert, and Dennis mauled Danny on the way home in the taxi. That's Dennis' way of showing affection, which I guess he feels he has to do when someone is leaving. Mauled him again on the floor of my apartment, and after we'd sat around for a bit talking, Dan took his leave. I'm glad our last night at the Pasaj was a wild one, hot Friday night outdoors, with heavy doses of music and clapping and men belly-dancing. The Accordion Lady's playing was getting everyone so stirred up, that Ilyas and his waiters threw her out.
Dennis said next day that Danny had him walk around Barton Hall with him, out of nostalgia, after leaving my apartment Saturday night.
Sunday was pretty much just a repeat of Saturday, except that I stayed home at night. Monday morning I caught the 8:20 ferry downtown and went to the Russian consulate and up to the Hilton, running errands. Dropped off a cassette at a recording shop off Istiklal near the Pasaj, to get it filled with Um Khayhoum music. Tuesday I went back downtown again, more errands, to the Amexco office at the Inter Continental and buying drugs. Second day in a row there was a cloudburst right at noon, and just after it was over I went up the Galata Tower to take pictures. Bought myself a cheap watch in Eminönü, figuring I'd need some sort of time-piece for my trip.
Wednesday was a full day spent at the library, clearing up the last few bits of paperwork, there, and running papers around to have them signed, "clearing post".
That evening Dennis and I went to the Çiçek Pasaj for dinner and beers. Being a hot night, the place was crowded and really jumping. I brought along a bunch of cigars to sell, not really knowing what would happen. Cigars seem to be a hot item - I waved the cigar guy over and pulled up my bag full of cigar boxes, he knocked me down a lira on the price per cigar, I think mostly for form's sake, and very eagerly counted them all out and peeled off a row of bills. I made over 250TL on that. Then five minutes later he came back and asked if I had any more I could sell him. I had a box of very bad ones left, and told him I'd bring them Friday night.
BUT as it turned out I never made it back to the Çiçek Pasaj. Dennis and I ate and drank prodigiously that night, mostly I ate and drank, and then stopped for sweets on the way back up Istiklal Caddesi, and by 3 that morning I knew I was a sick boy, and it wasn't hangover.
Laid in bed all Thursday, asleep most of the time, but getting up every few hours to stumble to the bathroom and spray shit into the toilet bowl. Called Dennis and had him bring me some milk from the village. He and Wolfgang and Dennis Johnson all visited me during the day, after playing tennis. They came in all sweaty and talkative, but I'm not at all a sociable person when I'm sick, so I just lay there miserable and stared at the ceiling. And I wasn't at all sure I'd be able to make the boat on Saturday morning. Damned awkward to come down with food poisoning just before you leave on an overland trip through Asia.
So I slept almost all that day, and luckily next morning I felt good enough to get out of bed, shower and shave, say hello to the maid, and fix myself a hamburger patty with white cheese for breakfast.
By noon I felt well enough to walk over to the campus, not really wanting to, but I felt I had to say goodbye, and there were a few vital details to take care of. The minute I was in the door, Emder was after me to sign this and that, what would happen with this and that, all of which I was in no mood for. I just wanted to be rid of the whole thing. I did manage to get what I wanted done, done though.
Walked down to the village for the last time this afternoon, and picked up my two pair of tailor-made pants and 12 extra passport photos. If I'd had the energy, I'd have gone and said goodbye to my grocers, but still feeling weak in the knees, and having had my fill of saying goodbye and explaining why I was leaving, I didn't.
I'd really wanted to spend most of Thursday and Friday free in the city, going around taking all the pictures I'd wanted and hadn't taken by now, but I missed that chance. But anyway, I got a roll of developed film back in the mail, and it seems that my Fujichrome is all out of date now. The whole roll's color had a sort of greenish tint to it. Ten rolls down the drain, and I have no film for my trip.
By 5 or 6 o'clock I felt hungry enough and well enough, always aware that it was my last night in Istanbul, to go out for a light dinner. Wolfgang and Dennis came over, and then, magically, out of a few casual words, a huge fight developed over the telephone with Dave Johnson, which ended with me calling him up, after Dennis and Wolfgang had dumped on him, and saying that we would not be taking him along to dinner. Dave has managed to make a lot of people very angry at him a number of times.
Dennis left angry too, and after 10 or 15 minutes, I called him and he said he'd go out along with us.
We went to Pizza Pino's, then dropped Dennis at the Marine House, it was Friday night, and Wolfgang drove me on home. I kept thinking I should feel very enthused and dramatic, last night in Istanbul, but it all felt very anti-climatic, maybe because I was still feeling in shaky health. Wolfgang invited me out for a last drink, but I felt that I just wanted to get home and go to bed.
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