Saturday, 20 May 2017

The Magic of the Island

No need of a book - Happy to stare at the view in
Marina Taverna in Vlychos, Hydra. 

After a week spent in England socialising with family and friends, my liver is enjoying a much needed rest in Hydra.  I've swapped my usual glass of red wine for a pot of tea and dinner is a simple Greek salad. If I can keep this up for 10 days I might fit into my summer clothes. 

The ferries and hydrofoils have been hit by a 4 day strike so the island has been particularly quiet; not good for the tourism trade, but great for those of us who arrived on the Monday and don't have any urgency to get off the island.

I usually take a book with me when I eat out but Greek menus make good reading. I've never encountered a quote from an ancient historian in a Turkish or British restaurant, and my tea tastes much better knowing that any attempt at world conquest will have a cool yet sunny touch.

I'm not just sitting around in tavernas; getting to them involves the up and down of 200 to 300 steps. Despite my many visits, I still miss-judge where I am and yesterday found myself on a steep staircase where every narrow polished stone step sloped at 45 degrees.  Edmund Hillary would have been proud of me.

Tuesday, 16 May 2017

Lost and found

This is a photograph of Bodrum taken in 1974.  In March of that year, a group of school girls from Rugby High School got their first taste of Turkish Delight and weren't very impressed. We had already had our bottoms pinched in Italy and were getting used to the amount of attention a gaggle of 15 year old girls attracted in the Eastern Mediterranean, but we were unprepared for the Bodrum men and boys who took every opportunity to put their hands up our skirts. So time-consuming was the effort needed to avoid this that I can't remember where we went or what we saw in Bodrum. Our PE teacher, Miss Munden, a wonderful woman whose ample derriere, in my memory, is always encased in a grey tracksuit, was driven almost to distraction by this unwelcome intrusion and spent a lot of time shepherding the more delicate souls (me included), trying to keep our honour unsullied. I vowed never to set foot in Bodrum again - so much for that resolution.  
I have only one other memory and it has stuck with me for 45 years. As we were about to leave, Miss Munden realised that someone was missing and I can still see her dashing around Rasit's cafe shouting, "Pauline Garratt,  Where's Pauline Garratt?"  until the eponymous young lady turned up, as cool as a cucumber,  on the back of a scooter.  I was so impressed. How I wanted to be Pauline Garratt that day.  She'd been off to see the Mausoleum. 
I lost touch with Pauline 40 years ago, but her name comes to mind every time I walk through the square by the castle, so it was fantastic to find her again last Saturday, and she still the sort of person who would be up for any petty rule breaking. 

So glad to have found Pauline Garratt. 

She is sure there were a few of them that nipped off to the Mausoleum, but I only recall her name  echoing around Bodrum.  She does remember coming back on the moped though, which is reassuring as I had begun to wonder if I'd made the whole thing up. 

Forty years on, the RHS class of 1977 is still looking good and one afternoon wasn't enough time for all the stories we have to tell.  We must do it again soon.

* It may have been 1973, long enough ago to be forgiven for not being sure.

Friday, 12 May 2017

Out with the sour

Spring is a time of indrawn breath and pursed lips as the uninitiated take a bite of these green shiny fruit and wince at their sourness, or wonder what to do with the furry almond they have politely popped into their mouths to please a neighbour.  It takes a while, but once you have lived here for a while, salty sourness is a welcome taste as the rest of the year is going to be sweet, sweet, sweet.  If there are any left on the trees, the green plums (erik) will be turning pink and the almonds (çağla) will  be developing their shells.  Strawberries are already spilling over the market stalls and the first cherries will soon be affordable (it is never worth paying the arm and a leg for the first fruits). Before long we will be overwhelmed with the sugar rush that a ripe yellow melon or squidgy peach provides and will look back and yearn for the sharp clean taste of a Spring.

Saturday, 6 May 2017


"There is only so much fake dancing you can do"  

Joyce, Alex, Jane, Chrissie and Tracey (Peter and Andre made a very quick exit)

I'm happy to do almost anything to get a good blog post but this was very much out of character. I'm probably the last person to get up on the dance floor so dancing to order, to no music, on a balcony in a night club in the middle of the afternoon was way beyond the call of duty.  There have been many calls on Facebook for extras to take part in 'Holiday,' a Danish-Dutch produced film being made in Bodrum.  I approached the film's fixer to arrange an interview with the director but despite a couple of emails, this didn't come off.  My friend Jane Ecer had already taken part in an airport scene and I persuaded her to come back to Bodrum to join in with another scene. We were originally scheduled to be at a hotel in Gumbet so I had envisioned sitting beside a pool sipping a cold beer.  On the evening before the shoot, an email arrived asking us to wear sparkly clothes, high heels and carry small bags and to meet at the Bianca Marina Club in Bodrum.  I searched through my wardrobe wondering if some remnant of my 1980's disco days lurked in a dark corner. If I had found one, the extra 14 pounds  I now carry around would have made trying it on too dispiriting for words.  I did find some heals, and I still have the plasters on my toes to prove that I wore them for a couple of hours.  

The film team were new in town, so they had no idea that the club had only just changed its name to 'Bianca' so finding the place was the first hurdle for some.  Luckily my constant dog walking had taken me past the place and I'd noted the new sign being put up outside. It is a venue that changes owners and identity so frequently, very few locals would be able to tell you its current name.  It's now looking very good so I hope 'Bianca' is around for longer.
Our call came after an hour waiting outside in the sun, so we were happy to slip into the blacked out club and practice our moves on the balcony.
The quote above comes from Alex. Ever cheerful, even he, after 10 takes and a round of cocktails that were just coloured water, was losing his joie de vivre.

