And The Winner Is…Me

Bodrum at NightI’m a little bit pleased with myself. I’ve entered a few travel writing competitions over time. I don’t actually expect to win. My writing style (such as it is) is a little unconventional for some. It’s fine, I don’t mind being an also ran. Besides. there’s no such thing as bad publicity as the PR pimps say; it’s all to the good. So you could have knocked me over with a feather boa when I found out that my entry, Bodrum, Turkey’s San Tropez, to the I Must Be Off Travel Writing Contest 2014 was awarded third place by judge, Robin Graham. Robin said of my little piece:

“Very professional – a knowledgeable and informative introduction to a destination that digs beneath the surface, in an engaging style.”

But there’s more. Yesterday, I received news that I’d come in first for the Reader’s Choice Award. A massive hand to anyone who took the trouble to visit and comment on the article. Thank you. I’m really chuffed!

God Save the Queen

NNUHRegular readers might remember that, last year, I had keyhole surgery when a double stent was inserted into my abdomen to deal with a narrowing of the arteries supplying blood to my legs. It was affecting my mobility and a major pain in the arse (or to be precise, the calves). Although the operation itself was successful, one of the stents failed almost immediately. This happens in about 10% of cases (trust me to be in a minority yet again). After a period of reflection and torture on a treadmill three times a week, I chose to advance to Plan B – an aorta bi-femoral graft, a more traditional way of bypassing the logjam. I went under the surgeon’s knife at the end of July.

BypassAs I was wheeled to the anaesthetist, I hummed ‘God Save the Queen.’ It seemed appropriate and helped keep my pecker up and my blood pressure down. The bypass was a major op but relatively routine and given my age and general good health, everything went like clockwork. Please give a hand to Darren Morrow, a vascular surgeon with talented hands. He stitched me up good and proper (actually he super glued me up good and proper). I was discharged a few days ago and have been recovering at home ever since. I’m sore but otherwise in fine fettle, largely thanks to the liquid morphine (highly recommended). Those familiar with Blackadder will know that every queen has a nursie and I have mine. Liam is famed throughout Christendom for his bedside manner and grape peeling. I’m a lucky boy. But at times like this I wish I had a proper job – just so I could get three months off work with full pay. I was rarely ill during my time as a municipal bean-counter. Maybe I could apply for a back-dated payment?

A Healthy Intermission

Normal broadcasts will be resumed shortly. In the meantime, here are a few random shots of the micro-loft.

 

Holding Out for a Super-Hero

Holding Out for a Super-Hero

Just like good old Auntie Beeb, I aim to inform, educate and entertain. It’s for others to judge whether I succeed or not. I find myself rather indisposed at the moment (more of this later) so my ambitions will have to be curtailed for a while. I am, therefore, delivering on the daft instead.

Superhero

Apparently, I’m Kick-Ass Destroyer. Who knew? And you?

Norwich Pride 2014

We’ve had a good run of sun so far this summer and there was no rain on the Pride Parade. Old queens that we are, we watched the Technicolor pageant from the balcony of the Theatre Royal with a triumphant glass of chilled white. A striking feature of this year’s procession was Umbrellas of Love created by local artist Vince Laws, highlighting the desperate plight of many LGBT people throughout the Commonwealth, particularly poignant as the Commonwealth Games are currently being held in Glasgow. According to the Commonwealth Charter, member states agree to respect and protect human rights. Total crap of course. It’s illegal to be gay in 42 of the Commonwealth 53 nations where punishment ranges from the terrifying to the barbaric – 10 years imprisonment to execution. And don’t get me started on female genital mutilation. So there it is, the Commonwealth Charter is just so much cheap toilet paper.

My underpowered Samsung so-called smart phone wasn’t smart enough to do justice to the fun and frolics of the parade. For a good selection, take a gander at the Norwich Pride Facebook page.

Coach and Horses

After the procession we re-grouped in the Coach and Horses pub to quench our thirsts. Today, of course, we have terminal wine flu.

