The man who fell to earth

After weeks of British and Czech weather reports taunting me with temperatures well above average whilst Istanbul remained distinctly chilly, I can finally say that summer has arrived. It usually bounces between 24 and 31 degrees. Which suits me just fine.



It was on one of these 30 degree days last weekend that a group of us went to a remote beach for a BBQ. Although the Black Sea was ball shrinkingly cold (mine all but disappeared) and full of jelly fish, we made a brave attempt at swimming anyway.



We were just finishing off the last of our beers when some men dropped from the sky and came to introduce themselves. And I mean that quite literally. Indeed, it was raining men. They did have parachutes and engines attached to their backs but drop they did.



And that’s how I met my new friend Ali. A photographer by trade, who flies around the coast on his para motor, travels to far flung places, goes deep water diving, white water rafting and just about everything else a real man should do in my book. Oh yeah, he is a qualified pilot too. And quite cute.



So I was more than a little excited when he invited me out to dinner. We had a smashing time talking about 2 stroke engines, great photographers, art and politics. He turned out not to be married and, unlike most Turks, had reassuringly large hands. He introduced me to his friends who were also great and we had a right rum old time and even found we had some friends in common. However, Effes beer in the midday sun does skew your judgement a bit and I have to confess that I discovered not so much of a slight age gap, as a whole generation gap. Damn.



I tried the older man thing once before and, I have to say, very much regret frittering away most of my youth on old farts. Never again in my life will it be acceptable to date someone in their early 20’s. But I didn’t know that back then. Ahh youth is wasted on the young.



Anyway I hope to stay in contact. He really is a cool bloke. On the way home the taxi driver asked for sex. There was once a time when I would have jumped out the cab, but if you did that in Istanbul you’d never get anywhere. And then I got home and saw my first cockroach and screamed like a girl before nuking it with every chemical I could get my hands on. Haven’t seen any more before or since so assume I am not on a nest, but guess what I’ll be googling this evening? Always wondered why there were so many cans of half empty bug spray in the cupboards. I think I just increased my carbon footprint to a size 12.



Work is, as usual, unnerving. I was just getting into the swing of things when Martin, my old boss from cz and my current boss here, announced that they had found his Turkish replacement and that he was either moving departments or moving opcos. I have not met the lady who will be taking his place yet but rumour has it that she is one tough cookie. I have been helping a lot with retail communications, and have been adding value, I have to say. The only thing getting in my way of doing a cracking job is the woman who is supposed to be doing it herself. A dinosaur who doesn’t much like the idea of change and has a sleeve full of excuses as to why things don’t get done. But I realised that I quite like doing retail comms. I’m good at it.



Mum comes tomorrow. Unfortunately I do have to go in and work now and then but no matter. We will have a smashing time. Haven’t actually seen her for 18 months which is a total outrage. I’m sure she will love it here.