The modestly priced Hotel Turkuaz was described by one prominent guidebook as 'the maximum Ottoman ambience'. It's more bed and breakfast than hotel, located on a quiet cobbled residential street in the Sultanahmet, the oldest part of Istanbul. It was richly ornamented with original features including wooden ceilings, blue tiled floors and walls, marble fountains, stained-glass windows, and authentic Turkish rugs. A Turkish soap opera was being filmed in the lobby the day we arrived. Few hotels have provided me with such a splendid look into the past but we hadn't come all this way to spend our time in a captivating hotel.

A pair of well-worn friends dominate the view of the old city. The Hagia Sophia is the 6th century basilica whose great dome and vast covered space remained unequaled the world over for a thousand years. Beside it is the Blue Mosque, or Sultan Ahmet, the Ottoman response to the architectural challenge that the Hagia Sophia, by then converted to a mosque, presented. Next door is the Hippodrome, the center of Byzantine and Ottoman sporting and political life for over 1400 years. Imagine the roar of the crowds as the chariots race around the oblong track; the chariot drivers facing certain death in the event of an accident. And if you can imagine that, you need to cut back on your drug dosage. The Hippodrome is now a serene park geared more towards taking a nap or consuming adult beverages than ratcheting up your blood pressure. Further up and down the hill are more floodlit gray and white marble mosques, their cascading domes and half domes and sharp minarets painting the fantasies I've always had of the fabled Arabian nights. The original boundaries of 4th century Constantinople are still traceable by a walk along a perimeter of walls.

Many large cities have their trademark citizen -- Venetian gondoliers, London taxi drivers, Parisian waiters. In Istanbul it is the carpet dealers. And if you want to shop then the Grand or Covered Bazaar (Kapali Carsi) is the place to be. Located in the heart of the old city, it is perhaps the world's first super mall. With more than 4,000 shops on fifty acres, the bazaar's maze of streets and alleys, interrupted by tea stands and old coffeehouses, seems thrillingly confusing. Next door is the Egyptian Spice Bazaar (Misir Carsisi) which kidnapped me with the aroma of the wonderful Kurrukahveci coffee shop. With the original 1930s decorations still in place and the rich odors of roasting coffee waffling through the air, I found myself wondering about possible franchise opportunities back home in Austin, Texas.

Isnackbul

Bowls of long grain rice with chickpeas loaded down with pepper rings provides the second rush of carbohydrates. Also popular are the fish sandwiches or balik e met. The fish are fried or grilled on small rocking boats docked at the piers along the Bosphorous. Served on soft crusty rolls, patrons garnish their treasures with cooked tomatoes, onions and long skinny peppers. This concoction is greedily washed down with Ayran, a popular room temperature fresh yogurt drink that reminds me of sour milk. Or take a long refreshing swig of turshu suyu, or what I call pickle water. Although typically the juice from pickled vegetables such as cucumbers, cabbage, and beets, this strange beverage is rumored to be very effective in easing hangovers. You'll need to know this after a long night of drinking raki; the ever-popular anise flavored drink. Got the munchies from a late night of partying? Then try kokorec; a popular snack made from braided lamb intestines. Still feeling adventurous? Dozens of tiny kiosks serve what some refer to as Turkish Soul Food. This includes tripe soup, lamb's trotter soup, and even roasted lamb's head. Top this off with kimiz, a central Asian alcoholic beverage made from fermented mare's milk, and you will sleep like a baby. Which is true: I woke once an hour and threw up.

Istanbul's more lasting treasures are less tangible. Embracing foreigners is part of the Turkish way of life. This was evident within our first two hours. Lost in the maze of the many unmarked streets of the old city, we frequently had to stop and consult the map. Immediately, shop keepers, pedestrians, and even taxi drivers would rush to our aid. Of course, one good Samaritan told us our hotel had just recently burned down but he could put us up at his uncle's hotel for a very good price. I pointed out that it must have been a pretty quick fire as I had spoken with the hotel owner only an hour earlier. As helpful and supportive as all of these kind souls were, I soon realized why none of the world's great explorers were Turks. These were a people who couldn't find their ass with both hands. No sooner would we get fresh directions to our hotel than the next helpful passer-by would tell us that we were heading the wrong way. Finally, the most unlikely candidate rescued us.

A pint-sized storm