Sinop is an interesting city with an Old World feel. There's a little barbershop on almost every block, and one morning I resolved to get a shave. I was apprehensive, not just because of the language barrier, but because I'd never done this before in any city. I pushed myself across the threshold and was soon leaning back in a rickety chair at the mercy of an exotic stranger who pressed a straight-edge razor to my throat. It was quite exciting, and that was before he burned the hair off my ears.
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This whole expedition was plagued by permit problems and because my papers were found to be particularly lacking in some way, I was allowed to stay on board for only three days at a time. This meant that on two occasions I was required to abruptly grab my bags and scramble off. Even though part of me was more than happy to switch my rocking bunk for a flat bed, there was something humiliating and vaguely Napoleonic about being publicly ferried back to shore in a little fishing boat—and I had to do it twice.
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After getting kicked off the Knorr for the second time, I caught a ride back to Istanbul with the guide and his girlfriend who had befriended me during my time in Sinop. It's about a ten-hour drive, and they are a modern Turkish couple with a new Subaru wagon and a folder full of CDs, many of which I also own. So of course I requested to hear some of those. Now whenever I hear Tom Waits, particularly his Mule Variations CD, I don't think of a desolate all-night coffee shop. I think of a highway between Sinop and Istanbul.
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