Say it Again, Sam

I’m like a stick of rock. No matter how much you nibble, you always find the word ‘London’ running through me. But, my love affair with the Old Smoke has cooled of late. Now I’m older, slower and stiffer, I’m less in the mood for the no-time-to-talk, coffee-on-the-go fast lane of many colours that is the great metropolis. These days I’m content to dip in and out as and when. And each time I do, London whacks me across the face to remind me not to neglect my ardour. Just like the time, during the Turkey years, we returned for Christmas and found ourselves surrounded by a gaggle of girls painting the town red and having a ball. We’d got so used the absence of women from our Turkish townscape, it felt totally liberating. Then there was the afternoon we emerged from Tottenham Court Tube Station to be swept along by a tsunami of people drawn from the four corners of the world demonstrating how truly international London has become. And just recently, I stood in the concourse of Victoria Station and noticed how young everyone was as they darted around me. I suddenly felt ancient. Norwich, by comparison, seems positively geriatric despite her two universities and student vibe. Wasn’t it Samuel Pepys who famously wrote, ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life’? I may have slowed down a little but I hope I will never tire of either.

There is Turkey and Then There is Bodrum

Harbour View
Bodrum Castle Mosque
Gulets
Bar Street
There is Bodrum and Then There is Turkey
Castle Anfora
Bodrum Castle at Night
Bodrum Castle
Bodrum House

A few weeks back, I entered another writing competition with the marvellous ‘I Must Be Off!’ travel site. The piece is about Bodrum (naturally) and was adapted from my 2013 e-book ‘Turkey, Surviving the Expats‘. Somehow, my entry has made it to the last seven. Will I fall at the final fence? The competition is stiff so we shall see. Bronze, silver and gold will be announced at the end of the month. I’ve got my fingers crossed for my place on the podium. In the meantime, there’s a Reader’s Choice Award up for grabs too, based on the number of hits and comments. This award is open until the 10th August. Can I trouble you for a hit and a comment on the article itself by clicking on the link below? I thank you.

PtP2 Kindle1Bodrum, Turkey’s San Tropez by Jack Scott

August 2014 Update: Yesterday, I received news that I’d come in first for the Reader’s Choice Award. A massive hand to anyone who took the trouble to visit and comment on the article. Thank you. I’m really chuffed!

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.

Goat Herder Required, Apply Within

House-sitting and house-swapping are fantastic low cost ways of getting to stay in some amazing places. We have old friends in Turkey who live in…

…Gökcebel, a sprawling village in the foothills above Yalıkavak. Their impressive detached pile is surrounded on all sides by a well-manicured walled garden and patrolled by a trio of cats brought in from the bins. Just like its owners, the house is elegant, unpretentious and homely.*

They often exchange their village homestead for ruritanian French gites and posh Californian condos. All they ask (along with the place not being trashed, obviously) is that their soporific cats are fed and watered. Easy.

Now we’re in our new gaff, we might get in on the act. There must be people out there who wouldn’t mind laying their hat in a well-appointed micro-garret with all mod-cons minutes away from the delights of Norwich and her embarrassment of riches. Ours is a lock-up-and-leave loft, small but beautifully formed (like me). All we’d ask is that guests turn the lights out as they leave. I guess we’d have to hide the dressing-up box and battery-operated play things. Or maybe not.

 

 

Needham Place

Sometimes, this care-taking lark can be a tad more challenging. Take, for example, the menagerie owners in Hockwold cum Wilton (yes, that is a genuine place) who pretty much need a qualified zoo keeper to look after their duo of dairy goats (Simone and Ashia), a pack of terriers (Monty, Blossom, Scarlett and Sanya), a clutter of cats (Jarvis and KC), a brace of drakes (Flappy and Ballerina), a nest of guinea pigs (Hearty and Chubby), a clutch of  chickens (including randy roosters) and a small shoal of goldfish. Sounds a bit too much like work experience at Whipsnade for my liking and besides, I’d be terrified of killing something. Still, there are no shortage of goat-herders applying for the busman’s holiday. They’re fully booked.

Thanks to Roving Jay for the heads up on this one.

*From Turkey Street, Jack and Liam’s Bodrum Tales out soon.

Giant Squid at the Guildhall