Travels in Turkey - Part 11


Strange as it may seem the relationship between Mehmet and I returned to exactly how it was before he cheated on me. Despite being apart for nearly six months, we picked up exactly where we left off. After an initial contact from him some four months after he dumped me, I made him wait a further two months before I flew out.

I remember the flight well as it was the first time in five years that I wasn't excited about going. I sat on the plane thinking and wondering what the hell I was doing going back? Needless to say, when I arrived, Mehmet was waiting in his usual place, but for once he was on his own.

Instead of the usual peck on both cheeks, he wanted a full snog in front of everyone-how embarrassing. We got in the car and drove to Ovacik. Mehmet was chatting away about what had been happening and I listened politely making the expected comment here and there.

Arriving at the hotel I was met by Mehmet's mum and brother. His father was nowhere to be seen, nor did I see him at all that holiday. I was later to learn that there had been one almighty argument and he was not speaking to Mehmet, me or his own wife, who he accused of condoning the relationship. I have never spoken to the man from this day and in fact I have never seen him again, although he is still alive and kicking.

I was taken to one of the new apartments and told that was where I was staying. Surprised and pleased, I set about unpacking. Obviously, Mehmet wanted to go straight to bed and after fighting him off for half and hour, I relented and gave in……………..I had thought that there would be problems because unlike men, women are emotionally affected when it comes to love making and although I was happy to be back with Mehmet, there were a lot of things left unsaid. The sex was as fantastic as it has ever been and I knew in an instant that I had made the right choice in going back.

Three hours later, we emerged to go out to eat. This was yet another surprise, because although we did occasionally eat out, it wasn't the norm and I was even more pleased when we drove into Fethiye and ate at one of the best restaurants in town. Over swordfish, which Mehmet had insisted on ordering we discussed what had gone wrong and the reasons behind it. Rather, Mehmet talked and I listened, adding my own thoughts and feelings.

Obviously, there was a lot of anger on my part and as Mehmet tried to explain how everything had developed, I tried very hard to keep cool, calm and collected. I did very well for the first half hour or so, and then he said something which had the effect of waving a red rag at a bull! I cannot remember the exact words, but it was along the lines of ‘she is older than you, but is married and has a lot of money'. That was it, I put down the glass of wine, and I had been sipping in a ladylike manner, picked up the bottle of water and threw the whole lot over him!

I don't know who was more shocked, him, me or the restaurant staff? As Mehmet sprang to his feet, I sat there complete transfixed at what I had done. No, I didn't apologize; in fact I clammed up completely. I passed a wad of napkins over and a waiter rushed up with a towel. People turned back to their tables and continued eating.

Towelling himself off, Mehmet sat back down and said ‘Well, I guess I deserved that!' Compared to what I thought he deserved, he got off lightly. I really thought that I had blown the relationship, in one moment of anger. In fact it seemed to cement us closer together.
We left the restaurant and drove to the Marina Disco. It is situated in the harbour area and a great place to strut your stuff.

As soon as we walked in, we were greeted by some English people who were apparently staying at the hotel next door to ours. One thing to learn right at the beginning of a relationship with a turk, is that regardless of the time or where you are, who you are with you are regarded as public property.

Fixing my ‘oh hello, nice to meet you' smile I joined them at the bar for drinks. I was introduced to a short blonde English girl with very large mammary glands, who was informed me that her name was Sara, she was 18 next week and was at the disco with the waiter from the hotel. With her were another English couple and a West Indian guy on his own.

As long as they were buying the drinks, I was more than happy to share there company. We all wandered down to the dance floor, they to dance and me to sit watching. I don't mind dancing, I am more than happy to be first on the floor, but this particular night I didn't feel that I wanted to shimmy.

I sat drinking, talking to the odd passing Turkish man and minding my own business. The music changed and the dancing became sexier. When I looked, I saw Mehmet dancing and sara trying to wrap her arms around him. I am not a jealous person and the number of girls who latch onto the hotel waiter, bar man is high. I could see Mehmet looking at me and trying to push her away. I simply ignored them both and began chatting to the West Indian guy.

He suggested we danced and I agreed. I then drifted onto the dance floor and strutted my stuff. I am not a brilliant dancer but I can do sexy and sexy I did. The next thing I know Mehmet is dragging me off the dance floor and telling me to sit down. Oh, I upset him did I? How inconsiderate of me.

I was told to sit at a table on the edge of the dance floor where Mehmet could see me and did so without any arguments. He extracted himself from sara and sat next to me. The group of us sat there chatting and drinking with the poor waiter who had escorted sara looking more and more miserable. I explained to the silly girl that if she had come with him, then she should sit and talk or dance with him. Her reaction was, ‘ I don't like him, and I just wanted to go to the disco'.

