During our travels around the world, even before we became ageing nomads in 2014, there have been many amusing moments and we'd like to share some of them with you.
There are far too many laughs, chuckles and smiles to remember them all, but here is just a sample.
Gokarna, South west India
We were staying a few nights in the town of Gokarna mainly to enjoy the spectacular Om Beach nearby.
When we turned on the shower the first day at about 5 p.m., there was no hot water. We telephoned Reception and was told, “So sorry. Hot water 7 o’clock."
At 6.55, we turned on the shower again. Only cold water! Five minutes later there was a knock on our bedroom door.
A young man with a big smile on his face and carrying a bucket of steaming hot water said,
“7 o’clock, Sir. Hot water."
Right on time!
Chowara, Kerala, India:
During our stay in Kerala, I had an Ayurvedic massage at our hotel. The masseur asked me, “What is your name?”
“David”, I replied
“Oh, that very good name", the masseur said.
“Why is David a good name?” I enquired.
"Because of my name”, he said.
“And what's your name?”, I asked.
“Harish”, he said!
Mmmm.
Pongwe Beach, Zanzibar
One day we were chatting to one
of the Receptionists at our hotel and asking what hours she worked and
did she have early morning shifts.
“Well”, she replied: “I have to get up at 6.30 every morning to let
the monkey out.”
(She had ‘adopted’ a young orphan monkey and was preparing him to be let
back out into the wild in a few months’ time.)
South Andaman (Andaman Islands, Indian territory in the Bay of Bengal)
We were travelling by ferry from South Andaman to Havelock Island (now known as Swaraj Dweep). The ferry tickets were delivered
to our hotel the previous evening by a travel agent. Both tickets were made out in the name of
“Behra”. Both listed as “Male”. One aged 32, the other 21. One ticket was for the 6 a.m. ferry, the
other for the 2 p.m. one. No problems there then!
(The travel agent explained the tickets were simply that – tickets - and any information on them was irrelevant. Well we did board the boat without any problem.)
Hurghada, Egypt
One evening after shopping and with several heavy bags, we hailed the first taxi we saw despite it was obviously not straight from the car showroom. We should have been concerned when he had to turn the key several times before it would start and had to use a large screwdriver to open the boot.
We began to drive up the hill towards our apartment when the car spluttered and coughed like an elderly, overweight, high-tar smoker. Until the engine died.
So we rolled backwards, ever downwards, to try again. More coughs, more
spluttering, exhaust fumes and the strong smell of overheated clutch and brakes
choking passers by. And then . . . the engine died again. Back rolling
down the hill in reverse, much too quickly in our opinion!
The hill:
It was obvious even to us that the vehicle was never going to make it but whatever you may say about Egyptian taxi drivers they cannot be faulted for their determination - or is it stubbornness? He would not be defeated until making three or four more attempts to conquer the slope, interrupted only by his confident words in English, "One minute, one minute!” Until at last he was defeated.
He made a final reverse roll down the hill and waved down a passing taxi driver. Between them the two drivers transferred our shopping bags from the boot of one car to the other. We also had two cases of 1.5 litre water bottles (24 bottles in total) on the back seat of the first taxi. These were simply placed unsecured on the roof rack of the replacement car, and off we went.
There were still a few coughs and splutters but Jack and Jill did eventually get up the hill with the pales of water! Good value, though. It would be difficult to experience such a white knuckle ride anywhere else in the world for less than UK£1.
The Maldives
We stayed on the tiny island of Bodufolhudhoo, only about 300 metres x 300 metres in area, with simple well-kept village houses and sandy 'streets'. There are no cars, just bicycles and several scooters. There are a few small grocery shops, a school, small pharmacy and one or two sparsely-stocked and occasionally-open souvenir/gift shops.
Oh, and a bakery which strangely only opens by request!
How on earth does that work?
Palolem, Goa
One day one of the waiters at a beach restaurant explained that the recent cool weather was due to heavy snow still falling just south of the Himalayas. Just to keep everything in perspective, that's probably 1,485 miles (2,400 kms) or more north of here and "cool" means a daytime average temperature of around 32° (night about 23°).
However, we were told not to panic. That's a relief!
Langkawi Island, Malaysia
Elaine (a.k.a. Dora the Explorer), discovered a stunning deserted beach by leaving the main road to continue down a narrow, rough track where we discovered a 'Robinson Crusoe' style stretch of sand.
One day the beach got busy, not with tourists, but with a family of hungry monkeys who tried to gate-crash our picnic lunch. One of them looked into our beach bag, took out two towels and a couple of plastic bags looking for a tasty morsel. Fortunately the food was in a strong, well-sealed cool bag so he gave up in disgust.
