Trading Insults

I love the Turks.  They are so funny. They are not like the Greeks, who I also love.  The Greeks are laid back, easy going and friendly.  The Turks are all potential Alan Sugars.  They want your money and they will say anything to get it.  They remember your name, they tell you you are beautiful or whatever they think will part you from your cash. 

When you have been married for a long time there is nothing better than someone else insulting your other half.  These insults could be unintentional, where they have picked up a phrase from a twinkly-eyed tourist, hoping to have a bit of fun or they may just have the best sense of humour.  

The signs in the shops and bars say it all.  They shout; Chip Shop, Cheap as Chips, Everything Free.  There is a sign in a bar which says, "All Drinks Free Tomorrow!"  I don't expect they have to abide by the laws of a trade descriptions act.  

The Long Suffing Husband particularly enjoyed the shop we went in, where the man said, "You're wife is beautiful."  When the LSH looked confused, he looked at my face and said, "Yes, that's a face you want to slap!"  Oh, how we laughed.  My favourite moment was when we were walking past a bar and a man said to the LSH, "You have a big belly, you need beer!"

Rebel Without A Vest

It's 41 degrees, sweat is pouring off me and I'm sitting around in my underwear (bikini), only moving to dunk myself in the pool or the sea, turn a page of my book or take a swig of my drink.  This hotel, however, is filled with men (who surprisingly don't smell terrible) who are fully clothed, running around, filling glasses, sweeping up rubbish, taking towels to the laundry, cleaning tables, picking rubbish off the beach, standing in the full blaze of the sun to keep the riff-raff out.  They all have their own uniforms.  The towel men wear green and purple.  The security guards wear black trousers and white shirts with epaulets, making them look like policemen and really should be given an umbrella to stand under.  The men who pick the litter off the beach have T-shirts, emblazoned with 'Beach Boy' on the back.  I keep waiting for the Beach Boys to burst into the chorus of Good Vibrations, but they never do.  The staff in the restaurants all wear white and it is here that I first notice they all wear vests and now I can't stop looking and they are all wearing vests.  How do they do that?

Then I spot him, the cheeky chappie with the enormous grin.  The one rebel without a vest.

Don't Bother Turning Left

We booked our holiday on the recommendation of a friend who went to the same hotel last year. It was a good recommendation but I'm not sure about her, "Don't bother turning left,"  advice.

This evening we turned left and had the most fantastic walk. Even the travel agent rep advised against walking into Marmaris. It took us 1/2 hour to Bar Street another 10 minutes to the statue of Attaturk (cool man - I like him and will probably blog more later) and it was great.

A colleague had been to Marmaris and said to my friends, "I've been to Marmaris.  What's wrong with it?"  My friends looked at her, looked at me and said, "You're young.  I can't imagine it has anything to offer Julia." Now, I'm not just saying this to pretend to be cool and trendy and much younger than I am but I loved it.  There is nothing like a lively, buzzing town, full of real people.  As you walk along the beach, locals try to get you to come into their shops and bars, they are full of banter they want to shake your hand and are not affraid to admit that they want your money.  Old men and women shuffle along the promenade for their evening walk but more often than not the old men are sitting on corners, fingering their prayer beads, drinking strong Turkish coffee or tea and putting the world to rights while the women are running (yes literally - and in that heat) between the greengrocer, bread shop and laundarettte to get back before their husbands have finished their important discussions. The children are learning early to be entrepreneurs; a ten year old girl sits on the promenade with her guitar, absorbed in her singing, hoping that people will put some coins in her case, while 8 year old boys have taken the scales from the bathroom and offer to weigh tourists (who have gorged on the all-inclusive all-day food) for a small fee.

I would definitely recommend the walk, even if you aren't young and trendy but if walking isn't for you there are always the little blue buses (called Dolman, meaning stuffed - although we always got a seat) for just 2 Turkish Lire.  

Missing

It's inevitable that you will compare your current holiday to those you have had in the past. And so, in true 'Grumpy Old Woman on Holiday' style I will list all the things that this holiday is missing, compared to those we've had in the past.

1. The bins - I don't know what has happened. We always order a view of the bins. Someone has made a huge mistake.

2. The 20 minute walk in the sweltering heat to carry back bottles of water. Bottles of water appear in our room. 

3. Arguing about where to eat. This is our fault - we did book all inclusive.

4. Hey He-ay Baby Oh Ah. Listening to Mozart Clarinet Concerto through dinner can't be right. Haven't they read the handbook about what British Tourists like?

5. Chips. This isn't strictly true. We can have chips if we want them but we don't have to have them with every meal.

6. The rain. Shhh. Keep quiet but it looks like the forecast is 40• all week with no rain.

7. The long walk to the beach laden down with towels, lilos, books and I-pods.

8. Hearing the call, "Darren get me anovver effin beer" or "Sharon watch Princess will yer.". However there are quite a few bored. Spoilt rich teenagers saying things like, "Mother! There are plenty of tables over there. I'm sitting with Portia"

9. Dirty Pool Toilets. Again, they seem not to have got the memo but in the words of my son, "Those toilets are swanky"

10. Our daughter. Although I didn't miss having my knee gripped  in a Vulcan death grip during a rather bumpy flight and holding the sick bag it really isn't the same without her.