Another track was played which was raunchy and the English couple got up to dance. Not three feet from where I was sitting, Sara and the West Indian guy began to stimulate having sex. Mehmet thought it was funny, as did the other couple. I was horrified, picked up my
drink and marched off.

Now I am English and behaviour like that, reflects on me as a person or so I think. I didn't want to have any connection with that sort of behaviour, not in England and certainly not in Turkiye, I found an empty table at the far end of the disco and sat down quietly with my drink. A few people came to talk to me and asked why I was alone. It wasn't a problem, I was happy enough, I just would not sit at the same table or be associated with them.

Mehmet eventually came to find me, after he had gone out the exit, searched the car park, returned and found me sitting in a dark corner. He knows how I feel about that sort of behaviour and knew why I had walked off.

We sat down talking and sara came up to me and said she needed to talk. Off we went to the ladies…………if only ladies toilets could talk!! Inside, she explained that she had no money on her and didn't know how to get home, having come with the waiter who had naturally walked out and left her.

If she was expecting sympathy, I am afraid that she didn't get any. Brutally I told her that if she used her brains instead of her body, she wouldn't be in the situation. I then added rather cattily, that all she needed to do was hitch up with some guy with a car, give him what he wanted and he would take her home.

As I came out of the toilets, Mehmet was waiting and asked me what the problem was. When I told him, he said oh no problem I will take her home with us. Knowing better than to argue, I said nothing.
We left the disco and walked to the parked car. The three English crammed into the back with the waiter who was lurking outside (an estate car is important) and I waited for sara to emerge from the toilet. She did so, walked over to the passenger side of the car and tried to get in. By this time, I was far from happy with the stupid girl and gave her a huge grin when Mehmet told her to get in the back. Heheeee, let her know who is boss.

We drove out of Fethiye with the back wheels nearly scraping the road and up to Ovacik. All the way, sara who was sat between the two front seats, kept telling Mehmet what she wanted to do with him, how much she enjoyed sex etc etc. I don't know if the girl genuinely was thick or if she was one who take their pleasures wherever.

As we reached half way up the mountain, I shouted at Mehmet to stop the car. Being used to my strange ways, he did so. I opened the door and climbed out into the night. They all sat there waiting. I walked a little way up the road, back to the car and sat on the bonnet. Mehmet told me to get in the car and I refused.

For some reason I simply replied that I was not getting into the car with that Tart and that I would walk home. With that, I started walking up the road towards Ovacik. The car pulled up alongside and I was told again, to get in but this time, there was anger in his voice.
Swallowing my pride, I got in and sat in silence. Mehmet attempted to make me listen to ‘Our song' and was met with blank stares and no response. We reached Ovacik and dropped the waiter ,the couple and the West Indian guy off. A little further down the road was our hotel and I thought we were driving in and Sara and the remaining turk would walk to their hotel.

We slowed down at the hotel and Mehmet said I will be back in twenty minutes, I am just taking sara down to the beach. All I can say, is that there was this anger bubbling up inside of me and when that happens, I walk for miles. I have a problem of not being able to get away from anything in Turkiye and even a quiet moment is invaded by what is going on around you.

I got out the car and watched Mehmet drive off towards the beach. I walked back to the hotel next door and sat on the steps by the swimming pool, to clear my head and put my feelings into perspective. I don't know how long I sat there, but as time went on I became more annoyed that Mehmet was taking his time.

Jumping up I started walking down the road towards Hisaronu. Where I was going, or what I would do when I got there never entered my head. It is simply walk it out of your system. I walked from Yasaroðlu at Ovacik down to the school. Mehmet came flying up in the opposite direction and drove past me. Sooner or later he would realize that I had gone missing and come and look for me. I carried on walking, completely unbothered at any trouble I was creating.

I reached the big roundabaout at the top of the village and decided that I would go down to the beach. As I turned into the Ölü Deniz road a car screeched to a halt behind me. I didn't need to look, to know who it was and stood there waiting.

Mehmet came up and taking my arm, he asked me where I was going? I replied oh just a walk sevgilim. He looked really worried and told me not to do it to him again. He hadn't seen me when he drove past earlier, had gone to the hotel to our apartment, found it locked and woken his parents. He then got some mad idea that I had been abducted and got the whole family out of bed looking for me.

I got in the car and we drove back to the hotel. Angry words were exchanged in Turkish and Mehmet and I went to bed. Nothing was said about Sara or what had happened, but I knew I had over reacted. Luckily, Mehmet understood how I felt and was always supportive, however outrageous and irrational my behaviour was.

