We arrived in Istanbul yesterday, the first big waymark on the journey home.

We left Derbyshire on Thursday 13, and it has been a bit of a whirlwind since.





First new stop: Burton-on-Trent, Staffordshire. This was a late addition to the itinerary, because we found we could get cheaper flights to Istanbul on Saturday, and so needed an interim night's accommodation.

Burton is surprisingly hard to find, we discovered. Having ignored the sign saying "North Burton" (on the grounds we wanted the middle of Burton), we ended up driving right past the town, and having to double back.

We parked up near the Town Hall and St Paul's Church. Both lovely:







But where was everything else? The shops? The cafes? The river?

To find all that, you have to head east, past the railway station. On the way, you'll see lots of fine red brick, and much evidence of Burton's beer-brewing specialization (which you can also smell):



The Trent here is the same as the Trent in dear old Newark:






We stayed at the brand-new Ibis Styles, on the outskirts of the town, and we really rated it. The rooms, which are a very decent size, come complete with microwave, coffee press, crockery, and sink. We wished we were staying longer... And, for future reference, given it's only an hour from here to Birmingham Airport, this place could well serve as a pre- or post-flight overnighter. (On Friday, we stayed at the equivalent Ibis Styles actually at the airport, and -- although it was perfectly adequate -- phrases to the effect of "oh, it's not as good as Burton" came up repeatedly.)

Anyway, on the way to the airport overnighter, we stopped off at Atherstone, Warwickshire. Which is delightful:














The other thing that Atherstone has that's very useful is Dobbies Garden Centre. "Garden centre" is a bit of a misnomer, as there are all sorts of outlets here, including a Cotswold Outdoors, which was able to sell me the kind of industrial sandals that I routinely wear in Kuching, but can't buy there.

Having relieved ourselves of our trusty hire car, we stayed the night at the aforementioned Ibis Styles. And if you don't want a carby and/or expensive hotel meal, it's an easy walk to M&S Food in the terminal...


Which brings us to yesterday, Saturday. On the move again:


It's a while since we've flown out through Birmingham. I think 2018 was the last time. Frankly, it'll be a while before I'll choose to do so again. It's a hassly airport.

I know. All airports -- apart from the truly wonderful ones like Singapore -- are hassly. But Birmingham does hassle in spades. Security, for example. You get all excited because you're not required to extract computers from bags. But then you have to take your coat off, and your fleece off, and your shoes off... Having got yourself dressed again, you emerge into a low-ceilinged, incredibly hot hub, where there's really not enough room to accommodate waiting passengers.

I try not to bleat about air travel. It has to be done. I acknowledge I'm privileged to be able to do it. And flying makes a up a tiny percentage of our travel time.

But seriously... When was the last time you had to access the plane via a set of steps, in the rain? And this particular plane is packed to the gunwales, so they're asking passengers not to block the aisles while stowing their hand luggage. What are you supposed to do? Hurl it into the bins from your seat? Plus, there are apparently only two toilets for cattle class, so there's a never-ending queue. To the extent that the staff are asking people to sit back down, and they'll be called. Yeah, right... Like that'll happen...


We didn't fall out of the sky, and the meal was nice. That's pretty much all I can say. I still wear a mask on aeroplanes. With a mask on, and my eyes shut, and my earphones playing the latest book I'm listening to, I'm able to create a little cocoon of space that just about keeps me sane. But you're longing for it to be over from the minute you get on. Which is so not the case with train travel.

I'm not a fan of Istanbul airport either, to be honest, but it does arrivals much better than departures. We were through immigration really quickly. Our bags were ready for us on the carousel. And it was easy to find the bus that would take us to Kadikoy. True, the first vending machine wedged our bottle of water in its innards, so that we couldn't reach it, and had to try again with another machine. True, the bus takes ages (but it's so much cheaper than a taxi that it's hard to argue).

We have a nice little flat in Kadikoy, on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, and we're unshouldering the rucksacks by 2100.

And it's Istanbul... Unmistakable. There are seagulls hooning around well into the night. A cat followed us most of the way up the hill from the supermarket, chatting about the price of Go-Cat. Everywhere is still pretty lively.

You have your first Efes beer and stringy cheese, and neither has ever tasted so good:



And today -- after a really late start, because a three-hour time difference is somehow worse than a seven-hour one, and because there was washing to be done, and recovering to be done -- we went for a little walk around an area that we know reasonably well, since we stayed here in 2023, on our way to Bulgaria (and thence to London).





We have three days to enjoy it, and then we're off again.