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madturkishcow 14th February 2006 09:50

Moving On Part 1
Moving On

Those of you who are 'au fait' wıth my complicated love life will know to whom I am refering.For those of you who do not know, I shall start at the beginning.

Due to large dollops of sticky brown stuff in my life, I decided that the only way I was going to 'move on' in my life as it were,was to distance myself completely from everything associated with the reason. I no longer found Hisarönü and the night life attractive and for various reasons was being blanked or ignored by friends. Fine, I was more than happy to get out of Taşyaka (which was an awful place to live and is not going to be discussed by me.) It had many bad memories for me and was seriously affecting my health. After a long chat with sprog, who had flown out to give his mother a 'slap' and get her 'back on the straight and narrow', We decided that a spot of house hunting would work wonders. Enlisting the ever willing Recep, I set out in search of my own piece of paradise.

Over a period of seven days,we scoured the lower parts of Taşyaka, Karagözler, Patlangiç, Karaçula and as far south as Zorba. A promising property was found on the outskirts of Karaçula but the owner was away in the mountains and could not be contacted. There were plenty of properties around which would have sufficed, but I knew exactly what I wanted and would not settle for anything less. The reasons being that I had so much brown stuff heaped on me during the last nine months, that I wanted to move somewhere ,where I could find peace,relaxation and learn to love myself again.

The week ended without a single property being found as suitable and I spent yet another week isolated and depressed in my concrete jungle. After days of waiting and reluctance to accept anything less than my goal, I decided to go house-hunting again. I could hear the 'oh please,why me? ' note in Recep's voice when I rang him to arrange his chauffeuring services, but like a real trooper he turned out and we sailed forth with the information from a friend of a friend of a friend(of course) that there was a property in Esenköy, which was at the present occupied but would be available four weeks later.

Feeling in good spirits we headed down the old Antalya road, the mountains not yet covered with snow laying on the horizon and Fethiye behind us. I have traveled the road many times, speeding by anything of interest. This day we cruised along and I was able to take in the geography, the colours, the smells,sights and sounds of a different lifestyle. From the car, I could see huge plastic greenhouses,small dwellings with smoke curling from the thatched ,or so it looked roofs,sheep,goats,tractors chugging around rocky fields,women bent double with sacks or wood on their backs, children playing in the dirt on the edge of the road and the numerous scrawny chicken. Here and there small mosques stretched their minuets towards paradise. Towering black granite mountains on one side and gentle deep green wooded curves added the backdrop.

With me, singing 'Oh yes I'm going to be a country girl again, with an old grey dog and a big black hen and rabbits in the pen' loudly I may add, we turned right onto a small track which emerged onto the main road,between a shop and a storage building. A few yards up this road was another right turn leading to more dwellings which rose up the hillside and a proud, majestic, blue domed large mosque. Passing this we came to a half finished one story building. Grey plaster walls,no windows but gaily painted blue security bars adorned all the openings. It stood, on what I can only describe as a car park and was surrounded by builders rubble, to which various contributors had been fly-tipping. Looking at Recep in horror I thought ' Aaaah Noooooo.' To my relief and Recep's amusement we drove past, stopping some 300 yards up the road on a slight hill. To the left as we parked, a tinkling stream ran down to join other silver ribbons crisscrossing roads and fields.

The house was nothing spectacular. Simply a traditional Turkish style house of two stories, raised off the ground on concrete legs. A Massey Ferguson tractor was parked under the house and a blue trailer laden with tomatoes, stood in the yard. My first impression was ' I don't think so'. Alas, common sense prevailed and I could very well be looking a 'gift horse' in the gob. A flight of steps ran up the outside of the house and the walls where painted a strange tobacco brown and white wide stripe. Rusting grey security bars covered the windows, edged the balcony and in keeping with the décor a metal front door, which had cracked glass held together or in place by brown security tape.

Our knock was answered by a young girl with green eyes,light brown skin and a smattering of freckles all over her nose. After explaining to her why we were there,she opened the door wide and ushered us into a hallway flooded with sunlight, which came from a french door at the far end. Her younger brother was sprawled on a carpet doing homework as she had, before we disturbed her. She made a hurried phone call to summon her father and we sat and waited for him to appear. I would like to say that those sunbeams flooding across the hall and dancing on the threadbare carpet sold it to me, but being female and practical I thought that 'hallway is going to be great for a party'.

