September 16, 2004
Belly Dancing Our Way Out of Istanbul
Our last evening in Istanbul went out with a bang, not a whimper (why we always do this to ourselves on travel days I'll never know...). After a yummy dinner we were determined to stay up past midnight (we simply aren't the partiers we once were I hate to say) and rounded out the evening back at the "Orient Hostel" for a nightcap (or 10) and a probably less than traditional belly dance.
Said dancer was...how shall I put it...smoking hot. Probably tired of the open-jawed males and females alike she induced a bit of crowd participation by pulling out a couple of inebriated backpackers to join her. Apparently the Aussie bartendress we had recently befriended noticed our amusement at these hip-wiggling drunkards as she pointed to us as the dancer scanned the room for her next victim.
I have to say there are worse places to be stuck than between to swaying gorgeous blonds. Unfortunately the fellow working the camera did not quite understand how the new-fangled contraption worked, so yet again yours truly is missing from the pic, but thankfully he got the most important parts: the hottest woman in Istanbul (below in orange) and second hottest (right):
Headless Jim and the dancing trio
Unforunately the evening's festivities left the two thirty-somethings more than a little worse for wear, making our 12 hour bus ride to Cappadocia just a little bit more painful...
Our last evening in Istanbul went out with a bang, not a whimper (why we always do this to ourselves on travel days I'll never know...). After a yummy dinner we were determined to stay up past midnight (we simply aren't the partiers we once were I hate to say) and rounded out the evening back at the "Orient Hostel" for a nightcap (or 10) and a probably less than traditional belly dance.
Said dancer was...how shall I put it...smoking hot. Probably tired of the open-jawed males and females alike she induced a bit of crowd participation by pulling out a couple of inebriated backpackers to join her. Apparently the Aussie bartendress we had recently befriended noticed our amusement at these hip-wiggling drunkards as she pointed to us as the dancer scanned the room for her next victim.
I have to say there are worse places to be stuck than between to swaying gorgeous blonds. Unfortunately the fellow working the camera did not quite understand how the new-fangled contraption worked, so yet again yours truly is missing from the pic, but thankfully he got the most important parts: the hottest woman in Istanbul (below in orange) and second hottest (right):
Headless Jim and the dancing trio
Unforunately the evening's festivities left the two thirty-somethings more than a little worse for wear, making our 12 hour bus ride to Cappadocia just a little bit more painful...
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