I’ve been to Turkey before and it’s one of my favourite places. The busselling craziness of Istanbul. Thousands of tourists, the madness of the grand bazar, sweeping views of the Bosphorus, the silence of Anzac cove.  When I arrive I always seem to be on the gate furthest away from immigration. Nothing like a two km walk to get that circulation back. Then after battling the metro system for a couple of hours. Guys you could try a few directions, and place names. Not every one knows where they are going. I find my friends at the Pera palace hotel. They have booked me in for my birthday. Turkish home of Agatha Christy, Ataturk, and a mirriad of others over its hundred year history.  It’s way above my pay grade. Very old world 5 star charm, with a pool, and a daily afternoon tea to die for. We are off to the Stan’s next, and don’t really know what to expect, so we live it up. Maria guides us to all the  bars, cafes, and San Sebastián cheese cake hot spots.  

            After my return from Stan’s, lm in need of a holiday.  Being  shuffled around from place go place by a guide is great, but after a couple of weeks. I need a beach to chill on. Turkey has some of the highest inflation in the world, so Istanbul can be a bit pricey if you’re not careful. Think $55 Cuba Libres, and other essentials. Time to catch the bus south. These guys have the best long distance busses in the world.  The conductor even serves free coffee, and snacks, a bit like flying in the good old days.  Izmir is the first stop, afterwards I’m thinking Mamraius and Anatolia. Izmir is a good start, quiet hotel just off the strip of bars and cafes. Loads of ferries , bit short on beaches though. Head south I thinks, but then out of the blue Thommo calls, “wanna catch up?”    Athens, been there, Slovenia, there too, How about Crete ,bingo. Six hours later I’m on a Agieain plane using  points I’d never thought I’d use, and those Euros I’ve been carting around. Heraklion, is the main town, then we head on to Chania. Finally Jill and l, hit Palaiochora, as Thommo, heads back to keep the country going. This is it, the perfect little “Mamma Mia” village with a great sandy beach, and cafes full of roast dead things as far as the eye can see. I could spend a year here.

        Ten days later it’s Turkey time again. An over night just to make sure I don’t miss my plane home,and spend all those lira that will become worthless with inflation in about a month. One last Kabab and I’m out of here.