So I was chased across Istanbul by a mad man...

I'd only just landed in Instanbul. I'd had almost no sleep, and very little food. Little did I know, only moments after leaving the Hagia Sophia I would be chased across Istanbul, to the Grand Bazaar, and back out, by a crazy man with only one thing on his mind.

Well, the rolling edelweiss-covered hills of Austria are kind of similar to the black, imposing mountains of  Eastern Anatolia, in that they're both big and mountainous... but I guess the similarities stop there.

BUT it is a good title, as I'm going to tell you about the start of my trip to Turkey, which begun in Istanbul: Constantinople,the home of Christianity until 'The Great Schism' (a great name) in the11th century,  when Roman Catholicism split from Eastern Orthodoxy (theGreeks, the Balkans, etc.)

In fact, an awful lot of early Christian and Islamic history occured in Turkey. People forget that Christianity was even larger before the Great Schism. After  its 'ratification' by Roman Emperor Constantine in313 AD, and then being made the official religion in 380 AD by EmperorTheodosius, Christianity grew at an immense pace, dwarfing andabsorbing any of the existing polytheistic religions in Europe, andlater North and South America.

After the Schism, Christianity left much of Asia Minor, allowing thenew (relatively) Islamic religion to flourish, resulting in the almostpolarised West/East Christianity/Islamic geographical split that we seetoday.

Enough basic history of the region. Nowadays, Turkey is a secular/Islamic nation -- Islam is certainly the national religion, but it's not forced like in many other Middle-Eastern countries, and it's also not run with 'Islamic law' -- it has been a democracy since the fall of the Ottoman Empire, shortly after the First World War. Ataturk (Mustafa Kemal), with his revolutionary party formed a new, democratic government. It was a single-party system for about 30 years though, which made Ataturk a bit of a tyrant... but who cares, democracy is over-rated anyway. Maybe I'll rant about benevolent monarchy one day...

So... fast-forward to June 2007, and I'm at Heathrow airport. For some reason I booked a 7am flight to Istanbul -- something about making the most of my time there -- and as I simply couldn't get to Heathrow at 5am in the morning, my dad had taken me there at midnight, to wait for 5 hours. It's amazing just how hard it is to sleep on a steel chair, with solid metal arm-rests between each. No way to lay down, no way to sprawl, and a camera and laptop worth worth over £5000. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep, surrounded by other crazy travelers that also thought a 5-hour nap on a metal bench was agood idea.

After a 3 hour flight (about 90% of the cute girls I saw in Turkey were on the planes), I was in Istanbul, tired, but ready to go! The first thing I noticed were the cobbles. Ancient, well-worn and gappy cobbles. If you've been to Rome, you have some idea of what it's like to walk on cobbles that have irregular few-inch gaps between them. Luckily I had hiking boots, or I'd probably still be nursing a complex ankle fracture. These cobbles surrounded the Sultanahmet region -- the core of old Istanbul -- the region that features both the Blue Mosqu eand Hagia Sophia. The Hagia Sophia was the largest cathedral in theworld for over a 1000 years. It's been standing since 500AD,and for a long time was the center of the Eastern Orthodox religion,until the Ottoman Turks came marching in, in 1453AD, and converted it into a mosque.

Not many people know this, but most mosques and old Christian churches look almost identical, because almost all early mosques were converted sites of Christian worship -- and the design of the basilica(dome) goes back even further, to the Roman and Greek pantheon of Gods. Religion is awfully incestuous and plagiarised...

After an awe-inspiring trudge around both of the mosques (in theSophia I had to pretend I was a Muslim so that I could get inside the area of worship to take some photos -- I'm such a rebel), I stepped outside into a beautiful day now wide-awake, and ready to absorb as much of Istanbul as I could in 4 days. Little did I know, I was about to be accosted.

While I was trying to find my bearings, I asked a pleasant-looking man if he knew the way to the Grand Bazaar. 'Just head in that direction, it's about 15 minutes away.' Giving him my thanks, I headed off, big camera around my neck, and looking every part the affluent tourist. It was after the second road-crossing that I noticed the guy that gave me directions was following me. He was keeping his distance,but he was certainly following me... and gaining.

