Turkey Street Uncovered

300,000 characters, 65,000 words, 350 pages, near-divorce bust-ups, seconds out sulks down the pub, slammed doors, never-ending re-writes and entire scenes littering the cutting room floor like yesterday’s news. Finally it’s done, dusted and shipped, and only 18 months later than I hoped. Life just got in the way. So it gives me great pleasure to declare that Turkey Street, Jack and Liam move to Bodrum will be published on 18th May in paperback from the usual retailers and digitally from Nook, Kobo and Apple iBooks. And, it’s available to buy on Amazon Kindle right now. No pressure.

Early reviews are in and I’m rather chuffed.

A great rattlingly paced read which also provides a snapshot of a Turkey that is changing in ways none of us, as yet, fully understand.

Barbara Nadel, author

Cutting wit, giggles and sadness – Jack and Liam’s dalliances with the expat world make for compelling reading.

Julia Power, Turkey’s for Life

A book that removes Turkey’s headscarf and tousles the hair a little – with comical and touching consequences. I loved it.

Jay Artale, author, the Bodrum Peninsula Travel Guide and Gümüşlük Travel Guide

A beautifully presented tale that segues cleverly from hilarious and irreverent to heartbreakingly poignant, told with insight and innovative language.

Kay McMahon, British Expat

Once again, Jack Scott expertly blends wit and humour in an accurate portrayal of daily Turkish life, warts and all!

Natalie Sayin, the Turkish Travel Blog

Turkey Street

Order the paperback on Amazon and Waterstones | Buy the Kindle on Amazon | Other buying options

Six months into their Turkish affair, Jack and Liam, a gay couple from London, took lodgings in the oldest ward of Bodrum Town. If they wanted to shy away from the curtain-twitchers, they couldn’t have chosen a worse position. Their terrace overlooked Turkey Street like the balcony of Buckingham Palace and the middle-aged infidels stuck out like a couple of drunks at a temperance meeting. Against all the odds, the boys from the Smoke were welcomed into the fold by a feisty mix of eccentric locals and a select group of trailblazing expats, irresistible ladies with racy pasts and plucky presents.

Hop aboard Jack’s rainbow gulet as he navigates the choppy waters of a town on the march and a national resurgence not seen since Suleiman the Magnificent was at the gates of Vienna. Grab your deckchair for a whirlwind tour of love and duty, passion and betrayal, broken hearts and broken bones, dirty politics and the dawn of a new Ottoman era.

No Purchase Necessary

To celebrate the launch of Summertime Publishing’s little sister, Springtime Books, we’ve got a few paperbacks to give away on Goodreads, the web’s most influential book site. It’s our way to get the party started. I ask for nothing in return but, if you win, a fair and honest review is always welcome. The authors would be chuffed. Click on the image to find out more and the chance to enter. Best of luck.

Goodreads Giveaways

On the Seventh Day of Christmas

2014 has been quite a year for us and our brethren…

The Seventh Day of Christmas

Okay, okay, I tried to make it scan to the tune of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ but failed miserably. Liam’s the musical one, not me. With such a helter-skelter year, I guess it’s it’s no wonder I didn’t get the second book out in time for the festive rush. The good news (or bad news, depending on your point of view) is that it’s with my publisher and will be out in the new year. Liam is hyperventilating at the prospect – my fiercest critic seems to like it. The blog’s done brisk business too with over ninety posts. Here are the top ten hits for 2014 – the usual diet of Turkish delights, smut, divine retribution, emigrey nonsense, men in women’s clothes, internet curios, fine guides and the love that dare not speak its name. I’m nothing if not predictable.

There is Bodrum and Then There is Turkey | The Biggest Cock in Town | The Great Flood |  | Gumusluk Travel Guide | Pantigate | The Love Letter | Istanbul Pride 2014 | Desperately Seeking Doreen | Bearded Men in Dresses | Norwich-Over-the-Water

This was the most popular image for 2014. I can’t think why.

Tom's Posing Pouch

Here’s looking ahead to more pansy adventures in 2015. And the Man Booker Prize. And oh, a few less real life medical dramas would be nice. Happy New Year to one and all.

