Travelling solo

I do flatter myself that I am a well-seasoned traveller - be it using leaning back comfortably in the complimentary airport lounge lounges or squatting on the floor in some remote excuse of an airport waiting for the (of course) severely delayed Ryanair flight in the small hours; be it being chauffeur driven past of the realities of real life in India or self driving around NZ; be lazing on the beach on an all inclusive or roughing it on a trekking holiday in Nepal; be it conversing fluently in the Galeries La Fayette or trying to barter in sign language with a market seller in Kathmandu - I can honestly say, that I've been around the block a few times. So when the question arouse of whether to travel to Istanbul solo or not at all, the decision was an easy one to make - GO of course.
During the day, one gets lost in the hustle and bustle of the city. In fact, it's quite nice being able to stop when YOU want to stop and see what YOU want to see without having to negotiate or compromise. The the tricky bit is eating. I don't mean of course the activity of chewing but the "sitting somewhere on your own bit" without feeling self conscious or worry about the (granted) perceived pity of fellow restaurant goers.
When travelling on business, this isn't so problematic - you're either traveling with colleagues and every meal becomes an extension of the business meeting you have just come out of or are about to begin or you end up working so late anyway, that having all your meals brought to your hotel room makes perfect sense. (a friend of mine recently made the frightening discovery that at a hotel she frequently stays on her business trips, the staff not only know her by name but also know what she has for breakfast and the three options for dinner she orders. I'm sure that her local convenience store probably don't know her remotely as well.
So back to this eating out business. There is of course the option of staying in a backpackers or youth hostel and make your own meals. You get to eat your own food and will in all likelihood find someone to chat with (at least, if you're not too shy which I'm not). But let's face it, backpackers and youth hostels somewhat lack attraction when you on a short city break. You want to sink back into a decent bed and not have to share room and shower with the great unwashed.
So you can chicken out and order room service - not only is it expensive, food normally lukewarm, choice minimal (well, there is always a Club sandwich and spagetti bolognese on the menu....) and overpriced but you end up feeling rather sorry for yourself as you zap through the gazillion of TV channels in the local language because BBC world and Eurosport are even less appealing. Or you pop into the next McD or Burger King - at least you know what you're getting ....(rubbish that is)
Or, you can, as I proudly did today for the first time ever, grit your teeth and make it to a local restaurant. Boy am I proud of myself for having done it and it wasn't even that hard. To quote Emma "you build something up in your mind to mythical proportions" and the reality turns out to be nothing like it. As recommended I took a book (so not to look to stupid) and went to the restaurant around the corner. Luckily here you don't have to wait to be seated - uttering the words "table for one please" does not do much for the confidence in this instance - so you choose your perfect table, in my case on a lovely terrace overlooking the rooftops of old Istanbul. The waiter (waitress in my case) then quickly spots that you're dining alone and gets quite chatty and attentive. Brilliant. So not only did I have a lovely meal, I also enjoyed the atmosphere, indulged in some unashamed people watching and did not feel sorry for myself or embarrassed for one second.
Whyever did I wait this long to try it out??