Yes, I have been known to act strangely (shut up Gail!), to rely on my instincts and if you like, believe in mumbo-jumbo and fairies and so far (touch wood) it has never let me down. The house definitely had a 'feeling' or presence and I knew in a instant that I would be very happy there. The state of the house was a deciding factor in my choice. Looking around, most of the work needed was minor or cosmetic, although the Turkish loo had to go (which caused an argument with Recep, who obviously likes hovering precariously) and the whole bathroom re-tiled.

Some ten minutes after our arrival, a Turkish man with a huge shock of black gypsy curls and gold teeth to match cycled to a stop. Red faced, he shook hands and introduced himself as Yusuf. He was the owner of the bottom half of the house, his sister owning the top. The children were his two youngest. The land to the left of the house was his sisters, to the right his. If i took the house,then I would have complete access to the land and trees which were in it. Trying very hard not to look at him (I kept seeing David Essex belting out Stardust girls!)I gestured that we would like to have a look round the property properly and he gave us a guided tour.

From the front door, to the right was the kitchen. A huge fireplace stood in the center of the nearest wall, a rickety tiled worktop and single tap graced the far wall and that was all that was there. No hot plate,oven or any manner of a cooking appliance was there. After my initial urge to ask how the hell do you cook? Or where do you keep things cold, I nodded enthusiastically and edged towards the doorway. Calling me back, Yusuf placed a hand thrown jug in my hands and grinning like a rap singer (all those gold teeth, bet he is worth a bob or two!) said that his mother had made it. Thanking him, I placed the jug on the wide mantle peice of the fireplace, where it is still standing as I write this.

From the kitchen, back to the hallway and a sharp turn right and I collided with a hand basin. Thinking what a damn stupid place to put a sink, slap bang in the middle of the corridor to the loo, especially as we women know, you never know when you have to make a mad dash. Bypassing the offending white sink I stood behind Recep as Yusuf yanked open the door to the smallest room. From the door, you stepped straight in to the toilet bowl! Great fun, I would think and one I had no intention of trying out. Swinging left, was the bathroom door. A tiny door like something from Alice in Wonderland. Now I am vertically challenged and even I had to bend my head to step through.

What can I say? A rectangular room tiled in miss-matched and chipped tiles to my shoulder height with a single tap, although Yusuf did explain that he could put a shower head in free of charge. A nasty green bar of carbolic and something that passed as a face cloth completed the picture. I am aware readers, that your first thought is to run as fast as you can, but you have to look beyond this shabby,sad facade and see the beauty laying underneath. I could see that dank neglected room aglow as the sunlight bounced off white tiles and sparkling chrome fittings. A touch of blue to break up the wall and it would be fit for a cow.

Exiting the bathroom, a right turn bought us face to face with a washing machine! A tap stuck out from the bathroom wall and the machine was plumbed into it. A hole further down fed the hose back into the bathroom to empty. Well, gob smacked was perhaps the correct word. I was surprised to see that the machine was a Zannussi and fairly new and very disappointed, when informed that the machine would be moving with them.

The further I explored this house, the more I was becoming very attached and 'seeing things' in my minds eye. Turning right from the washing machine (it really was plumbed in,stuck out halfway across the hallway) we came to what is now my computer room. A dodgy looking beige\brown fitted carpet lay on the floor and a lovely white cupboard constructed from pvc security shutters filled the near wall. 'David Essex' then explained that the children found the house cold in winter and therefore a carpet had been laid on the tiles. Cold, it must have been colder than a penguins todger and we all know how they stick to the ice! Opening the cupboard, which had numerous doors I was taken aback to find just one wide wooden shelf inside. No hangers or a rail, just the shelf. Talking to Recep later, he informed me that the three children slept in the cupboard for warmth.

Returning to the hallway we walked through the french door and stood on the back balcony. Readers, that was the moment I was hooked. Wild horses would not have dragged me away from that view and the feeling of pleasure and contentment that overwhelmed me, clinched the matter. l wanted this house and would quite happily have signed on the dotted line there and then, regardless of what it would cost and how i would settle into country living.

On the near horizon stands the university at Karaçula. Two pink and white tower blocks placed diagonally, rim the top of a gentle hill. Alongside proudly flutters the Turkish Flag. Beyond this are the peaks of Çaliş and Fethiye. In the foreground there are houses staggered on gentle rolling hills,fields of green,brown,yellow or bare earth. Here and there is the odd tethered animal. What they are,I can't tell from this distance. This wonderful vista spread gracefully towards the end of my garden. To the left, soft green scrub and young trees hug the gentle swell of old man mountain. As we stood there in the gathering dusk,lights twinkled on up and down the valley.