But not before the cheeky chappie got hold of a small draw-string bag containing spare contact lenses, comb, etc. - and the car & apartment keys! It was a stressful moment, particularly on a deserted beach miles from anywhere. We were reluctant to shout or wave our arms at him, worried he would run off through the trees with our possessions. So, we turned our back, completely ignoring him. It worked! He didn't try to open the bag just tore is apart, took the items out one by one, sniffed all of them, threw them unceremoniously onto the sand . . . . including the keys . . . . and off he went empty handed. Phew!
Before we travel over to Turkey for more laughs, here are a few photos which don't require an explanation but just speak for themselves:
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| Agonda Beach, South Goa , India |
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| Paralimni, Cyprus |
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Kapparis, Cyprus |
Selling Houses? Pizza Cake!
A friend and neighbour owned a simple pizza restaurant in the village - and a good one, too. (Although he once apologised for the late serving of our meals due to "a pizza exploding!")
He had an entrepreneurial spark in him and decided to branch out into estate agency as a second business. One day I met him on the local minibus and he asked me to come and look at the new sign above the restaurant advertising his new venture. It looked very professional with the name of the agency and a website address.
"What do you think?", he asked. "Very good", I replied, "But", I pointed out, "There's no telephone number".
"No" he said, "I don't want any time-wasters ringing up."
Mmm. Not a good business strategy in my view. Anyway, when I returned home, I thought I would look at his website.
The words "Site Under Construction" appeared on the screen!
No telephone number, no email address, no website? I had a feeling his estate agency would struggle to survive.
May be better to stick with pizzas than properties!
Special Delivery:
We were fortunate to make friends with the Commander of the local Jandarma unit, the military-style police force maintaining law & order in the villages.
One day, the Jandarma van pulled up outside our villa.
The Commander jumped out followed by his protection unit - two eagle-eyed officers, alert with rifles at the ready.
We weren't expecting him and opened the front door to welcome him in.
One of his officers remained at the front gate, the other half way up the stairs leading to our first floor apartment. You can't be too careful in this sleepy fishing village on a quiet Tuesday morning!
We exchanged pleasantries after which he handed us the bag he was carrying. "For you", he said.
We opened the bag cautiously to discover . . . . . two fresh melons. A kind gift from his family's farm and safely delivered with an armed escort.
More Melons:
Another friend in Turkey ran a farm just outside the village of Çiftlikköy where we lived. He grew fruit and vegetables and reared free-range hens. We often bought fresh eggs from him.
One morning he passed in his tractor and pulled up outside our villa for a chat. "Would you like some melons, picked this morning? he asked. "Of course", I said.
He took two from the dozens on the trailer, then retrieved a hessian sack from under the tractor seat which contained an ancient set of weighing scales - complete with various weights. No digital equipment for him!
He placed each melon on the scales taking care to precisely adjust the weights, presumably to work out the price. He then carefully repacked the scales and weight in the sack and put the melons in a bag which he handed to me.
"How much do I owe you?", I asked.
"Oh, you're friends. There's no charge to you."
Any idea why he spent so much time & care to weigh them? Me neither.
Clutch or Cluck? Another Jandarma Story.
I was taking a guest out for the day to visit Ephesus and other attractions in the Selçuk area. We were turning left at a roundabout heading towards the ancient site of Claros in quite a rural area when the car engine died. Not the best place to break down.
I got out of the car to go into a small grocery store at the side of the road and explain the problem. Fortunately, the owner spoke good English and made a quick phone call. Minutes later, and to my great surprise, the Jandarma arrived with three officers who pushed the car several hundred metres to the Ahmetbeyli police station, pictured below.
We were shown into the Commander's office and glasses of tea were soon served. The Commander made a phone call and five minutes later the breakdown truck arrived from a local garage.
It wasn't going to be a quick fix and the Commander had to leave us in his office while he went out, presumably on serious crime patrol in this peaceful farming area.
Just after he left, a civilian man arrived and placed a large cardboard box on the Commander's desk and off he went.
A few minutes later the box started to move as if there was something alive inside. The box wasn't sealed and after much fluttering and what sounded like pecking, the top flew open and . . . . . two excited hens jumped out and ran around the office and the whole building and were eventually "arrested" by several Jandarma officers in hot pursuit. Chicken Kebab for dinner, lads?
You don't see scenes like that on Line of Duty or Happy Valley!
Dangerous Driving?
Guests staying at our villa, often require a hire car during their holiday and we use a small local, rental company. Maybe not Hertz or Avis standard, but good personal service at competitive prices.
On one occasion they were fully booked but the owner said he would try and locate a vehicle for us.
He got back to us and said he was able to borrow a reliable car belonging to his friend, a police officer.
We picked the car up from the policeman's home just out of town and our guest was happy.
Everything was good - apart from one surprising feature of the vehicle. When our guest opened the glove compartment it not only contained the car manual and other documents but also . . . a police pistol!
Luckily, it wasn't loaded.
Or was it??
Hope you enjoyed our smiles across the miles.
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