They invariably carry with them a boktcha, or bundle, containing a rug and picnic requisites, while one of the party carries a red clay pitcher, with water. Water is an indispensable requisite with Turks, and they will enjoy drinking it from the pitcher as much as from a glass.
A TURKISH LADY IN OUTDOOR DRESS.
The rug spread out, the party will all sit cross-legged upon it, and as other groups of women also congregate in the same place, dressed in garments of variegated colours, you would imagine yourself amid beds of many-coloured tulips, while the boys and girls playing around suggest fluttering butterflies.
The enjoyment of the women consists in smoking cigarettes, and gazing between each puff at the glorious scenery. Vendors of all sorts of eatables surround them, and, we will say, a shekerdgi, or dealer in sweeties, answers to their call, and places his circular tray, which he carries on his head, on the tripod-stand which he rests on the ground. The children flock around him, puzzled what to choose in that array of Turkish delight and shekers of every kind and colour. At last a choice is made, and the sweets are placed in a brown-paper bag shaped like a cone, and shared by the party. Shortly afterwards an Albanian selling halva as described in Chapter II., is called to contribute his wares. Then walnuts, pistachios, and peanuts come in for their turn, then ices, maybe, and something more solid in the shape of simits, or ring-cakes, as shown in the illustration in Chapter II. At sunset the boktchas are made up, and the party wends its way home to partake of a more substantial meal.
But should the night be bright, with moonlight, the party often start out again, and prolong their enjoyment until late hours, or until a policeman or old Turk passing by reminds them it is time to retire. It is amusing, in connection with these moonlight promenades, to see the women walking about or sitting with open sunshades to protect themselves from the lunar rays, imagining, no doubt, that they occasion lunacy.
Sometimes a too close proximity to the Bosphorus is selected for spreading the family rug, and an unusually large wash from a steamer passing by breaks unexpectedly on the shore, showering clouds of spray over the women's heads. The cold douche sets them all on their feet, screaming, and the bed of tulips now looks like one dashed by a storm.