We were delighted to be invited to celebrate the forty something birthday of a brand new friend. Vetpat Vicki is a gorgeous gal with pretty eyes and the radiant smile of an angel. The drenching humidity failed to dampen our spirits as we supped and chatted into the wee small hours. Earlier in the day Vicki was treated by her Turkish nearest and dearest. A slice of Victoria sponge at three followed by the slaughter of a sheep at four. It’s a sign of things to come as we edge closer to Kurban Bayram, the annual feast of sacrifice.
Perking the Pansies 
I traveled with a goat in the back of a car once only to find it hanging from the balcony the next morning a bit shocking at the time I still get a bit quizzy about Kurban Bayram
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Me too. Before we moved to Bodrum last year we actually got presented with a bag of bloody bones by our caretaker’s daughter . We were rather touched but assumed we were well down the pecking order just below unmarried mothers.
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Thankfully the Dutch don’t celebrate a holiday requiring animal sacrifice (for food or otherwise), or at least of which I’m aware. But I guess picking up that great steak, seafood or ribs at the butcher/fish store is similar…
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The slaughter of animals by the untrained is actually illegal here so it’s done furtively down back alleys and in back yards. The authorities turn a blind eye.
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