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Writer's pictureLana Abu Ayyash

The name's Bond!



Come on, It does look like something out of a James Bond movie … not the new ones with Daniel – hotter than the Sun – Craig, but dorky ones with Roger Moore or Timothy Dalton.


J is a friend, she is working on a boat tour project, to help her out I offered to do the marketing copy, as in writing material ..etc



J (WhatsApp): we will be going on a 2-hour boat trip tomorrow to take some videos, would it be possible if you join, to get a better feel of the project


Me (trying to sound composed instead of excited) sure, what time?


J: Late afternoon



Life in the furnace: probably up until the beginning of October the background and dominant theme for anything/ everything I write is HELL! The hottest summer/ days/ experience/ life of my life. It is heat beyond my worst nightmares. And don’t let the tan fool you, for it is no tan, it is me scorched and baked. And this is no healthy glow either, it’s my body dripping!



I get a WhatsApp msg from J just as I enter the house coming from gym that she is on her way to pick me up (it is 12:00 as in noon), I replied with “I need 30 minutes”. As is my habit I go straight to the fridge and down my meal, i need to shower. Mouth still full the doorbell rings, it is J and she looks weird, something fishy is going on I think.


J: the car is packed full, Saed brought Bushra and his two Ablas, Lana please, let’s stay calm ok?


Although warned I gasp as I see the cramped car, his Abla bir and Abla iki are pretty big women and J is a really big girl, so the 3 of them barely fit in the rear, now Bushra – whom relationship to Saed is questionable, something between brother/ sister and friends with benefits – was in the passenger seat. Did I mention it was 40+ degrees, and the car has no AirCon (does anything in Turkey)


I look at J’s pleading eyes, swallow my anger, and squeeze myself next to Bushra, who made no secret of her discomfort.


Because no one speaks a word of English I ask J what’s going on. Turns out they are all coming for the ride, just like that, no warning. Saed is the photographer, he was supposed to breakfast at J’s place to discuss details, but he showed up with his two older sisters and gf/ sister. I asked J if he gave her heads-up? Nope, not a word, needless to say she had to feed them the whole kitchen.


How’s that to completely mutilate my very first sailing boat experience





A thing of beauty I say to myself when we arrive at the boat, we get in and are met by 6 more people including 2 kids and I kid you not, they speak French, as in ONLY French. Which leaves the Captain who speaks T and F, but not E.





I leave the foreigners (why should I always be the foreign one) and head to the fore, no one is gonna follow me here!





And that gents (basically all readers of my blog are male) how this video saw the light of day. The dude in orange is Saed. I am in the trainers I slept and went to the gym in (laundry problems) heedless to him taking a video of me. Only if he told me, I would have maybe pouted my lips, stood sideways and perked my butt, ya know things people do to look authentic on camera.







Do you still remember my forlorn road trip, because I kinda forgot, let’s get back to that:


Date: July 1st/ 2023


The tiny guesthouse was beautiful, not as in fancy or well decorated, but as in authentic and real. It was also old, rusty and shabby, and if I can get over its lack of cleanliness and inadequacy as a living space it is just the perfect little writing haven.





And the dogs, anything good in my life must have some sort of a four-legged animal, and since wolves and tigers kinda don’t roam around that much, dogs are the next best thing ….. Na, dogs are the BEST thing!





A big advantage of being in Çamlık is the train station, it is also not isolated (whether a good thing or not depends on you) for there is a small grocer, a butcher, and a few traditional food joints … and there ladies and gentleman I had the most expensive meal in Turkey so far!

Ok, I cannot claim I had that many dining experiences in Turkey but I treated myself a few times to some fancy spots, yet none cost as much as





Location: on the road, at the traffic light. Space: two dirty tables. Environment: 1000000000000000000000000 fly that not even DDT could kill. Silverware: plastic fork. Menu: dishes, portions, and prices are whatever the chef decides. The chef: the owner who takes smoking breaks and does not wash his hands afterwards. Hygiene: what hygiene?. Taste: passable.





That of course would have not been an issue, I mean it’ll be dumb to expect luxury yet I paid the price of top notch luxury for THAT.


I ordered 2 portions of Kofta and Sujuk with the intention of keeping half for tomorrow, saving myself the perils of trying to cook in a non - functional kitchen. The 2 portions were a joke, the meal was practically bread garnished with some meat … I am a foreigner, and foreigners are dumb and cannot tell the difference. But I did not want to argue.


Done with my two loaves of bread I ordered tea which came not with the chef’s compliments but with the chef himself.


Chef lights up a cigarette, and starts chatting, asking me all sorts of questions. a nice dude I think to myself. Another man sitting on my table now also follows up the convo.


Time to leave I ask chef for the bill … silence! I waited for his reply but he gave none, got up and disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back, I ask for the bill again … another silence. The dude then starts pacing the place, lost in thought. Guy sitting at my table was now the one who asked for “my bill”.



Here is what was happening: this man was scheming, thinking about how to best take advantage of the situation, how to rip me off smoothly and without trouble. The guy must be so dumb to be this outrageously obvious.


Then he spits it out. Both shocked and disgusted, I decide again not to argue (I am just sick of this nonsense), so I pay and leave. I would later give the leftovers to the dogs, I could not get myself to eat food this man, that energy has touched.





For a quiet village, the people of Çamlık were extremely lively, and in my short stay I got to interact, talk and engage. I was also too happy with my quiet retreat, the nights were peaceful and early mornings were cool and delightful, and as has been my blessing throughout this journey – up till now, wherever I may be balcony, garden, mountain or sea, I witness the sunrise of each and every day.


From Çamlık I take the train to Selçuk and from there I take the bus to Efes. And like a good girl I pay 700 tl as an entry fee. I did not know I could buy a 60 tl museum pass – with my Turkish ID. I was told nothing as the teller was busy talking about my muscles (while everyone waited). I step in and immediately greeted by a silver kitten who not only steals and melts my heart but makes me completely forget the 700 tl I just paid. I sit with that tiny naughty thing on my lap for probably 30 minutes, I wish I can take her back home with me.




Efes took my breath away! I have always been a history geek, I used to ask my mom to take me to see the ruins when I was 7, I marked all the ancient cities I want to visit when I was 12, and my first visit to Istanbul was for pure historical reasons. I spent a week in which I would visit the Museum of Archaeology DAILY (always remember, I am not just super attractive and the fittest lady anyone can ever meet, I am a nerd and super smart) so Efes took me back, and I plunged in full force.


Standing under the D sign waiting for the bus I had this weird feeling I was at the wrong place and wrong time. Turns out not only I had the time wrong but I was standing in the wrong spot, how did I know? Because I saw the bus strutting far far away. Even if I run there is no way I can catch it. I need a miracle, next bus won’t be until another hour.


And just like a vision, a man gets off the bus, he is kinda far to recognize his face but I see him waving at me, I don’t hesitate or question if maybe he is saying hi to someone in the vicinity, I run with all my might and speed. The dude cracks up and starts mimicking a bicep curl – I am not making this up. Victorious I reach the bus as if it was the marathon finishing line. Inside everyone is smiling with extreme amusement, if this was a Hollywood movie it would be the moment when one dude starts clapping and then everyone follows suit.


Next stop: Şirince (where I left a piece of my heart)


To be continued ....




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