Turkish Delight

So I was going to kick this off by saying that Turkey is totally shit and overrated – really dry, and completely ruins Christmas unless you drown it in cranberry sauce to combat the desert-vibes going on in your mouth. But that’s a pretty crappy joke so I've decided not to open with it.

I only had one requirement of this Turkish vaykay and that was to get a tan. I know what kind of person that makes me sound like, but this winter has been long and I like having that tan line across the top of my arse and who the fuck are you to judge me? Anyway, moving swiftly forward, I can safely say that Turkey delivered on the tan front and then some.

Attractive boat scene.

So let’s get down to brass tacks. We flew to Istanbul on Etihad via Abu Dhabi and other than the fact that they ran out of the chicken and I had to eat the cold veggie option, it was pretty chill. Watched some shit, tried to sleep – you know your standard long-haul flight scenario. Then because we were still feeling flush we caught a domestic flight to Fethiye, where we would start our boating adventure. Spent the first night at V-GO hostel, but to be honest the 24hrs of travelling put us in bed very early. The next day we lounged at the pool, worked on the tans (this is important because the masses of Aussies you will meet are almost all the colour of molten gold - I seriously didn't realise Caucasians could go that colour) and waited for Norms to join us so we could board the boat.

This little sailing adventure was to celebrate Norms’ upcoming 30^th birthday and we had booked it through Busabout at the beginning of the year, to cash in on the early-bird special. (On the subject of specials, though, I feel there is an early-bird special, a last minute special and not really sure if anyone ever actually pays the full cost at any point during the year special.) There are plenty of tour companies you can book this sort of thing with so go with whoever you like the look of; they all offer the same thing, really. This type of holiday tends to be pretty cheap. Just watch your bar tab – we thought we’d been sensible, the number of beers and the amount of Lira said otherwise…

Just some swimming.

Now it’s probably been mentioned before that I am partial to a jolly good boat ride. Yachty things in Croatia, ferries on Kariba, or even the row boats at Zoo Lake make me a very happy lady person. So seven days sailing along the Mediterranean coast line had my knickers damp with excitement even before we saw our gorgeous Gulet (traditional Turkish sail boat), met the awesome crew who waited on us like we were a bunch of spoilt cunts, and had taken our first dip in the picture postcard turquoise sea.

This is a Gulet - a pretty rad boat.

Each day rolled out like the one before it, except for the one sea-sicky day when stomachs heaved each time the boat did and you clung to the deck hoping you or the waves would just stop existing. But back to our daily schedule:

·         Wake up to breakfast

·         Swim

·         1^st nap

·         Swim

·         Lunch

·         Swim

·         2^nd nap

·         Swim/perhaps explore port town

·         Afternoon tea

·         3^rd nap

·         Beer o’clock

·         Pre-dinner snacks

·         More beer

·         Dinner

·         Even more beer

Hard at work - sometime between the third swim and second nap.

We also ate at least three ice-creams a day. That’s a lifestyle I could get used to – after seven days of this we were obviously relaxed as fuck. Until we had to pay our bar tabs, of course, but sunsets must be enjoyed with an Efes or three. Such is the life of an adventurer.

The ice-cream  man. Boat to boat delivery.

This lady made pancake things. They were delicious.

Our sudden pennilessness meant only one thing: The night bus to Istanbul… Now this is not the romantic paperback novel where attractive travellers find love en route to exotic cities, but rather 13 hours of full-bladdered hell and enemies at every corner. The welcome biscuit instilled a false sense of calm, before the rude awakening of discovering the bus had no toilet. Well it did, but not for our usage. The little she-devils behind us complained about our reclined seats and the bus steward (my arch-nemesis) forced us to sleep upright. Under the cloak of darkness we went full recline, once again, and I awoke at some point in the night to find one she-devil hovering over me with a menacing glint in her eye – what-the-actual-fuck?

Actually the night bus to Istanbul is misleading. It should be called, Night bus to industrial area nearish Istanbul and then find your own goddamn way into the city. Luckily a kindly mini-bus driver took pity on two tired, useless and slightly grumpy bints and we eventually sorted our shit out. (Travel tip: Before embarking on a 13-hour, toilet-free bus journey it is not advisable to drink two and a half pints of beer. That is all.)

The two cunts were now ready to smash Istanbul – sight-seeing style. It was also around this point that we got a touch tired of being poor and took to the credit cards like that stupid book about that bitch who shops too much. Confessions of a Major Arsehole or something like that.  We saw the sights – beautiful but pretty crowded, shopped in the Grand Bazaar – even more crowded, and ate about a kilogramme of Turkish Delight – holy shit that stuff is delicious.

The Blue Mosque, hidden behind all the tourists

And then it was time to go home and Lynner had to eat the veggie option when they ran out of chicken on the aeroplane. She says it wasn’t cold, though.