A-a-a-a-a-a-h Kalkan!

[Chris_S]

Day 6 – And nothing really happened…

After all the Kalkan ‘must do this, must do that’ and trying to do it early, thus enabling the chill-out to progress uninterrupted, this was a day of full-blown chill-out.

As such, what can you say apart from 36C, 43% humidity (as in the Weather Station at Yesilkoy Sokak – who’s is it?) and time to crack on with the e-books on the Kindle. Having got the latest episode of the Clifton Chronicles out of the way, and now having to wait a year to satisfy the usual cliff-hanger (you know it’s going to be fine, just like Saturday Morning Pictures, when you see the car go off a cliff in flames one week, only to find the hero leapt from the vehicle at the last moment, even though they’d been unconscious 0.001 seconds before!). Now time to get started on Jack Reacher, then!  The real(ish) one that is not the diminutive one in the film.

As we hadn’t been for a couple of days, Chillies for Lunch, and get the inside story on Mr Happy and family (apparently fell asleep driving back from Fethiye after work – rolled the car), and putting away the requisite Pide, Salad and Dry White, time to

Lie back and Recover.

This time by the pool, until later, when we are

Disrupted by the traditional send-off at the hotel as people leave – hugs, handshakes and emotional tears from some – you have to leave in the small hours of the night (well, any hours of the night, if truth be told) to avoid it, should you wish.  Fellow guests despatched back to Albion, we prepare for our meal at Moonstone.  Never been before, but five people have told us to go, so it seems churlish to ignore it – they may well be right!

So how do I approach Moonstone?  Do I do it Michael Winner Style, Tom Parker Bowles or one of the regular ‘turn up for a few free meals on TV’ Masterchef critics?

You Judge:

Moonstone sits on top of Utopia.  I confess it’s one we’ve traditionally kept going past in previous years, with a ‘previous booking’ elsewhere.  It just didn’t appeal.
With the recommendations though, we braved the usual infinite number of steps to the roof, with the advantage that, here, they are at least consistent in rise, and are straight, so no hairpins, landings or anything.  Some assistance was gratefully received by the less mobile which helped the confident passage to the top, where we are greeted by the proprietor, Mandy.  It’s (apparently) the second year for Moonstone, I obviously fell prey to the previously mentioned judgement last year, and we have a nice table on the edge with the Utopia and Moonlight bars below.  There are about a dozen other guests tonight.  Cynically, I observe that they get their wallpaper music for free (from Moonlight), and order.

The menu is professional and heavy, and the choices range from the old favourites to some ‘that sounds interesting’ in order to tempt you into experimentation, or next time.

We start with Moonstone Prawns on a bed of Salsa (cold), and Prawns and Mushrooms (hot).  My partner found the salsa a shade strong for her palate but this was a personal thing, and nothing to say was wrong, wishing she’d chosen my dish, some of which she had anyway.  The Prawns and Mushrooms were very good, being generous with the two named ingredients and a good balance on the peppers, onions and spices to make it different to the many dishes containing similar ingredients.

Main courses were Ottoman Meatballs and Lamb Kavurma.  She said the Meatballs were very good and would have them again.  My Lamb Kavurma was also as good as I’ve had, and I realised it doesn’t seem to appear on menus as much as it did a decade ago.  No doubt I’ll be looking on the dishes of 2005 like we do the dishes of the 1970s now?  The Kavurma came with chips kept warm on the flame, while a mixed salad and rice were resident in small accompanying dishes, for both of us.  Perhaps the Meatballs could have benefitted from the chips as well, but then again, you can overdo the chips sometimes.

Lemon cheesecake ended the meal, with two spoons.  I don’t think you would describe this a cheesecake in the precise sense that perhaps Mary Berry would recognise, but it was light, tasty and, when shared, just enough.

In total, would we go again?  Yes!  Without doubt, I would put this as worth trying, and then you can make your own judgement (these things are so personal!).  Don’t be put off by the location, or the greeter – you probably won’t be disappointed, by the food or the price.  I would like to see it survive in preference to one or two other unnamed establishments in town!

[Some of you may remember a few posts on EK and KTLN in the spring looking for a season rental – that was Mandy].

At least it’s a flat walk to the taksi rank to get back to the hotel, where the days lethargy gallops up on us and beats us round the head.  We succumb after a single drink, ready for the next exciting instalment ….. ZZZZZ

[keith]

Sounds as though you are enjoying a thoroughly relaxing first few days. I find that we always end up trying at least one new restaurant on each visit and, as you say, it really does come down to personal taste. Keep up the good work.

[kalkan4eva]

Really enjoying your blog, Chris_S - they are certainly descriptive.
We also went to Moonstone this year - first for us too. Although we didn't go on recommendation...quite conversely we went BECAUSE of the greeter. We passed him most evenings and headed into Moonlight and he did his best to divert us up those stairs. However he was always polite and looked a bit crestfallen when we told him we were eating elsewhere. After almost three weeks of "eating elsewhere" we told him "tonight's the night" (apologies to Rod Stewart). Really enjoyed our meal and our shared desert was an ice cream cocktail which perhaps I had more of than BH (just a smidge) Pretty sure it was Bluestone Special?
Anyway, its very much under the radar this little place - hope it goes from strength to strength.
Looking forward to tomorrow's instalment

[Chris_S]

Day 7 – More new places, more old places

Morning spent in the

Lie down and Recover

posture, as things warm up, drinks are consumed, books are read, drinks are consumed, the news updated and drinks are consumed before we venture forth for lunch, to consume, among other things, drinks.  Hydration is important.

Which, as Jook is still poised ready for action to propel us into the great unknown, on expeditions Bear Grylls would reconsider and abandon, is up the Kalamar Road to Yelken Bistro.

