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Published: September 5th 2013
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And so we sit and wait, our container is still at the docks and having sent a variety of documents and paperwork off……
Woolly says – What Jo means is that having sent the documents and paperwork to the wrong address customs are now trying to find the missing envelope – she is such a silly. Our week has passed with dips in the pool and sea and an occasional cup of coffee or ice cream on the harbour watching the huge rigged party ships weaving back into port with their green hewed tourists on board. Throughout the day and night we hear the calls to prayer, it’s a soothing sound, and as first one Imam then another and another joins in the call the sound streams across the buildings and flows down the streets. Mosques are everywhere, some big and elegantly decorated while others are tiny looking like small houses except for the minaret perched on top. I was also delighted that Ian has had the time to set up my own Woolly Mammoth Facebook page so that all my fans can contact me, it’s so hard being famous!
We wondered on Friday why
Turkish flags were appearing on balconies and buildings, friends told us that is was Victory Day (Zafer Bayrami). A national holiday to commemorate the victory in the Battle of Dumlupinar, the final battle in the Turkish War of Independence in 1922. Unlike the British Bank Holidays which are all on Mondays, here they celebrate on the actual day for each festival in their calendar. For us though Friday bought an assignation.
Woolly says – We received a text message
“Meet at Gold City at 7”,
ohhh I thought this was strange. We primed Ollie and set off as the sun was starting to set behind the mountain. Speeding along the coast road I contemplated what might be in store for us, should I have brought my golf clubs for protection? Would there be a secret code? Would I get back alive? Another text arrived
“Meet at the shell station in five minutes”
We drove further on and pulled up, I sat watching the mirrors, ever alert to cars pulling in, then I saw it, a black vehicle pulled up alongside us
“Follow me”
I started to shake, as we followed the
car, where were we going? We turned a corner and the black car stopped and the driver jumped out
“Wait”
The man disappeared inside the building and I held my breath, was this the end? Would more men be joining us? WHAT was happening? I so wished I had gone to the judo lessons! The man ran out of the shop clutching a package and beckoned to us as he climbed back into his vehicle. Where we to be used as smugglers? Was I being Mammoth knapped? Why were Ian and Jo so calm? We followed, up through the dusty roads we raced, past banana plantations, turning onto smaller roads we went further and further into the mountains. Would my body be found? Should I text my bestest friend Sion to tell him I needed a rescue party? Turning sharply we pulled onto the side of the mountain in front of a large villa, was this where I was to meet my fate? It was pitch black with only a single candle to guide us as we walked through the wrought iron gates, up the stairs we went, I trembled in anticipation as we come to the top
of the steps and turned to view……a swimming pool and BBQ!
With Woolly immersed in his world of espionage we settled down for a wonderful night of food, wine and swimming with our friends Bulent, Annelise and her Mom Gamila (hope we have spelt this correctly). The food of chicken and meatballs, rice and green beans and a salad of tomatoes, onions and chillies (yes I would like the recipe please Bulent) was a feast fit for a king, it was delicious. Swimming at midnight under the stars, telling the stories of our travels and listening to the tales of life in Sweden and Turkey was everything we could have wanted, it was the most enjoyable of nights – our immense thanks to our wonderful hosts.
Woolly says – it was wonderful and as I feel asleep (or unconscious) I could only look forward to when we can extend our hands in hospitality to these wonderful people. Sunday provided a new treat for me, having moaned long and hard Jo and Ian finally came round to my way of thinking and we walked over to the sea front for a game of golf.
To be fair to Woolly we had promised him a game in every country we have visited so far but like so many things when you look for it, it never seems to be there. Woolly humped his golf back behind him as we set up for the first shots, hole one to Jo.
Woolly says – Hole one was definitely mine as was holes two, three, four, and all the rest, I was on fire. As my ball flew round corners, over water, I navigated the tricky angles as hole after hole unfolded, there was no stopping me!
Except for the cactus that Woolly incorporated into the field of play, we quite enjoyed watching him climb gingerly through the spikes to retrieve it! Having checked the scorecard which Woolly had insisted on keeping we felt that a little cheating might have gone on!
Woolly says – that was a small blip in an otherwise perfect round and I feel quite insulted as I NEVER cheat. My celebrations new no bounds, whatch out Tiger I’m coming to get you.
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Dancing Dave
David Hooper
NOW I GET IT
Woolley is human after all! Shane's mascots can't do this!!!