By April, I was getting cabin fever (Switzerland’s the cabin here, since it’s 1/250th the size of the United States). I hadn’t left the country since December, when we went to Hong Kong!

Unacceptable.

So as usual, we booked a last-minute trip, this time to Turkey, dividing the week between Istanbul and the Cappadocia region.

Istanbul was surprisingly pleasant. It was impeccably clean, friendly, generous, and bustling but not overwhelming.

Istanbul from Galata Tower

We arrived in Istanbul in the afternoon and took a commuter train and tram to the city center. A tip: if you’re comfortable using public transportation in other cities, ride Istanbul’s trams. It’s easy to navigate and way cheaper than cabs (we each paid the equivalent of $2 to get into the city from the airport; a cab would cost about ten times as much). The trams can get crowded at rush hour times, though, so it’s not the best choice if you have bulky luggage.

We stayed at the Basileus Hotel, tucked away in a quiet part of the Sultanahmet neighborhood, five minutes from the Sultanahmet (Blue) Mosque. I recommend it.

Our first evening, we had dinner at Amedros (recommended by our hotel host). We shared an entrée called the Sultan’s Palace: a lamb stew with figs, vegetables and rice based on a 16th-century recipe. Accompanied by a bottle of Turkish red wine. The Sultan’s Palace was so incredibly delicious I was worried that no other meal on the trip would compare (don’t worry, I was wrong!).

It's a little dark, but here you can see the Sultan's Feast stew. It was served in a small cast-iron pot that stayed warm over a flame next to our table.

After dinner we shared a yummy blackberry torte at Grande Café (no website, but it’s on Divanlyou Caddesi in Sultanahmet) and took some photos of the Blue Mosque courtyard before it closed. You can see Wojtek’s photos of the Blue Mosque here, here, and here.

To kick off the third Zurich Writers Workshop weekend, Diccon Bewes (Swiss Watching) and Sam North (The Old Country) will read from their works. The reading will be hosted at Europe’s largest English-language bookstore and will be followed by a casual apéro with snacks and drinks. Whether or not you are attending the workshop, we hope to see you at the reading!

When: May 18, 20:15 – 22:00

Where: Orell Füssli The Bookshop, Bahnhofstrasse 70, Zurich

On New Year’s Day this year, I splattered hot oil all over my arm while making dinner. It was Sunday, and a holiday, and evening, and I was in pain and becoming alarmed by the burning red spots on my arm.

Yes, I could have gone to a hospital emergency room, but so far I haven’t been inside a Swiss hospital (and now that I think of it, I’ve never sought treatment in any hospital), and nothing about sitting in an ER waiting room on New Year’s Day sounded appealing.

Luckily, I knew of another option. Permanence is an urgent care center located in Zürich Hauptbahnhof. It is open every day of the year, and the staff are approachable and competent. Within an hour of burning myself, my arm was wrapped like a mummy and I was collecting a 1kg tub of burn cream from the adjacent pharmacy. (As a side note, I was treated almost immediately upon arrival, given that treating a burn is time sensitive. Patients with less-urgent urgent-care needs may need to wait a bit.)

Permanence at Zürich HB (under the blue awnings)

Navigating the Swiss health care system can be intimidating, so it’s comforting to know about resources that can make dealing with an urgent situation easier.

Recently, I’ve been able to slog my way through pretty complicated discussions in German, only to be tripped up right at the end by the simplest of questions. An example dialogue, from the pharmacy.

Dialogue in German until otherwise noted.

Me: I want to pick up medicine for my husband. <Then the whole ordeal of spelling his crazy name.>

Pharmacist: Um, you’re not in our system.

Me: Our doctor phoned in the prescription this morning.

Pharmacist: <Goes back to find it.> Ah yes, here it is.

Me: Um, but I don’t have his health insurance card. <And the pharmacy will be closed by the time he gets home.>

Pharmacist: Maybe you can just pay for the medicines now, and you can send in the receipts to your insurance company later.

Me: Okay, let’s do that.

Pharmacist: Oh, but two of these medicines we have to mix ourselves, and that will take a few hours. You’ll have to come back tomorrow to pick those up. Oh, and two of these other medicines we don’t have here right now and will have to order from another pharmacy.

Me: Okay, well, can I take this prescription to another pharmacy and see if they have what I need?

Pharmacist: Yes, but they’ll still have to mix two of the creams, so it’s not possible to get everything you need today. So, you can pay now for what we have available, then you can either take the prescription to another pharmacy and see if they have the rest, or you can leave it here and pick up everything else tomorrow. OR you can take the medicines we have now home with you, and when you bring in your husband’s insurance card tomorrow to pick up everything else we can charge it all directly to your insurance.

Me: Okay, let’s go with that last option.

Pharmacist: <She collects the available medicines and fills in a bunch of stuff on the computer. I provide our address and telephone number.> Okay, so you take these with you now, and come back tomorrow afternoon for the rest.

Me: Okay, great. <It looks like I’m in the clear. But wait…>

The pharmacist asks something I don’t immediately understand. It has something to do with writing, and she’s drawing an imaginary square on the box of medicine. What could it mean what could it MEAN?!?!

Random gentleman I didn’t even know was there but has obviously been eavesdropping: <In English> Can I help? Do you speak English? She wants to know if she should write the dosage on the box.

Me: <to myself: UGH FAILURE! I’VE GOT IT UNDER CONTROL OLD MAN I JUST NEED A MINUTE!>

Me: <trying to maintain my dignity in front of what I now notice is a pharmacy full of people who have no doubt been wincing in pain and/or smirking in Schadenfreude watching me. I continue in German.> No, he already knows the dosage.

I collect the medicines, say that I’ll return tomorrow with Wojtek’s insurance card and leave in a cloud of shame.

As if Hong Kong weren’t enough of an Asian-British cultural mish-mash, Macau throws Portugal into the mix! Macau was a Portuguese colony until 1999, and the cultural mark left behind is startling.

Street in Macau

Street in Lisbon

Our favorite part of Macau was our dinner of street food, starting with Portuguese custard tarts…

Haha, I lie. These were from Lisbon, but the tarts in Macau were exactly the same.

followed by a half hour of sampling beef and pork jerky…

Jerky by the kilo

before settling on a half sheet each of black pepper premium beef and honey roasted beef jerky.

That's some tasty jerky.

We needed some fruits and veggies to balance all the fat we’d just eaten, so we chowed on some corn…

A balanced street meal includes a corn cob.

and washed it all down with sugar cane and kiwi juice.

Kiwi juice!