The World Through Expat Eyes

InterNations

Hot of the press from the splendid people at InterNations is Expat Insider 2014, one of the largest global surveys of everyday life and personal happiness in the expat forest. As Turkey features in the top twenty destinations, it gets its own country profile. As well as the usual reasons for settling in Turkey (climate, low crime rate, family friendly environment, blah, blah), 13% of survey respondents moved there for love. Here we go again, all those Shirley Valentines being laid at low tide. It’s a bit of pet subject here at Pansy HQ and, unsurprisingly, is a recurrent theme in my new book, Turkey Street. Just in case you think it’s just me being smug as usual, fear not, I get my comeuppance and there’s a glimmer of redemption at the end.

Plucked, banged then blown out when the cash dried up, the orchestra of ladies kept on coming anyway, scouting Turkey’s resorts for love and orgasms.

Chapter 3 – Home Alone

‘Look, when your boat’s holed beneath the waterline, head for dry land. It’s no use bobbing about in the water like flotsam just because the sea is warm…’

Chapter 8 – The Sisterhood

As we supped our cocktails and nibbled the cheesy balls, the tragedy of Deborah’s tale was concluded in all its tawdry detail. With her husband scattered over the playing fields of Eton, Deborah sold the bistro, moved to Turkey and drowned her sorrows by jumping on top of any would-be gigolo who sailed past her patio. The boys got younger as she got older and she clung to the VOMIT lifeboat until her nails bled.

Chapter 15 – Happy Birthday Uncle Sam

‘Anyway, I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Jack Scott. About the VOMIT thing on your blog. You’ve got us wrong. We’re not all victims or washed up old slappers. And we don’t all chase pretty boys and drop our drawers at the first smile.’

And finally…

‘The Sisterhood, Jack?’ asked Doc.

‘Ex-VOMITs. Ladies who learn.’

‘That works for me.’

Chapter 31 – The Ringing of the Belles

I’m relieved to write that Turkey Street has finally gone off to my publisher for knocking into shape. Expect an early 2015 release. Life just gets in the way.

A Word or Two in British

George Benard ShawEnglish is a funny old foreign language. Turkey Street is littered with British cultural and geographical references, slang, idioms and place names that may fly over the heads of our cousins from across the seven seas. Cue Jack’s tongue-ever-so-slightly-in-cheek guide to Brit talk.

Am I bovvered? – The catchphrase of Lauren Cooper, a chav caricature from the BBC’s Catherine Tate Show. Unlike Vicky Pollard (see below), Lauren used a chavvy persona to disguise her intelligence.

Archers (The) – A long running soap on BBC Radio 4 about a dull farming community. Popular with those who prefer their beer warm and their neighbours white.

Argos – One of the largest high street retailers in Britain where customers flick through a fat catalogue, write their order on a little slip, pay at a till point and queue up at a warehouse counter to obtain their purchases. Weird.

Beak (The) – Judge or magistrate, so called because of the primitive gas masks stuffed with herbs and spices that medieval judges wore on the bench to ward off the plague. Little good it did them.

Betting shop biro – A half size ball point pen supplied free to punters who like a flutter on the horses. Millions of them end up in the bottom of handbags and manbags.

Bint – Bitch, originally a racist term (and still hardly complimentary) derived from the Arabic word for daughter and used by British soldiers in the Great War.

Bigwig – An Eighteenth Century VIP, the bigger the wig, the more important the person.

Blackpool – A trashy British seaside resort in northwest England famous for fish ‘n’ chips, kiss-me-quick hats, loose morals, brash illuminations and even brasher bottle blonds.

Blimey – An exclamation of surprise and an abbreviation of gorblimey, ‘God blind me.’ Blimey, who knew?

BNP – The British National Party and a nasty bunch of neo-Nazi nutters they are too.

Bruce Forsythe – Britain’s favourite all-round entertainer and a man older than the dinosaurs. Brucie is famous for his soft-shoe shuffle, catch phrases, dodgy wig, lantern jaw and marrying women young enough to be his granddaughter.

Bung – Bribe, not to be confused with the abbreviation for bung hole.

Cheesy Wotsits – A brand of ‘cheese’ flavoured corn puffs that stick to the teeth for days.

Chelsea Tractors – The large 4×4 vehicles that clog up the streets of rush hour London while Camilla drops little Hugo off at his private prep school.

Cherry Bakewell – A tart of short crust pastry with a layer of jam, ground almond sponge, topped with fondant and crowned with a glacé cherry. The very thought of it hardens the arteries.

Children of the Damned – A 1964 science fiction film about a group of evil children with psychic powers and the strapline ‘Beware the eyes that paralyse!’

Chips – French fries. What the Yanks call chips, Brits call crisps.

