The Turkish oil wrestling circus came to an ancient town. A picnic field near the obscure and little excavated Lelegian city of Pedasa, high in the hills above Bodrum, hosted a greasy competition of brute force and suspect hand insertions. The ancient smack down imported by the nomadic Turks from the windswept steppes of Central Asia was staged by the lubed-up lads in lederhosen (or kisbets as they’re correctly called) with enthusiasm and grunting gusto. Getting a slippery grip on a marinated boy basting in the midday sun would challenge the most dedicated follower of a bit of rough and tumble. It was an all-family affair with drums, horns and B-B-Q chicken. I’ll leave the last word to a Bodrum Belle of our acquaintance who supplied the snaps.

“Fat men getting feisty in flora! I even caught them having a soapy shower behind the fire engine afterwards but you will see that, for most of them, the greasy glory days are sadly over. Have you and Liam never fancied cavorting in Castrol?”

The answer’s no. We leave the homoerotic horseplay to the hetties. They do it so much better.

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Imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, married, middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country. I chronicled our exploits with the mad, the bad, the sad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Then came the book which became a critically acclaimed best seller. Its success opened out a whole new career for me, firstly as an author, and now as an indie publisher. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me. In June 2012, we ended our Anatolian affair and paddled back to Britain on the evening tide, washing up in Norwich, a surprising city in eastern England, then to the wilds of Norfolk as the only gays in the village. I’m sometimes nostalgic for our encounters with the hopeless, the hapless and, yes, the happy go lucky. They gave me an unexpected tale to tell and for this I thank them.

14 thoughts on “Turkish Wrestling, Lube and Lederhosen”

  1. I think I get the picture from your Bodrum Belle, peeking on them taking a shower! Ah well. Not sure what’s going on with the hand insertions though… although I can take a guess…

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  3. I remember the first time I was dragged along to see this spectacle when it came to Selçuk. I was reluctant and was sure I’d get bored after 10 minutes. Three hours later I was hooked. I absolutely love it. It’s far more exciting than I imagined it would be. And the noisy atmosphere is wonderful. A great day out.

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  6. . . I was watching some paint dry the other day and I got to reminiscing about the time in Uluborlu at the Grease Wresting . . nice photos, mind!

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  7. On our way to Kaş, we passed through a small town and my hubby said that was where they have the wrestling matches. Is it in more than one location? Different times? Someday I want to see these men in leather pants and olive oil. I get goosebumps just thinking about it!

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  8. I think there are events in various parts of Turkey by the main annual tournament (a kind of wrestling world cup) is staged in Edirne in Thrace.

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