Friday, 5 May 2017

Off duty

Oh the relief.  The boss is away and I can kick back at my two-legged sister's house..
She doesn't make me write a blog post twice a week. 
I can lay around doing nothing all day. 

Saturday, 29 April 2017

Reasons to be Cheerful

Bodrum is a great place to live. Who can fail to be cheerful when living in a town that boasts this wonderful view.  The strains of "We are the Champions" are just fading as I write - Bodrumspor have played their last match of the season and will be going up into the 2nd division. For a town with a shade of blue named after it, Bodrum is very green today - flags and t-shirts sporting Bodrumspor's green and white logo are everywhere. The celebrations will carry on this evening with a free concert in the town centre.  Tomorrow morning, the main streets will be closed for the 15km Global Run and in Çamarası near Mumcular,  Enduro motorbikes will race at the brand new cross country track. Adding to the positive vibes  today was the feeling that Bodrum is still on the main site-seeing and travel route.  Over a thousand European visitors were wandering the streets,  having docked at the liner port. Don't believe what you read in the papers - people are still visiting and enjoying the Turkish Aegean Coast and it is still one of the best places to be.

Bodrum Global Run

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Happiness = a tennis racquet and three tennis balls.

My master was an ardent atheist, if he had died in England he would have been laid to rest in a woodland burial site.  This wasn't an option in Bodrum so the graveyard nearest to our village house was his chosen spot. A shady corner plot under a pine tree.  When it came to choosing the gravestone, my companion remembered that he used to say he would always be content if he had a tennis racquet and three balls.  He had no expectation of an afterlife, but if he could see his gravestone, I think he would have approved.

Saturday, 22 April 2017

The Dog's Dinner

Hüseyin Karasu and me, outside Mozaik Bahçe

A misleading title; it was lunch and I didn't get any. 

Last week my permanent house guest and walker was invited to lunch. Usually in these circumstances, she takes me for a long walk from 11 to 12 and then leaves me with some tasteful music, a full water bowl, a few bone-shaped meat-flavoured treats, full access to the sofa and then she heads off for a couple of hours. I don't mind being on my own, it gives me time to think about my writing commitments.  This lunch date was different. It was in Fethiye. Three hours drive away and obviously 3 hours back.  Add the 3 hours or so she would spend gossiping and eating, there was no way I could be left at home for 9 hours.  So the lunch acceptance email was phrased thus: "I can come but lunch has to be at a dog friendly restaurant." Trip advisor was consulted, the top 10 restaurants in Fethiye chosen and emails sent asking if cute pooches were acceptable dining companions.  Only one restaurant replied. Stand up and take a bow MOZAİK BAHÇE.  I hear the food was great, the prices very reasonable, the staff friendly and for lone diners with canines, there is someone who will hold your four legged friend while you go to the loo. (An unimagined problem for couples with dogs).  My mistress wants you to know that if she had been researching places to eat, she would have forsworn Trip Adviser and only been advised by Turkey's for Life  because Julia and Barry really know where to eat and drink in Fethiye. 
Did I like Fethiye?  Yes until 4pm, when a brown labrador in the marina made some very rude comments as I passed and then took a chunk out of my thigh. He mostly ended up with a mouthful of white fur but my rear end and dignity is still stinging. 

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

As you were...

As you may have noticed, when times are troubled, my two legged companion struggles to find a suitable subject for her blog; not wanting to get immersed in politics, but feeling that a frivolous topic would appear crass. So she has again handed the pink pencil over to me. Since the last time I was in charge, viewing figures have dropped by 20% so I'm hoping my loyal canine literary followers will get back on board to woof up the numbers. 
We set off for our walk at about 9 am yesterday morning. Clouds hung heavy over Bodrum castle and the streets were empty. Hardly a car passed and we met no one along the way. It seemed that the 79% of Bodrum voters who didn't get the result they wished for had decided to stay in bed - who could blame them.  We had a solitary ramble and went home to pore over the news reports.  By three o'clock I was ready for another amble. Out we trotted into bright sunshine and busy streets. The seafront was full of families, (I assume the schools were closed for the day to make up for them doubling as polling stations the day before), strolling couples and fellow dogs and their walkers and there was a general holiday feeling in the air.  And that just about sums up this country.  Whatever you throw at us, those of us still at liberty will take it and carry on.

(ps I hope you notice my use of pathetic fallacy - this dog is on a mission to make BacktoBodrum more erudite - I'm busy chewing my way through a Thesaurus)

Thursday, 13 April 2017

Eat up your greens

Did you mother tell you to do this, mine certainly did and I wasn't too keen on them. These days nobody has to tell me to eat up my greens, especially at this time of year. The markets are bursting with greenery in all different forms. And you don't have to buy them.  On any drive into the countryside you will see families field-walking, heads down - a bunch of leaves in one hand, the other poised to grasp a mallow leaf, wild asparagus shoots,  green fennel fronds or even uproot a thistle.  These plants have lovely names that don't exactly roll off the tongue but sound great when you've mastered the pronunciation ebegümeci,  tilkişen, arapsacı and şevket-i-bostan.  Just roll those words around your mouth,  they feel almost as good as they taste.

On Sunday,  Bodrum's H3A organised a herb festival at their Gürece headquarters,  with three types of mixed greens dishes and a herby börek on offer, all made by the local village ladies. Business was brisk and diners spilled out into the garden to eat their greens on the grass.  (In Turkish that could also be eating your grass on the green). In total 86 paying visitors turned up before the food ran out and 50 latecomers were disappointed and had to get their 5-a-day somewhere else.  They also missed the scones, cream and jam made by Camille as a UK contribution to a typical Bodrum lunch.

If you want to try your hand at Bodrum greens, have a look some of these past blog posts on herbivorous themes.

A passion for Prickles
A Prickly Eat
Wild Asparagus
Eggs in Samphire Nests