Midnight Express - Adana, Turkey I am not writing this from a Turkish prison (Turkish prisons are apparently now high tech and afford inmates generous library time), but just barely. A day trip to Tarsus, Turkey with three of the squeakiest clean World Airways flight attendants: Sarah Gorman, Per Clausen and Kelly Lavik (well, two of the squeakiest) turned creepy, ugly, and almost cinematic when the polis boarded our homeward bus at a roadblock. The cigarette-smoking, leather-acket clad vigilante hauled us off the bus for failing to carry passports. We were asked: “Passa Portas?” The incoherent Turkish question I assume was “Let me see your passports.” And even, “Weir ah yor pah-puz (circa Berlin, 1938)? Our bus, our last Hiltonward bus of the night, pulled off, propelling dust up btheind it. A hubbub of activity
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