From Cairo to the Connemara: A Sojournal

Pt2 - 2: EVERYTHING ISTANBUL Coming to you now from room 421, where the curtains are exactly too small for the window and the central heating system cranks like the engines of Hell, a considerable improvement on the racket which kept us awake until the wee smalls last night. Imagine an elf ripping up bedsheets in your head, that’s the sound which assailed us about half eight as we caught up with the latest on CNN. After more than an hour of this carry-on I stuck my nose out to investigate and discovered the noise emanated from three overweight middle-aged women a few doors down the hall. Dressed only in their knickers and pantyhose, they were busily wrapping a bale of plastic in a thick skin of packing tape. The bale was so big it blocked the corridor. They giggled and yelled at each other when they noticed me but kept on with their wrapping regardless. I wasn’t entirely sure whether confronting them was the right thing for a foreign male to attempt, so I bravely left it up to Tess to ...