Igor supposes some of you want apologies. Obviously there are fans out there who are so devoted to Igor's travels that they have been waiting for updates with baited breath. Igor even received word that one fan was determined to hold her breath until the next update. (Don't worry, she was safely taken to the hospital; although Igor would like to point out that he is not liable for her medical issues, in the past, present, or future.). However, Igor denies that the lack of updates is his fault. Clearly, he has bigger, more important issues to attend to; furthermore, if anyone is to be faulted from the infrequent updates, it's painfully obvious that person should be Heeseung, the one with the ability to type, aka the brawn of the operation (Igor clearly posses both the brains and beauty, though).

It has been a bit over two months since this blog has been dusted off. As per usual, Igor cannot divulge the details of why he has not been responding, because such information is top secret, to be released on a need know basis only. However, Heeseung suspects it may have to do with Igor's extreme laziness -- but Igor cannot confirm this. (No offense; chances are you simply aren't important enough.)

When Igor last posted, he was nearing the last leg of his London trip. Now, he has long since left that dreaded place (proof of its awfulness: It dared to become sunny just as he was about to leave! What an impertinent place!). Igor may have been a little sad to leave the nasty, grey land, if he could be bothered to feel sadness. But obviously such emotions are unnecessary for someone as grand as Igor.

So instead, Igor has moved on, with Heeseung still at his side. (Unfortunately. Shockingly, no one better suited for the job applied. Who knew so much unqualified rabble existed in this world, honestly. Is it really so hard to be just the slightest bit competent?)

In any case, having successfully (more or less) conquered London (the important bits, at least), Igor decided to move on to New York, where he has been dined and wined by the elite (although none have been as elite as himself, of course), been underwhelmed by cultural activities, and sweated his shell off in the New York heat and humidity. In short, Igor has been less than impressed, although that is to be expected for a Turtle Who Has Seen It All (including a short stint in Brazil last week, with a brief detour to Texas, which, if Igor wasn't immune to making mistakes, would have to be called a mistake because, honestly, who ever goes to Texas?)

Regardless, such is the nature of Igor's current activities (minus all the top secret ones he can't tell you about because, well, you know...). For those of you who absolutely need to know more about Igor's life, see what he's eat here. Otherwise, wait here to read more, although Igor cannot stress enough that you shouldn't hold your breath for updates because if you should restrict your flow of oxygen and pass out, there isn't one iota of a chance that you will receive any sort of settlement money from Igor because it will be wholly your fault, &tc., &tc.

Igor has been very put out as of late. When one is as busy and important as Igor is, vacations are rare and fleeting, to be cherished like the precious sun upon Igor's gleaming, gloriously green shell. But now, not only has the sun of Istanbul disappeared, but the drudgery of London has somehow worsened, much to Igor's disbelief, with periods of great downpour and extended periods of grey half-light. Igor is appalled and cannot believe the nerve of London. If Igor weren’t so desperately needed in London (on some very important, very secret business. He’d tell you if you were more important.), he would be on an unnamed private island in the Caribbean right now. But alas, with great wisdom, beauty, and power comes great responsibility.

In an attempt to boost Igor’s spirits (after all, morale is essential here), Igor’s doting minions have made considerable exertions (not, of course, that Igor's high maintenance). Clearly, Igor’s hectic life was lacking something, and finally, it has been realized that the missing element in Igor’s demanding life is parties. Of course, the theme of every party should be Igor, Igor, and, obviously, more Igor, but unfortunately, Igor simply cannot be so easily replicated. And so Igor’s minions have had to brainstorm to create other amusing themes.

So far, they have come up with an "E"-themed party, where everyone had to dress up as something that beging with "E" (obviously to honor "EE-gor," although it happened to coincide with the birthdays of two underlings, whose names were Elsie and Erica, or something like that -- Igor can't be bothered to know for sure); a passover-themed party (obviously to honor Igor's return to London from Istanbul as he passed over the Continent, although it happened to coincide with the holiday, Passover); and next will be an animal-themed party, where everyone will dress up as animals (to honor Igor, but obviously, no one can dress as a turtle because they simply will not be able to compare with Igor).

Hopefully, with these morale-boosters, Igor will once again be in fighting condition to face the drab dreariness of spring showers.

(Please note there was supposed to be a beautiful photograph of Igor atop a bed of flowers here; unfortunately, Igor's handler, Heeseung, has failed to keep Igor's files in tip-top shape and has lost the photograph -- consequently, the world loses out on a lovely image. This is why Igor must get new help. Applications will open 5 April, 2010.)

