Strobe Lightning

Last night, the heavens opened and we were entertained by a real snap, crackle and pop of a storm. What is it about Turkish raindrops? They seem so much heavier than the Blighty variety as they fall to the ground like cluster bombs. As we watched the spectacle from our balcony, our courtyard became littered with adolescent olives and the road outside was overcome by a river of brown sludge that sloshed against our garden wall. We unplugged our fancy electricals as a precaution against the strobe lightning, positioned towels at vulnerable points around the house and hoped for the best.

At least the town’s first autumnal wash did douse the semi-parched garden. At the beginning of the summer, our neighbour took sole charge of our joint plot and made a valiant effort to keep it well watered. His initial enthusiasm eventually waned to half-hearted resentment; he seemed very pleased with the biblical downpour. We were less enthusiastic. Midway through the tempest, our roof sprang a leak and our fuse box, which is illogically located on an external wall, tripped. Compared to some, we got off lightly. We’re planning a joint birthday shindig this month; our birthdays are two weeks apart. At this rate it will be illuminated by candles and guests will be entertained by transistor radio while they sup warm white wine and dance around strategically placed buckets.
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20 thoughts on “Strobe Lightning

  1. Sounds like our rain. But then we are in the tropics. Strangely though we have had this very English drizzle lately, just dripping away. Unusual. But you could call your birthday party a “super-retro party” or something, perhaps… back to basics, kind of thing. No??


  2. You may recall water got into our fusebox this week too…and ours is inside th house. Goodness knows who the electric companies employed to originally install them? Untrained monkeys perhaps? We’re still mopping up and trying to dry everything out. Every year I say the same thing..I’ve never seen rain like it. It’s quite brutal isn’t it?
    Lets hope it dries out before your birthday bash.


    1. Untrained monkeys indeed. The problem, I think, is that Turkish workers seem to be jack of all trades and definitely masters of none. Has you fuse box dried out?


      1. Yes it has Jack and I hope yours has too. Mr A went up on the roof to find the leak and sealed it. I of course insisted he had the pleasure of switching on the elctricity again…after all Turks are much braver about such things.


  3. I was as if nature treated us to a fireworks and light show display. Amazing to watch and hear but not so good when the electricty trips off and you have water trying to make inroads from vulnerable parts of your home. Good for the gardens though lol as we always used to say. Marge x


  4. Spectacular and expensive! The Belediye JCBs have been out re-instating “roads” throughout Gumbet and Konacik…….I haven’t ventured any further as yet!


  5. Rain here in Selcuk appears to be easing off. We are trying not to be smug about our non-leaky house. Though the water did rise quite alarmingly close to the bedroom window. Hoping for a dry week or two – we need to do some work on the wooden windows before it rains like that again. Have woodstain/preservative – not afraid to use it.


    1. Constant maintenance is a must. You’ll probably find you’ll be revarnishing every year. We have to. The extremes of temperature makes even the best yacht paint peel.


  6. Spare a thought for us non-expats who tried to fly into Bodrum on Monday last……………the plane diverted to Rhodes!!!

    I have to say, we came for the sun, but the storms were spectacular. Watching the lightning rolling around the hills was a sight to behold.


  7. Your party sounds completely freaking fantastic and I’d totally come.
    If I were in Bodrum.
    And invited.
    I’m not hinting. I’m just being careful about appearing cheeky.

    I love the proper storms we get here. I’ll bet the British must be like us Oregon folk, with a cache of different names for the various forms of wetness dangling from the sky, going, “It’s not raining, you call this rain?” when everyone else is getting nervous and paying too much for umbrellas from those guys that appear out of nowhere when the wetness starts falling.

    I tend to say “meh” to umbrellas. Then there’s a proper rainstorm, a wall of rain with monstrous drops where you’re soaked through in 2 minutes and 5 children have died in the more unsavory parts of town.

    Have you ever seen that middle-of-the -street lightening that sometimes happens before and after storms? It’s weird.


    1. Of course you’re invited. I like wild and wacky people. I’m pleased to announce the sun has come out and power is restored. I haven’t had the pleasure of the middle-of-the-street lightning. That would be a sight to see (unless of course, I’m walking down the middle of the street at the time!)


  8. I have some brilliant wine-bottle-size coolers I can lend you 🙂 You should have seen the storms from my perch up on the hill – breathtaking and, at moments, terrifying at the same time. Amazingly no power cuts and only 1 leak which was partly my fault for not closing a window properly (though Digiturk was a bit squiffy through the heavier rainfall).


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