Clap Clinic – An STD clinic, from the Old French word clapoir, meaning a venereal bubo – an enlarged gland in the groin associated with sexually transmitted diseases. Ouch.

Clare Balding – A TV sports presenter with short hair and big bones.

Cottage – A public toilet visited by men seeking men, from Polari, a slang language used in Britain by sinners on the social margins – actors (when acting was considered no better than whoring), circus and fairground showmen, criminals, prostitutes, and, up to the early Seventies, gay people.

Council Tax – A property tax that helps pay for local services. It’s never been popular but then Brits are reluctant to pay for anything that isn’t related to booze, fags, the gee-gees and the footie (that’s liquor, cigarettes, horse betting and soccer).

Craic (pronounced crack) – An Irish term for fun, conversation and entertainment. The word is a Gaelicised version of the Middle English word crak meaning ‘loud conversation.’

Croydon – A soulless south London suburb famous for its high rise centre and Sixties shopping mall. Also one of the chaviest places on Earth (see Vicky Pollard below).

Cumberland Sausage – A delicious pork sausage shaped like a dog turd originating in the historic county of Cumberland. Cumberland is in the English Lake District (where it rains 364 days a year).

Delia – Delia Smith, the matriarch of British celebrity cooks and, just like nanny, not a woman to meddle with.

Dip his wick – Now come on, what else could it mean?

Dosh – Money, derived from God knows what.

Earls Court – A district of West London and the Capital’s gay village back in the day (no more than a couple of shabby dive bars and a seedy club: no match for Amsterdam or San Francisco).

Eton Wick – A village in England close to the college town of Eton which is the home to the famous private school the alma mater to a political class that has absolutely no idea about the price of a pint or a line of coke.

Fag – Cigarette (not a derogatory term for homosexual as it is in Yankee). Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘sucking on a fag.’

Harry Judd – The dangerously horny drummer for the boy band McFly. Women (and some men) across the land wet their panties at the very thought of him.

Hi-De-Hi – The title and catchphrase of the strangely entertaining Eighties’ BBC TV sitcom set in a fictional holiday camp featuring hammy acting, corny plots and slapstick humour.

Hobnob – A popular and very moreish biscuit made from oats. A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, especially when covered in thick milk chocolate.

Home Counties – The shires that ring London, often characterised as prosperous, middle class and terminally boring.

Isle of Wight – A diamond-shaped green and pleasant island off the south coast of England. It’s where people go to die and where Jack first had sex (but not with a pensioner).

Jammy Dodgers – A round shortbread biscuit with a raspberry-flavoured jam filling, popular with children. To badly paraphrase the Jesuits, ‘Give me the boy until he is seven and I will give you the obese man with heart disease, high cholesterol and Type 2 diabetes.’

Kerfuffle – Fuss or commotion. Derived from carfuffle, from the Scots English word car (probably from Scottish Gaelic cearr wrong, awkward) and fuffle, to become dishevelled. Fancy that.

Khazi – A toilet, possibly derived from the Swahili word m’khazi meaning a latrine.

Kirk – A church in Scots and similar to words all over northern Europe – kirkja, kyrka, kyrkje, kirke, kirche, kerk, tsjerke, kirik, kirkko. I blame the Vikings.

Knacker’s Yard – A place where old animals not for human consumption are taken to be slaughtered. Aka an old people’s home.

Knocked Off – Stolen or fake, like most of the goods sold in the East End markets of London and pazars all over Turkey.

Knocking Shop – A venue to meet people for casual sex (for consumption on or off the premises). What was your name again?

Lancashire – A historic county in northwest England which has the dubious privilege of counting Blackpool among its treasures. Also home to Lancashire Hot Pot, a dull and tasteless lamb stew that requires little skill and no imagination to prepare.

Last Knockings – See Knocking Shop above. The last men standing at the end of a hard night.

Loo – Toilet, possibly from the cry gardyloo (from the French regardez l’eau ‘watch out for the water’), which was shouted by medieval servants as they emptied chamber pots from upstairs windows into the street.

Looker – Someone nice to look at. Like me when I was younger. Much younger.

Louie Spence – A very, very camp British choreographer and TV personality, grandma’s favourite and a man who is way beyond gay.

Malarkey – Nonsense. There’s a lot of it in the book.

Marge Proops – Once Britain’s most famous and trusted agony aunt. No oil painting but a wise old bird. She fell off her perch in 1996.

