Topkapi palace in the rain isn't so much of a must-visit.
We spent more time shivering than seeing, and the enormous
crowd in the treasury was actually more welcome for its
generated heat than annoying for its jostling, shoving
jam-packedness. Some neat stuff here, gifts and tributes
to the sultans from rulers from Queen Victoria to the
various shahs of Iran, and millions' worth of other shiny
things. Okay, it was well more than neat if you're into
shiny things, as the rest of the hundreds of people in
each room jostling for position or just a glimpse of the
shinier treasures must have been. And, oh, there was the
giant diamond about which they apparently had made a movie
some decades back.

After a bit of thought we gave the harem a miss (as it
were); others and their writings indicate that we made the
right choice.

the Sultanahmet Suites, tried (somewhat vainly) to dry off,
and then walked around that conservative old neighborhood,
trying to find a place that sold beer. There was a little
store a couple blocks up the way, where the guy sort of
scowled at us alcohol-swilling infidels, but a big smile and
a heartfelt tesikkurler got us a bit of a nod in return. It
was Marmara beer, and I thought, aha, the guide who told us
that it was all Efes was wrong. Turns out this stuff is made
by Efes, though I found it a tad maltier perhaps. We returned
to one of the places that hadn't sold alcohol, got some
potato chips and nuts and deemed that a sufficient meal.

We had use of the building's computer for our e-mail and
FT and such, and while I was tapping away, I was approached
by the guy who had checked us in, who informed me that
because of a miscalculation of the exchange rates, he had
undercharged me. How much, I asked. US$10, he replied, I
didn't fuss that it had been his mistake or accuse him of
shaking me down. He had indeed given me a good rate before,
and with the correction it was still quite fair. So I paid.