Notes of Travel, Pt. II

Thanks to a fortuitous current we made Constantinople in record time. It has been said that Jason and his mighty Argonautic fleet sailed right past this city in their search for the Golden Fleece – frankly I cannot blame them.


Without the firm, guiding hand of the Sultans this town has become a real flat tire. Those damned Europeans have begun installing electric lights, trams and safe bridges. All traces of the city’s colorful history have been swept into the Bosporus! Where are my eunuchs to laugh at? My street dogs to kick? My harem girls to romance?

Ah, well. I’ll have another glass of arrack and find myself a Frenchman to kick. That usually makes me feel better.