Marks and Spencer – A clothes and food retailer, the cornerstone of the high street and as British as the Queen (except Her Maj is German and most M&S products are imported).

Marmite – A sticky dark brown food paste made from yeast extract with a distinctive and powerful flavour. It is truly disgusting and quite rightly banned in Canada on health grounds.

Midnight Flit – To leave secretly. Popular with people trying to avoid the rent.

Midsomer – The fictitious county featured in the long-running whodunit TV series. It’s depicted as the epitome of tight-arsed Middle England and, judging by the murder rate, a more dangerous place to live than Baghdad.

Milk Tray – One of Britain’s favourite boxes of chocolates. Targeted at desperate women who think that stuffing their mouths with cheap confectionary will send a James Bond lookalikie swinging through their bedroom window on a rope (or so the ad implies). Dream on, ladies.

Miss Blobby – A variation on Mr Blobby, a character on an old Saturday night variety TV show, a ridiculous fat pink monstrosity covered with yellow pox spots.

Mother’s Ruin – Gin, so-called because of its popularity with Eighteenth Century washer women trying to blot out their wretched lives with home brew.

Mucker – Best friend in Ulster English. Also a farm hand who shovels shit.

Nicker – From nick, to steal. The verb is also slang for being arrested and the noun is slang for a prison cell – crime, apprehension and punishment all wrapped up in the same word. Has a poetic ring, don’t you think?

No.6 – Cheap brand of Seventies cigarettes that first got Jack addicted to the dreaded weed.

Nookie – An abbreviation of Nook and cranny, cockney rhyming slang for sex. Cranny rhymes with fanny which in British is a lady’s front bottom (not her booty as in Yankee).

Norfolk – England’s breadbasket and most easterly county, a place where the gene pool has been badly damaged by centuries of in-breeding.

Norwich – The county town of Norfolk and a city with more medieval churches than any other north of the Alps. Most have been boarded up or converted into coffee shops.

O Levels – An end of year subject-based examination taken by 16 year old across all parts of the United Kingdom except Scotland. In the Eighties it was scrapped and replaced by the GCSE – dumbed down and much easier to cheat in.

Page Three – The Sun ‘Newspaper’ once Britain’s undisputed champion red top which features images of topless busty babes on page three. It’s all good clean fun and not intended to objectify women in the slightest.

Portobello Road – A poncy (i.e. showy or affected) street in the Notting Hill district of West London with a pretentious street market and shops selling over-priced ‘antiques’ to gullible tourists.

Primarni – An oxymoronic amalgamation of Primark (the British chain famous for cheap disposable fashion) and Armani (where shopping requires a second mortgage). A term used to describe those with champagne tastes but beer bottle pockets. That’ll be Jack and Liam then.

Putney – A smug little suburb in southwest London famous for the annual Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race and where Jack misspent his youth relying on the kindness of strangers along its moonlit towpath.

Quid – Slang for a British pound, possibly derived from the Latin ‘quid pro quo,’ – to exchange something for something else.

Ragamuffin – A dirty, shabbily-clothed street child straight out of Dickens.

Reet (Right) little earner – Brummie (the accent of Birmingham) for something that pays well, like fixing the LIBOR Rate or laundering money through a Caribbean tax haven.

Saga – A company that specialises in servicing the over fifties. Libel laws prevent further comment.

Saveloy – A sausage with no discernable natural ingredients, hence the bright red colour. The genuine article glows in the dark.

Samantha Janus (now Womack) – Represented the UK at the 1991 Eurovision Song Contest. She sang so flat, ears bled and dogs howled. Samantha now plays the unhinged Ronnie Mitchell in EastEnders, Britain’s most depressing soap.

Scallies – A term derived from ‘scallywags’ to describe a UK subculture of working class youths of uncertain parentage who have adopted street fashion as their uniforms. And no, they’re not all muggers from broken homes.

Séverine – She won the 1971 Eurovision Song Contest for Monaco with a belting ballad entitled ‘Un Banc Un Arbre Une Rue’ (A Tree, A Bench, A Street). Great tune, ridiculous lyrics. That’s the French for you.

Shagging – Sexual intercourse. One of those wonderful words that does what it says on the tin but is less offensive than the F word.

Sink Estates – Grim and poor quality social housing schemes from the Sixties and Seventies that have remained in public ownership because you couldn’t give them away. Generally used to corral those at the bottom of the social heap.

Sitges – An elegant seaside resort near Barcelona in Spain popular with the gays, particularly those who like to wear tight pants for a night on the tiles then drop them on the beach at 4am.