Leaving this all behind we stepped into what was the main bedroom. A wooden floor with rather large holes in, was all this room contained. It was a fair size and a view across a field of olive trees to the mountain. I guessed that the holes were dry rot and thought of the cost of replacing the whole floor, but hey what the hell, it only needed doing once or twice during my lifetime. Nodding my approval, we moved on the last and biggest room.

The lounge,living or sitting room. The floor was pink tiled, the walls like every other room in the house, very badly white-washed. I would hazard a guess that 25 litres of white paint had been used for the whole house. At some time a stove had been lit and the ceiling was covered with black smoke stains. Strange marks dotted the walls and nails were driven everywhere. It was a mess, but easily enough to put in a reasonable condition. Yes, my mind was made up so now started the negotiations. Recep and I were ushered to the only furniture in the house (I kid you not) which was a simple Turkish sofa and one hard backed kitchen chair.

There was a small table in the children's room which they used for homework, a telephone in the living room placed on the floor and the washing machine. How a family of five survived in these conditions I do not know, but survive and thrive they did.

Small talk was exchanged, with Yusuf very interested in my reasons for wanting to move to his village. He was quite shocked to find an Englishwoman prepared to move into what I suppose he thought was an alien environment and a single one at that! The children practised their English on me and we were given glasses of fresh freezing cold spring water to drink, straight from the tap. That was when I realized how poor or hard-up they must be.

An agreement was reached over the price, various little jobs Yusuf was willing to complete and a date when they would vacate the premises. With a spit and a firm handshake I was now the proud new tenant of Bademlik mevkii. Yes, it means Almond Street or Road and already all the way up the main road, the shoots are beginning to appear on the trees. I can't wait for spring, when I shall be able to look upon clouds of fluffy pink and white blossom and breathe in the delicious scent of Almonds on the warm evening air. Readers I have moved on.

MKC 14.02.06

friar tuck 14th February 2006 10:07

Re: Moving On
I hope you find what you are looking for in your new home and that you will be happy and peaceful there.

sandpearse 14th February 2006 10:21

Re: Moving On
Sounds like you have found your little 'haven'. I enjoyed reading about your new home, and hope you find your peace here, in your new world.

madturkishcow 14th February 2006 10:29

Re: Moving On
Aww Thanxs FT :) and Sandpearce :)

I have settled in really well here even if it does get a liitle bit lonely and a little bit sad!
The villagers are a great bunch and have welcomed me with open arms (in a manner of speaking).I have been adopted by an eccentric old turkish woman who leaves all sorts on my doorstep,providing the dogs are not about.
I only have to look out my windows to know that I made the right choice.

mkc xxx

Gail 14th February 2006 14:36

Re: Moving On
Jen it sounds lovely, I think this time you have found what you have been looking for :) Happiness and health is so important, you now have them both, cherish them :)

Anymore on the "man" front :lol: not that I'm so nosey, I leave that to Lorraine and nosey Lynn :lol:

madturkishcow 14th February 2006 18:30

Re: Moving On
Heheee Gail,
Lots on the man front but the boss says I have to restrict you greedy lot! and only two postings a week.So let me see, maybe another month and you get some action!!!!

Duke 14th February 2006 21:50

Re: Moving On
Good Luck Jen .. New Horizons but remember the mistakes /errors behind you onwards and upwards hey?

madturkishcow 15th February 2006 01:34

Re: Moving On
Thank you for your good wishes Duke and Gail :)

Yes it is onwards and upwards and never look back. Thankfully, I have the consitution of an ox and the stubborness of a Bull, not to mention the gift of the gab (thank you wales!) and a hide so thick,house bricks just bounce! :crazy:.
Thank you Gail, I heard that!!! you were not going to mention my half welsh bum were you? if so I got in before you! :307bt:
I shall remember the mistakes and errors Duke but as someone once said.....
The Better a man or woman is, the more mistakes they will make, for the more things they will try. :)


friar tuck 15th February 2006 05:42

Re: Moving On
I can remember when I became first person singular some very good advice from a very good friend, the world is your oyster be careful you do not get indegestion ! I havent.

madturkishcow 27th February 2006 15:33

Re: Moving On
The next chapter is currently under constructıon! :lol:

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