When Igor last posted on his blog, he was in the process of making his way to Istanbul. What was in store for him, he had no idea, but with a brave and adventurous heart, he set forth to make his way to lands unknown. Or known by others but not by him. So in other words, unknown (after all, it isn't known or worth knowing until Igor knows it).

Igor stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel in Sultanahmet, where he mixed with the usual crowd -- sultans and olive oil exporters and silk traders and the like -- while Heeseung and a fellow suffering devoted minion stayed at the more modest Tulip Guesthouse, a short stone's throw away, where they woke up to the sun:

and ate breakfast (soft, crusty rolls, sweet and tart jams, yogurt, cheese, olives, tomatoes, apples, and helva) to a view of the Marmara Sea and the Asia side of Istanbul every morning:

Heeseung and Taryn (more commonly known to Igor as minion 3) enjoyed the comfort of their lodgings but Igor had some business to conduct around Istanbul (despite having gone for a vacation, but such is the life of an important and powerful turtle), and thus minions 1 and 3 gamely made their way out and around Istanbul so that Igor may cover more ground during his trip.

Their first stop on Monday was the Grand Bazaar, a covered market that opened in the mid-1400s to fund the restoration of Aya Sofya as a mosque (before a cathedral, now a museum). According to Wikipedia (which is almost as all-knowing as Igor), the Grand Bazaar contains over 58 covered streets and 1,200 shops. Igor estimates he visited approximately 1,195 of the shop in search for the perfect carpet for his countryside manor in Ireland.

Later on Monday, Igor and co. went to a fusion restaurant called East & West on the tip of Osman and Ahmet the carpetsellers. The fare was different from what Igor usually eats, but in the spirit of adventure, he went, and, of course, the food was good (because Igor only eats good food).

Tuesday, Igor decided to take a ferry tour of the Bosphorous Strait, the line of separation between Europe and Asia. There were dolphins, jellyfish, and birds. Igor was not pleased. However, the view was quite nice on the eyes, so Igor may forgive the excessive wildlife this time.

Following the Bosphorus boat tour, Igor found himself in the vicinity of the Spice Bazaar, where Igor may have eaten four times his weight in dried nuts, figs, apricots, and, of course, a vast variety of lokum, or Turkish Delights. It was a chore, but Igor was of course able to step up to the challenge, for the sake of quality control. The things he does for the common people.

Wednesday, the weather failed Igor for the first time, recalling to mind cold, grey London weather. Igor charged on, however, because he doesn't let such trifling matters stop him (he was bundled under no fewer than four scarves, however). On Wednesday, Igor went to the Blue Mosque,

and Topkapi Palace, which was nice, but Igor wasn't particularly interested in buying it (his latest acquisition can be seen further down).

Thursday, due to a lack of research misinformation from a number of sources, Igor failed to go anywhere, but instead spent the majority of the day hopelessly lost wandering and exploring the city. Then, Igor decided to unwind by going to a Turkish bath that was built in 1475.
Igor was picked up and driven in silence to the bathhouse late in the darkness of night, where he was the only customer for the duration of his bath. He was scrubbed, lathered, and massaged to an inch of his life by a large, mostly naked, non-English-speaking Turkish woman. It was not an experience Igor can say was particularly enjoyable, although his skin, admittedly, has never been softer.

The following day, Igor, now completely soft and smooth, headed over to Dolmabahçe Palace, where he surveyed his latest property acquisition. While the palace was undergoing some renovations, Igor saw the potential of the palace to be a place of future residence and is in the process of negotiating its purchase.

The palace's interior was decorated by the same man who worked on the Paris Opera House. Igor approves.

In the center hall of the palace, there is a 4.5 tonne crystal chandelier, purchased from Queen Victoria. Igor approves of this, despite the fact that it takes a few months to clean the chandelier, and thus it is only cleaned once every six or seven years. The things people do for beauty. (Igor knows the lengths people go through firsthand -- being beautiful and maintaining such beauty is, after all, a full-time job.)

After visiting his future home, Igor visited Taksim, a very modern shopping area of Istanbul. Igor heartily disliked it, mainly because of the pigeons. More than any beast or bird, Igor hates pigeons. They're dirty, they're annoying when they coo, and they think they're cool because they walk when they're really supposed to fly. Awful.

Recovering from his encounter with the disease-infested flying rats, Igor made his way by the Bospohorus once again to eat a fish sandwich (balik ekmek): freshly caught fish grilled and slapped onto half a loaf of fresh bread with lettuce and onion, seasoned with lemon juice and salt. Eating like a commoner was an invigorating experience for Igor, and he was shocked to find that the sandwich was ... tasty??!