Slag/Slapper/Slut – A person of generous disposition who drops them at the first smile, like the young Jack.

Slough – Ugly sister to Windsor and Eton. ‘Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!’ wrote former Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman. Says it all.

Sparky – An electrician. Obviously.

Strongbow – A brand of cheap cider that helped Jack onto the slippery slope of alcohol dependency and cirrhosis of the liver.

Sussex – The beautiful historic county on the south coast of England roughly equivalent to the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of the South Saxons and now split into West and East Sussex and which sits on top of vast reserves of gas ripe for the fracking. Also home the Rude Man of Cerne, a well-hung giant cut into the chalk down with the morning manhood of a porn star.

Swan Vesta – The brand name for the most popular kind of ‘strike-anywhere’ matches in the UK. Especially popular with arsonists.

Tea Leaf – Cockney rhyming slang for ‘thief.’ Theft is the preferred occupation of those living in the East End of London along with dressing up as pearly monarchs, eating jellied eels and brawling on a Saturday night.

Tenko – An early Eighties BBC series chronicling the fate of a mixed collection of imperious women interned by the Japanese after the fall of Singapore in World War Two. Appalling living conditions, malnutrition, disease, violence and even death failed to dent the superiority of some of the dames of the Empire. Comes from the Japanese for ‘roll-call’.

The Only Gay in the Village – The proud lament of Daffyd Thomas, the Welsh character from the BBC comedy sketch show Little Britain. Like all the gays of Harlech, he minces round a mining town in PVC and rubber fetish wear.

The Smoke – London, so-called because the huge metropolis was once afflicted by smog, a thick and deadly carpet of coal smoke and fog that once killed people by the thousand. The title has now passed on to a choking Beijing.

Tic-Tac Man – An on-course bookmaker who uses a traditional method of signing the odds on certain horses. It looks like someone’s having a fit.

Tiffin – A slang term for a light meal originating in India during the good old days of the British Raj (before the Brits lost an empire and miserably failed to become good Europeans).

Toff – Upper class, rich and often stupid, possibly derived from the Anglo-Saxon ‘toforan’ (superiority) or ‘toffee-nosed’ from the toffee-like nasal mucus that leaked from the snouts of Nineteenth Century snuff-sniffers. Yuk.

Tooting – A suburb of South London, shabby no chic.

Twat – An idiot. Yes an idiot. What else could it mean?

Vicky Pollard – A character from the BBC comedy sketch show Little Britain and the epitome of the British female chav – poor white trash in fake designer-wear, usually up the duff (i.e. pregnant) by the age of thirteen.

Wads – Bundles of banknotes, often illegally obtained.

Walnut Whip – A cone of hollow thick milk chocolate filled with vanilla fondant and topped with a walnut. Impossible to eat without looking like a cheap slut.

William Morris – A Nineteenth Century English textile designer, poet, novelist, translator, and revolutionary socialist with a very long beard. As a designer, he loved floral designs, just like the village ladies of Turkey.

Willy-nilly – Haphazardly. From the Old English ‘wile hē, nyle hē,’ literally: ‘will he or will he not?’

Wonga – Money, possibly from the Romany for ‘coal’ and now the name of a pay day loan company that lends to the feckless at stratospheric interest rates.

Turkey StreetTo find out more about Turkey Street, Jack and Liam move to Bodrum here.

The Barber’s Tale

Sweeny ToddAnother day, another painful nip and tuck to the manuscript of Turkey Street. ‘Nice story,’ Liam had said at the time. ‘Cut it.’ Naturally, I complied, unable to bear another hangdog look from my taskmaster. So, ladies and gents, I give you the barber’s tale, ripped from the heart of Turkey Street before it went off to the publishers – Sweeney Todd minus the music, the murder and the meat pies.

