Istanbul, another day

After the peaceful walk around the neighborhood on Monday, we slept well. We awaited dawn, and then realized  that dawn had occurred three hours earlier, and we had less than an hour to get down to breakfast before the restaurant stopped serving at 10:00 a.m... those room darkening drapes really worked.
It was a sumptuous feast for breakfast: scrambled eggs, potatoes, boiled eggs, another kind of potato, biscuits, muffins, bagels, sweets, dozens of cheeses, olives, fruits, tomatoes, pancakes, honey from the comb, Turkish cheese pasta, and dried figs. It was nice to taste a fresh dried fig. It seems that in the USA, the dried figs have been in the bag a long time, have sugared immensely, and it is really hard to find the fig taste. We ate a little of everything. The baby tasted some of it, charmed the waiters, and the other attendants.
But that was not the only meal that day. Meg had to meet her peers at the Hilton for lunch at 1. Undaunted by the traffic, we proceeded in the direction of the Hilton following a map. It was a short walk, they said. We walked, and walked some more for about twenty minutes. We saw some nice parks, and turned onto a boulevard that was practically deserted, except for a few taxis and buses. It was hard to imagine that the Hilton was so far out of the normal traffic. It wasn't. Our map led us to a huge driveway, and a security station. The Hilton was there. It was extremely tall because we were entering through the sub basement, two stories below the lobby. Another security man came to meet us, and put me, with the stroller on a loading lift, and let us off at the dock. We followed him past workers moving tables and chairs in and out of storage. We saw where they put the wine glasses after they were used. We saw and heard the dishwashers humming and the food being prepared. We were in the bowels of the hotel, a sight seldom if ever seen by tourists.. A more detailed map would have spared us this interesting detour into the workings of the Hilton.
Meg found her luncheon, and Khaled and I were left to our own devices. He had lunch in one of the cafes off the lobby, had his diaper changed, and charmed the people who were trying to do their business. I asked for a new map, borrowed napkins to clean up the baby's face, and prepared myself for the afternoon of touring.
I like to walk. We went out the front of the hotel, which was indeed only five minutes walk from our hotel. I proceeded down the main drag, Istikial Cadesi, and walked through some tough areas that were under construction. The cobblestones were in disrepair, so we walked in the street. We dodged taxis, buses and motorcycles, and after about half an hour arrived at the Pera, a private museum, that has five floors of displays. The first two floors house antiquities. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pera_Museum
The Upper three floors have contemporary displays of art and photography. We started on the fifth floor. Perhaps the most engaging display there was a series of photographs taken at a demonstration in Taksim Square last May. The photos showed a combination of bravery and brutality as the demonstrators were dispersed with clubs and tear gas. The governor of the state defended the police action by reminding the people that it is illegal to demonstrate in Turkey. It was hard to believe that this had taken place at the square that seemed so peaceful to us the night before. When we left the museum, we followed the signs to Taksim. Men, old and young, helped to lift the stroller over the rough patches and barriers in the street under construction.
Khaled and I relaxed in our room for a while, and soon Meg called. "We are going out to dinner at a place near Taksim Square. I will meet you at the monument, near where we took a picture last night."  "Okay" I said, "see you in a little while". (More to come.)