As you know from the previous post, I’m currently in Turkey for work.  The day started at 4:00 this morning when a swarthy, robust employee at the hotel I was staying decided to barge in, flipping on all the lights in his haste.  Undisturbed (out of shock maybe?) I calmly raised up from the bed in nothing but my Dr Pepper t-shirt and said, “Can I help you?” while I thought to myself, “He doesn’t know what you’re saying.  You should show fear by screaming like a normal scared person or violently shake your finger at him with angry eyes so he’ll understand your irritation.”

Instead, I just smiled and he turned around and left.

An hour later, I received a phone call (after I had gone back to sleep) to say that the manager was sorry for the inconvenience.  So I’ve been up since 5:00 – ish.

We visited a rig yard where I was told I would see various farm animals and a pretty cool garden.  There’s a guy on staff who apparently grows their food.  I was also told that I would see a turkey.  Right then and there, I made a commitment to take a picture of a turkey in Turkey.  My driver didn’t understand my delight in this discovery, but he shared my passion just the same.  I told him I would name the turkey Harold and I would make him famous on my blog.

Sadly, we learned upon our arrival that Harold was last Thursday’s main menu item.

Then we were served the best cherries I’ve ever eaten.  No barn yard animals were harmed to create the makings of this mid-day snack.  The food has been extremely good.  I’ve only had to dig in to my ration of Pop-Tarts and Swedish Fish once.

I’m about to go have drinks on the veranda before dinner seaside.  It’s a tough life here in Turkey.

Particularly for Harold.