Oh, if only men learnt. The next day, I said I was going into Fethiye to do some shopping. To my surprise, Mehmet agreed it was a good idea and that he would pick me up at an agreed time. Smelling something fishy, god I am so suspicious, I asked what he would be doing? ‘ Oh Fedai and I are going to play volleyball in the pool, next door'. Nothing unusual in that so I said right I will go and get changed and catch the dolmus. Kissing Mehmet goodbye I went into the apartment.
I changed, picked up my purse and bag and locked up. Thinking that Mehmet may want to get changed before I got back, I thought I would drop the key off at the pool on my way.

As I walked up the steps to the swimming pool, I could hear laughter and screaming. I thought someone is enjoying themselves and reached the top step. There in the pool where around a dozen Turkish boys and men and one woman. The woman was wearing a white bikini bottom and was topless. She was bouncing around the deep end of the pool and the men were all standing goggle eyed in front of her. Strange as it may seem, I remember there was a water melon floating around.

The moment I walked up to the pool, Mehmet saw me. I didn't say a word. I looked at him, looked at her and he called out, I am just coming darling. I looked at the rest of the goggle eyed men and informed them in Turkish, that she, Sara was like a famous landmark- The Eiffel Tower (If you do not understand this terminology, please e-mail me for an explanation). With that I turned on my heel and walked down to the road to wait for a dolmus.

Before the dolmus came into sight, Mehmet was there dressed and sitting in the car. When I asked him where he was going, he said ‘ I thought I would come into Fethiye with you'. At times Mehmet would give the correct answers and others he would be a complete pratt.
We drove down to Fethiye and the only comment on the Sara matter was, ‘She is flying home tonight'. Subject closed.

We spent a great day shopping in Fethiye, drinking çay ,playing Tavla (backgammon) and enjoying the sunshine. For all his negative points, Mehmet has many positives and always knows how to have a laugh. He is one of those people who you know are there, simply by his energy. He never walked into anywhere, but literally bounced like Tigger.

I can honestly never remember many bad times with Mehmet, possibly three at the very most. We never argued and floated round on a cloud of happiness. It was pointless planning anything. We would decide to go someplace, someone would turn up and all the plans would be ditched and we would go off in a different direction. It was annoying at first, but you adapt or grin and bear it.

We returned to the hotel and changed for the bar. Unfortunately, the hotel was full and we were short staffed. Mehmet and I both worked in the kitchen, he going off to wait on tables. Once dinner was over, we would both work behind the bar. However romantic and appealing this sounds, it is very hard work and we would begin at 6am doing breakfasts, have a break from 10am to 11 when we would start lunches and the bar. We would then have from 2pm till 4pm before we needed to start cooking for the evening. The bar would be open from 6pm, until everyone went to bed which sometimes would not be until 4am. Worse would be the day people leave and others arrive. Generally the ones going leave at midnight and the ones arriving come at 3-4am. In between, rooms have to be cleaned and beds changed.

I don't know how they manage a whole season with those hours and two months at a time, was more than enough for me. It seems idyllic, working in the sun and meeting people but the sheer energy and hard work means that come Kasim (November) they are more than ready to hibernate for the winter, like the kaplumbaða (tortoise).

All too soon, the two weeks were coming to an end. I was reluctant to go home because I simply no longer trusted Mehmet, but I needed to come home simply to think. I am sure we had some special days including one, when we drove twice to Muðla to obtain Mehmet's driving licence. Whilst there, we popped into the hospital where his friend was working. The nurses all wore starched white uniforms and little frilly caps. We wandered, unaccompanied through various departments looking for this person. We never did find him, but it was an eye opener.

The dreaded day arrived and I was in tears. Mehmet drove me to the airport and took me inside. We had a drink together and he pressed a little box in my hand, yet again. The flight was called, I said ‘See you later' and walked away from the man I loved.

It was an awful flight and I cried and sniffed all the way home, wading through two packets of mini tissues. I opened the box as soon as we boarded and there inside was a gold ring. Mehmet had given me one previously, which I lost swimming in the lagoon and this replacement was identical.

How did I feel? Obviously I was deeply in love with the guy and despite all his screw-ups, it was obvious that he loved me. What does any normal sane woman do in the circumstances? She hangs in there and that is exactly what I did. Loving Mehmet was the easiest thing to do and the hardest to lose.

June 1994

Glad you enjoyed all Jen's tales.
She was one of the great characters of this forum in its infancy when it had a small membership.
A real one off who might not have always toed the line as Miss Average but sure as hell wont be ever forgotten!!
She made her mark without a doubt and members like that dont come along that often!!
God bless her.