Winter in our part of Turkey was once fun because of the bar of the Triton Hotel. We knew we could find friends and life any evening where now there often seems to be none.
Our mobile devices took on added importance yesterday when someone asked out of the blue if we wanted to sell our home in Turkey. We have been thinking of moving on - though not for a year or two yet - and the question got me thinking more seriously about what we would do with our possessions and how much could be left behind in favour of digital alternatives.
We don’t usually post on a Saturday but because we’re suckers for names and products that translate into silliness in English we couldn’t resist this.
This parasol has been sat in the middle of our road for the past few weeks. A big summer umbrella wouldn’t last three hours, let alone three weeks, in the same position in the UK before some form of officialdom took an interest.
Within minutes of arriving at Didim’s inaugural camel wrestling festival the fists started flying. Anyone familiar with wrestling will know that a wrestler may not hit their opponent with a closed fist and camels don’t have fists anyway.
It rained last night. A big rolling storm buffeted the house, soaked the streets and blew our mosquito net down. If you are reading this in, say, Manchester or Belfast I am sure your reaction is big freaking whoop. It rained here last night too and I’m not writing a bloody post about it.
Our home town in Turkey is very much a package tourism destination. Young families and the retired from the UK come to lie on the beach in the mornings and afternoons and drink in the bars and clubs in the evening.