When my sister in law asked us where we were going on holiday this year, she suddenly looked at us as if she had a really bad smell under her nose when I told her it was Turkey. She appeared to self- inflate a little and then sternly recommended that we immediately change our holiday booking to elsewhere in her eyes more suitable such as Benidorm.

My brother Bob and his wife Augustine’s latest hobby appears to be going for luxury breaks and holidays.  Augustine’s initial question was probably ‘one up person’s ship’ on her part as opposed to any genuine interest. It is no contest any way, as we can’t afford regular holidays. Largely down to Augustine, she is the main breadwinner and the person fearsomely wearing the trousers in their relationship.  They appear to have the financial means to take three or four holidays at regular intervals throughout the year. This by contrast, was to be our first holiday abroad for at least several years.

Despite the powerful, bad smell under the nose reaction, we had a great time and enjoyed it. I thought Turkey was great and loved it. There were considerably less tourists than on previous years and we took full advantage of this.

We stayed at a palm tree lined oasis on the edge of a dusty town. The oasis was an apartment style hotel, built around a lusciously, green garden with beautiful flowers, orange and palm trees and a swimming pool. We went self-catering, however most of the British guests, were all inclusive self-imposed prisoners who spent their whole holiday in and around the swimming pool. They never appeared to venture outside to explore the real Turkey outside. Regularly, at 7 am every morning, one British family, represented by a massively big bellied man, who looked like he was pregnant with morning sickness,  used to somehow, stealthily venture to the side of the pool, without vomiting, to reserve their chosen sun loungers by placing their garish bath towels upon them.  And then long into the night you could hear the sound of cackling laughter emanating from the bar area, where these self- imposed prisoners were to be found taking advantage of their all -inclusive drinks packages , getting drunk and telling each other rather silly lewd jokes.

All was beautifully quiet and serene in the mornings, when the only sound was the water gently lapping at the side of the oasis pool.  Except, that is until 10.10 am prompt each morning, when blasted out of a huge loud speaker system, blurted out an infantile “Good Morning” type song that sounded like was sung by a cheesy young American woman on the Walt Disney payroll.  This was our cue to escape the tourist trap and to go and explore the world outside. Not once did we eat or drink at the Hotel always preferring to do our own thing. Not only did we find better quality elsewhere it also saved us money.

Once outside, we went and explored the port of Side with its wonderful ancient Greek temples and Roman theatre and beaches.  We also did a number of out-tings.  The charming hotel receptionist, who warmed to us, as we appeared different from the other inmates, helped us escape one day when she took us to see a remarkably powerful and beautiful Waterfall inland from Side. All the visitors to the Waterfall were Turkish and there were no Brit tourists in sight. We then, as is customary in these parts, drank some freshly squeezed pomegranate juice that had a very bracing impact upon one’s mouth and digestive system.  We also ate some savoury style pancakes that were quite delicious. Our friend Esra, the receptionist, tried to negotiate a discount on our bill with the restaurant owners and when this failed, she announced in charming pigeon English that she would never, ever return there during her life time. This was accompanied by very solid emphatic gestures denoting that she clearly really meant it.

We did inadvertently bump into some Brits one day at the local supermarket when a rather loud and patronising woman, followed by some rather blotchy red- skinned stupid looking men, who seemingly had been out in and adversely affected by the mid-day sun.  The woman, although rather well advanced into middle-age and appearing quite orange skinned, adamantly demanded she be supplied with “Johnson’s Baby” lotion for herself, presumably to tone down the tough thick orange-peel-ness of her skin. She became louder and louder and facially more deep red- orange looking as she tried to make herself understood in loud megaphone English.  She was then unspeakably rude and patronising to the girl at the checkout, which was frankly quite embarrassing.

We used to make an effort to learn all the niceties in Turkish and to practice them on the staff at the shop which invariably resulted in them breaking out into big smiles.  As we travelled around on the local buses we found people to be very friendly, helpful and welcoming to their country. My attempts at speaking Turkish were clearly funny and it was obvious that the locals clearly have a good sense of humour about them.

Throughout the town were all sorts of businesses catering for the tourists. There were hundreds of shops, all the same, selling quality imitation replica football shirts and with the massive reduction of tourists they were slashing their prices.  There was an air of desperation around the sea side tavernas and restaurants with their many empty tables.  Down by the port there were some quiet, small family run hotels.  Further along the coast were some newly built hotels with large entrance lobbies adorned with huge sparkly chandeliers, giant plants and massive 1920’s style pillars and statues all obviously hollow and made out of fibre-glass.

Our favourite shop was one catering for the locals with colourful breathable clothes made from the local cotton. On the wall behind the till was posted a bank note and I asked if it were a fake one. They explained that is customary to pin up the first money taken in the shop as it is supposed to bring them good luck. We later observed that most shops do this.

One day we went on a brilliant rafting trip down a fast flowing river which was utterly fabulous.  We also went on a two day magical tour of Cappadocia which with its volcanic plugs, cave dwelling villages and underground towns was simply stunning.  My son Dan managed to take some wonderful photographs. We toured around on a small mini bus with two Russian families, a couple from Poland and a couple from Romania.  It was fun to meet them and to try to converse with them.

The Expo was a once in a life-time must place to visit. Right in the middle of it was a beautifully crafted tall modern tower , which you could speed up in a lift and then look out over the array of beautiful lakes and gardens.  Once back on the ground it was lovely to visit all the beautiful gardens from all over the world.  The Chinese garden was an amazing array of colours and sparkling waterfalls. Respective countries had sent over helpful representatives to chat with the public and answer questions.  One of our favorite areas was the Pakistan section where the staff were overwhelmingly friendly and helpful.  Proud of our British gardening heritage we eagerly went in search of the British Garden.  We eventually found it on a pathetic and very quiet backlot. No-one was there, no clamoring visitors and no representatives.  The garden, if you could call it that, looked very brown and uncared for.  There were a few miserly flowers and plants that appeared to be drooping and dying through lack of water. The un-luscious  lawn was a brown and balding disgrace. This garden had not been funded by the UK government and was in my view very symbolic of the  British attitude towards Turkey and Europe.

Back at Side in the evenings the tourists tended to swarm down to the restaurants by the port whilst we navigated against the flow up the hill to restaurants where the Turkish people ate in numbers, denoting good food and value for money. The food was straight forward and very tasty with lots of grills and always a delicious array of freshly made salads. There was also plenty of banter with the waiters.

We loved the country and Esera, the receptionist has offered to assist us find cheaper non touristy accommodation should we wish to return. Meanwhile she was planning to come to the UK at Christmas time when she had been invited to stay with a family in York which would no doubt have been a wonderful experience for her. However, prior to coming to the UK, as part of her entry requirement she had to accumulate several thousand pounds in her bank account to demonstrate she could afford to come. She didn’t manage to raise the funds. I’m glad the Turkish authorities did not do this to us as we would never have managed to visit their wonderful country.