As my pulse picked up its pace, so did my stride. It seemed I was about to have my very first chase around the dirty back streets of Istanbul only hours after arriving. I was about to be Aladdin, fleeing from the guards, with just an apple for protection. Sure, I didn't have a pet monkey called Aboo, or anywhere near the same amount of dexterity, but damn, I was excited!

Ducking into a side-street I quickly caught my breath. Being a computer geek, it probably comes as no surprise that my muscle tone isn't fantastic. My fingers, well, they are finely-honed, agileimplements capable of typing at 150 words per minute. But my legs and heart? Not so great. Back at university, when I was a little moreactive, it might've been a different story, but now I'm in some darkalley panting and wheezing.

It wasn't until last year that I finally caught up with all of the Godfather/American Gangster films, so at the time I didn't realise this, but the sun coming from behind me created a perfect silhouette. My persistent pursuer saw me clearly in the alley, smiled a little creepily and started to close the gap. It's then that I did something I hadn't done for about 10 years: I sprinted. With my legs wobbling beneath me, head pounding and my heart trying its best to leap out of my chest, I started to put some distance between us.

I should've figured at the time, by the way he was striding quickly but with delicious intent, that I wasn't going to get away. He surely knew it; it's just a shame I didn't -- I probably took a year or two off my life, running around Istanbul like a spastic, with hardly anysleep (and a meager Turkish Airlines breakfast).

Eventually, I found myself outside the Grand Bazaar.It wasn't quite what I expected -- I expected more of an open-air affair, like the one in Aladdin. Apparently that kind of bazaar is more common in Egypt and Morocco. In Istanbul you have this massive maze of crisscrossing streets; narrow streets, lined with shops, each one armed with an owner trying to sell you his wares. I explored for a while,figuring the guy couldn't possibly be following me through such a massive throng of people. I even stopped for a 20-cent class of freshly squeezed orange juice and marveled at how the same thing could cost 8euros in the Istanbul airport.

I even bought a nice piece of silk that my girlfriend would later turn her nose up at, because she preferred the emerald bracelet I bought. Women, huh. I thought it was diamonds that were the key to a girl's heart...

Before long, I caught a glimpse of my predator behind me. Somehow he'd kept up with me; I guess he just knew the area a whole lot better than some pesky tourist. My trip to the Bazaar was over and I headed out, along some tiny street, back towards the mosques. To be honest, I was starting to tire, and my rationality had started to kick back in. I really doubted that he wanted to kill me, in broad daylight, surroundedby hundreds of tourists. So I promptly stopped and sat down with my back against a wall, waiting for him to catch up.

Muhammad: You come buy some carpets? My uncle's shop is just around the corner.
Seb: wheezing. You must be kidding. You followed me, to make sure I went to your uncle's store to buy a... carpet?
Muhammad: Yes. Follow me, sir.

And so I had my first, true Turkish experience. 'Apple tea,sir?' Sure, don't mind if I do. I found out later that if they really like you, they get out the liquor -- some kind of brandy -- but they obviously didn't like me all that much, after I hauled ass half way across central Istanbul, as they only offered me apple tea.

For about an hour a guy tried to flog me carpets that ranged from 250 euros to about 4000 euros -- and that was just for the small ones. 'This one would be a lovely gift to your mother.' Sorry mum, but I just don't love you enough. It was informative though, and I learnt all sorts of exciting things, like the number of knots per square inch, and how silk carpets are far superior to other threads. It takes about 9months for some young woman, in a hut somewhere in the Eastern mountains of Turkey to weave a 1 meter silk rug -- thus the insane price, the man said.

I finally managed to get out of the shop -- it took about 20 minutes from me standing up, to actually being allowed out of the shop -- I couldn't help but think I'd really upset these guys by not buying acarpet. I'd sipped their tea, and rubbed my feet on their rugs. I'd flaunted their hospitality.

Then I reminded myself that a creepy guy called Muhammad had stalked me across Istanbul. Something told me this was just the opening act of a trip that would turn end up being far more interesting than I had anticipated.

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