Barber's_Tale1Barbers_Tale_2

Turkey Street

The sequel to Perking the Pansies is the story of our lives weaved in between those around us. For a good few months, act two of our emigrey tales had the working title of The Sisterhood. Why? Well, the overwhelming majority of our big hitting cast, emigrey and Turkish alike, were women trying to steer their own course in a man’s world – some sailed off into the sunset while others floundered on the rocks. From the start, the title seemed a fitting choice. The sisters were the main event while we were the spectators. But, as the book went from story board to page, it became increasingly clear that we weren’t mere voyeurs and the story wasn’t just about the Bodrum Belles we lived among. The bigger picture was about change and moving on – for them, for us, for Turkey. So now there is a new working title:

Turkey Street,

Jack and Liam move to Bodrum

Lady in Bodrum

Six months into their Turkish affair, Jack and Liam, a gay couple from London, took lodgings in the oldest ward of Bodrum Town. If they wanted to shy away from the curtain-twitchers, they couldn’t have chosen a worse position. Their terrace overlooked Turkey Street like the balcony of Buckingham Palace and the middle-aged infidels stuck out like a couple of drunks at a temperance meeting. Against all the odds, the boys from the Smoke were welcomed into the fold by a feisty mix of eccentric locals and a select group of trailblazing expats, irresistible ladies with racy pasts and plucky presents. Hop aboard Jack’s rainbow gulet as he navigates the choppy waters of a town on the march and a national resurgence not seen since Suleiman the Magnificent was at the gates of Vienna. Grab your deckchair for a whirlwind tour of love and duty, passion and betrayal, broken hearts and broken bones, dirty politics and the dawn of a new Ottoman era.

Happy Birthday, Uncle Sam

Turkey StreetThere’s a tense stand off in the Scott-Brennan household. The air has cleared of gun smoke leaving a wreckage of words scattered round the cutting room floor. It happened last time for my first book and it’s happening again for the sequel. Just when I thought I’d got the bloody thing done and dusted, Liam slashes it with his big red pen. It’s all to the good in the end but the tortuous journey is littered with out-takes that have cut me to the core.

My post before last was about our good fortune with neighbours in recent years. I deliberately left out Clement, our first neighbour in Turkey because, well, we were rather pleased to see the back of him. Now poor Clement has been left out of the book too. Still, nothing gets wasted. It just gets recycled, like most of my rubbish these days. So Ladies and gents, as it’s American Independence Day, here’s the neighbour’s tale, a painful cut from Turkey Street, Chapter 13, Happy Birthday, Uncle Sam.

Clement's Tale

 

 

 

 

2013 in Review

Perking the Pansies recovered from a difficult birth at the murderous hands of the Turkish censors, thrived through the terrible twos and survived the transitional threes, ending the year with 60,000 hits for the last twelve months. Thank you to everyone and anyone who’s passed by and glanced at my random witterings. Most blogs burn out after two years so I must be living on borrowed time.

As the sun sets on 2013, in the best Hogmanay tradition, I give you the year’s top ten – a pick ‘n’mix treat of bum cleavage, Turks at the barricades, a shot in the arm, a tender coming out story, a sexy rugger bugger, a book to send you to sleep, an old-time boozer, an olive tree planted in a foreign field and a scratched itch.

Plumber’s Bum

It was the picture wot won it.

Turkey Troubles

A revolution in the making?

Tom Daley: Something I Want to Say

Saying it before someone said it for him.

Gareth Thomas, Dancing on Ice Drama

Who said ice-prancing rugger buggers can’t read?

Life in the Old Blog Yet

With thanks to the nice people at WordPress who featured me on one of their big hitting sites.

Turkey, Surviving the Expats – Out Now!

Keeping me out the workhouse.

God Save the Queen’s Head

A Chelsea classic and old watering hole of mine.

From Little Acorns...

A small corner of Turkey that is forever John.

Seven Year Itch

A soppy tale from Liam.

Turkey, Who Will Blink First?

And we all know who did in the end, don’t we?

For some inexplicable reason, this was the most popular image of 2013, featured in Let’s Hear it for the Brides.

Nine Elms
The Thames at Nine Elms

And I shouldn’t forget the perennial favourites from previous years that keep coming back again and again like a bad case of thrush.

Gran Canaria Sex Emporium

Proving that ‘sex’ really is the most searched for word on Google.

Now That’s What I Call Old

A humble little post about a spectacular discovery in eastern Turkey that just keeps on giving while the archaeologists keep on digging  – 8,000 hits and climbing. Who would have thought?

Expat Glossary

Oft quoted and oft plagiarised (and not always with a credit, tut tut)

Goodbye to the Turkish Living Forum

The few spoiling it for the many. A real shame.

Turkey Street RecliningAnd what of 2014? All I know is that Turkey Street, Jack and Liam move to Bodrum will be out early in the year. Will it be as successful as the first one? Who knows? Not me. Whatever happens, come rain or shine, a happy and prosperous year to all my pansy fans. Thank you for staying the course and for your remarkable support. I’m touched but then, I have been for years.