Now fully energized from his sandwich, Igor made his way to Aya Sofya, where he is embarrassed to say he was swindled by an 82-year old man who spat a little when he spoke. This, of course, was not Igor's fault; minions 1 and 3 were supposed to keep an eye out for such scammers, but they were too busy thinking back upon the fish sandwiches and (chewy!) ice cream they had eaten to consider such things. Thus, Igor was made to pay for following the old man around the mosque as the he recited facts that could be found on nearby informational signs. Igor was in the works to make a movie based on his experience of getting swindled by a tour guide, but alas, apparently it has already been done and can be seen in Slumdog Millionaire.

Igor was very upset to find that his plans for his major motion picture were thwarted, so he went back with minions 1 and 3 to the Tulip Guesthouse for some stuffed vine leaves, bread, and tea before heading back to the Four Seasons to rest up.

And thus marked the end of Igor's tour of Istanbul. It was a relaxing, memorable trip, and Igor very much approves of the Turks. He is sure they would make an excellent addition to his posse, and, for those of you in the know, that is among the highest of compliments Igor can make.

Hello, minions. Igor is sure all you peons have missed his petite (yet commanding) presence, and the exclusive view into the life of a turtle like himself. Some of you have expressed curiosity as to why Igor hasn't posted in quite some time and, to be painfully frank, it is because he has simply been too important to update this blog, although Igor is sure you all understand.

The life of a jetsetting, world-renowned turtle such as Igor is not an easy one, nor one with much free time, and that is not even factoring in the time Igor must put into directing his minions (after all, they obviously can't be trusted to do anything themselves, a fact Igor has been witness to a number of times).

So what, exactly, has Igor been busy doing? Well, not that Igor must respond to impertinent questions, but, since he is in a charitable mood, he shall condescend to respond. As of late, Igor has been much like George Clooney in Up in the Air, only much better looking, of course. Igor, having grown weary of London's gray drabness, has been seeking greener -- and thus, much better, of course -- pastures. Igor has been on tour, in response to a number of requests from his international fans and the desire to see the sun. The cities Igor visited include:

• Amsterdam,

where Igor walked the canals,

saw the red light district, and encountered Dutch apple pie, or baked apple, with some incidental chunks of pie in between.

Igor also found his next home, which was formerly called the Van Loon mansion (now a museum), but will henceforth be known as Igor's Second Esate.

• Paris,

where Igor came the closest he's ever come to finding a city worthy of his love.

• and Cardiff,

which was good, but not great, and could probably be summed up by the fouling picture. I mean following picture.

although these pictures could be said to describe Cardiff, too.

And currently, Igor is in Seoul, a place he thought he was forever rid of, but alas, it seems to call for him again and again. And strangely, despite the ten-hour flight (that was only nominally improved by the free-flowing offerings of libations), Igor may or may not be somewhat, a tiny bit glad to be back among what may be his most ardent admirers (although it's hard to know for sure as Igor is so very, very popular).

In any case, Igor will soon be up in the air once again, to touch down briefly in London before heading off to what better be sunny Istanbul.

After all, when a turtle works as hard as Igor and is as important as Igor, he deserves a break.

Igor has been very busy because he had to pop over to Vancouver for the Olympics (the mayor of Vancouver rang last week and said something about how Igor's presence was of the utmost importance and desperately needed to boost morale at the Games, &tc., &tc. -- oh, the things Igor does for the good of the public), but he's returned to London, although he's been busy doing some traveling here, as well.

First, Igor went to Great Missenden, a little village (population: 10...000) some 30 km outside of London. Normally, such a place is below Igor's notice, but he was rather willing to get away from the hustle and bustle of London after having to sit through so much busyness in Vancouver (meeting with Olympians all day is far more tiring than one would suspect).

Anyway, Great Missenden (which is so small, and yet, still larger than nearby Little Missenden, population: 6,500) was quite quaint and Igor has determined that he shall annex it shortly.

In Great Missenden, Igor made a "friend." Please note how much more attractive Igor is than his "friend."

In the past, the late Roald Dahl lived in Great Missenden. Now, he's buried by the parish church, with the BFG's foot prints leading the way.

The BFG is so very large; Igor is not sure how he feels about that.

Aside from Igor's discomfort (note: Igor is not actually afraid of the BFG; he just believes such enormous height is unnatural and unnecessary), Igor enjoyed the weather greatly. In all, the trip to Great Missenden was a success.

Back in London, Igor went to the Imperial War Museum.

And then wandered around nighttime London as he got lost and tried to find his way back to the flat to soak in the local sights. It was perhaps a bit plebian of him, but one must blend with the locals from time to time to keep them satisfied.

Next, Igor went to Stongehenge, Stourhead Gardens, and Salisbury Cathedral so that he may pick up his next piece of real estate. The choice was easy.

Stonehenge was simply not large enough for Igor (and all his posse).

And there were sheep. And we all know how Igor feels about sheep.

Salisbury was too drafty and dim.

And Stourhead was just right.

Located in Wiltshire, it's a bit out of the way, but the manmade, well-manicured grounds are quite nice to look at, and the story of the gardens, which represent both a tamed Christian world and a more exotic pagan world, appeals to Igor.

Stourhead did have some ducks, but Igor finds that forgivable. In any case, he'll permit 24 hours for the ducks to evacuate elsewhere before he moves into Stourhead (as a summer home only, of course).

Plus, there are interesting temples and mysterious grottos and some rather appealing statues. In short, perfect for a turtle of such perfect taste as Igor.

Last weekend, Igor decided to go to the part of the world where his kind (of which there are so few of his caliber) is perhaps most celebrated: Dublin. After all, they love petite green creatures. Igor was confident that he would fit in (and then act as their leader from that day henceforth).

However, when Igor got there, he realized he had his work cut out for him. First of all, Igor was alarmed to see a number of signs written in other languages. Unacceptable! After last summer, Igor had resoundingly put his (perfectly manicured) foot down and decreed: No languages other than English (the language of Igor, of course) are to exist. Ever. However, once the locals began talking to Igor (of course they approached him, and not the other way around), Igor was relieved to find that the Irish do, indeed, know English. Sort of. In any case, Igor regained confidence: after all, he could work with a foundation (he had with Heeseung, hadn’t he?).

But then Igor encountered the second problem: it was cold. Not just cold, but dastardly cold. Unbearably cold. Utterly, wretchedly cold. Igor was not meant to exist in such wretched conditions, and thus promptly fell into a deep, shock-induced sleep perhaps dozed off for a few moments. And even if Igor had fallen prey to such mortal conditions, it was all Dublin’s fault, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t they thought to insulate the city before his arrival? Later, perched in the deepest, warmest depths of Heeseung’s pocket (still perfectly dignified, Igor assures you) and wrapped in six layers of cashmere blankets, Igor was willing to overlook perhaps a portion of Dublin’s gross error, although even one week later, Igor is finding it difficult to fully forgive.

Igor spent the rest of the trip in relative peace, visiting:

castles,

cathedrals,

museums, and even the library, but then, the third problem presented itself with its large, ugly, all-too fluffy head.

It was the sheep.

There were sheep everywhere, prancing around, chewing away at the grass, dotting the green fields like little clouds. In other words, useless. Now goats, Igor can understand. Goats provide cashmere. But sheep? They just want to be goats, but puffier and fluffier. They think they’re cute, bleating away from their coat of white fuzz. But Igor knows better. Unfortunately, there was nothing Igor could do about the sheep until he actually took over the country, so Igor spared them another day (for now)…

But Igor will (grudgingly) admit that, aside from the sheep, the Irish countryside was quite pleasing to look at, and has already acquired an estate there, although he can’t imagine he would spend more than a night there at a time.

In all, the whole of the Dublin trip was some degree of pleasant, Igor supposes, although his opinion may have been tempered by some quantities of alcohol. Igor would explain that this is because, when in Ireland, do as the Irish do, but Igor is a trendsetter, not a follower (nor a sheep).

And now, Igor is back in London, home sweet home. He saw an updated version of Moliere's "Le Misanthrope" at the Comedy Theatre this past Wednesday, which had gotten a lot of press because it featured a Miss Keira Knightley. Igor enjoyed the production thoroughly, although he was disappointed with the plot and the lack of balance in the cast. But it was as Igor suspected; he must do everything himself if he wants to truly be satisfied.

And currently, Igor is highly dissatisfied. He’s sitting in a small establishment, a hole in the wall (or more of a crack), eating Korean food with the dulcet robotic tones of Big Bang washing over him. The menus are handwritten and photocopied. The walls have disturbingly cutesy notes scribbled on them. The waitstaff speak only Korean. Someone’s mobile just went off and it was a tinny midi of a popular classical piece. And now Super Junior is playing. If he had wanted this, he would have stayed in Korea. Oy.