Regular readers may remember our good friend Antler visiting this on his visit, and as he’s rarely wrong (or is that never?) we just have to check it out for lunch.

It’s nice!  Cheeseburgers and dry white fitted the bill, and are what they are reputed to be, enhanced by the good service, nice surroundings, a heavyweight menu and better than some similar establishments’ view.  The Kalamar road on the doorstep doesn’t detract, after all, it’s not the M25 (or M3/M6/M60/M90 depending on where you live).  I can see another lunch on the horizon there, if time permits.  Recommended.

Then back to the pool to

Lie down and recover.

This evening, it’s Mussakka, in it’s new location (could we call this a pop-up?), with some irony here.

The New Mussakka (which is beginning to sound like a Jamie Oliver recipe) was busy.  And some.  We had reserved a table, which came out to be a ‘good decision’.  Mind you we tend not to turn up on spec for meals anyway – having made a decision, we tend to stick to the plan – and there were what seemed to be between 10-20 people waiting for tables.  Absolutely perfectly, out reserved table was waiting for us, a party of a dozen or so (big ‘or so’) were obviously celebrating something (Birthday?) given away by the Mussakka balloons on the chairs.

Decisions, decisions – this came down to Sea Bream fish cakes (shared, just for a change…) for starter; Sea Bass with Shrimps and Lamb Chops fulfilled the Main portion of the meal.  All I can say is the fish cakes were excellent, the Sea Bass was described as the nicest Sea Bass fillets they’d had, and my Lamb chops were cooked to perfection, moist, just pink and tasty.  The shared dessert was a Strawberry Borek which was just right to finish.

Oh, it was a birthday, as evidenced by the fireworks, music and cake.

So far this year, if Carlsberg were to do restaurants, it would be here.

The irony, well, you may remember Husseyin at Samphire, well, his two sons work at Mussakka, and if you know Husseyin by sight, you would know who his sons were.  No doubtful paternity there!  The irony is, of course, that Husseyin used to have Pisces next door to where Mussakka is now…

I would prefer to skip over the next bit as my wallet is suffering from the effects of a visit to Infinity – I may well have to offer myself to the workhouse on my return to the UK!

This was softened by some heavy duty imbibing at Merkez where we don’t count the BSG bags leaving the shop, but wonder at the ability of one young woman to negotiate the hill, not just in an extremely short skirt, but vertiginous 3 inch heels.  The impetuosity of youth!

Thence the taxi back, via the taxi rank which resembles Fred Karno’s Circus, in typical Turkish/Kalkan fashion.  Nobody knew who was next in the queue, and that was the taxis and the customers.  Full credit to the couple who were offered a cab, and pointed out that we were in front of them.  If you’re reading this, thank you – you are a true gent!!!

A swift nightcap (or two) at the hotel bar – Hydration is important – and we retire to prepare for another day in Paradise.

[suzyq1]

Hi Chris_S , Fab reports. Have just spent a very pleasant 20 minutes or so reading all about your first week. To try and really absorb myself in the Kalkan atmosphere I've been sipping a glass of wine whilst reading, but with heavy showers and sounding and feeling like my conservatory is going to take off in the  strong winds  all I can say is "wish I was there!"

[Kalkan regular]

Husseyin is closely related to Memet at Mussakka and the old Pisces is actually the far half of Mussakka. That's why his sons work there.

We love Mussakka and Pisces used to be our favourite place to eat fish. Husseyin is such a gentleman.

[Charlie]

Huseiyn and Mehmet are brothers.  One of Huseiyn's sons worked with him in Picses.
Is Huseiyn still in Sampfire with Sedat?

[Babs]

Your posts certainly brighten up a very miserable, windy and wet morning Chris.......I'm not in the slightest bit jealous! 

[Chris_S]

Husseyin is at Samphire - see earlier report!

I did know they were brothers, but I like to give you something to talk about

[Chris_S]

Day 8 – Low Cloud over Mount Doom

One of those days when you look out of the window, and wonder where you are.  Can’t be Kalkan – no blue sky.  Clouds.

No chance of seeing the flag on the mountain, in fact you can’t see the top at all, but we've seen it before, it just depends on fate whether it rains or not.

Optimistically, we settle down and practice the

Lie Down and Recover

position in readiness for meteorological improvements, and find that it’s very tolerable and concentrate on getting on with the books  Jack Reacher now done for till next year, maybe some Frederick Forsyth?

As Jook is idle at the moment, and we haven’t used it as much as planned, we decide to escape the pseudo English summer, and dash off to Adem’s for lunch.  Where we have a boringly predictable Menemem and chips – Diet chips of course, the ones that help you lose weight(!) – The daughters are back at school, so the staffing levels are down.  This means either less lounging for Adem while they used to serve tables or rushing around a bit more.  Adem chooses the latter.  At least the weather is better down there, away from the mountain, and it’s very nice with the odd fluffy white thing in the sky.  The Americans on an adjacent table seem to dawdle even more than us.  Maybe they have farther to go?

Just shows that you don’t have to go far to escape a micro-climate.

Back at the Hotel, the driving over, one of us can now have a drink

Rehydration is Important

And we

Lie down and Recover

Until another departure of guests with the hand wringing hugs, but less tears – this mob’s made of sterner stuff!  Promises are made to read this blog/account (you know who you are – say something!), and we prepare for our evening.  This is Smyrna, a first visit, there’s been some positive comments on EK, time to find out for ourselves.

At least the stairs aren't overly arduous!  Nice table on the edge, bit of a breeze, humidity down a bit and turning into just comfortable.  Tables nicely spaced – not bunched together so you can listen into adjacent conversations, but close enough to get between for serving without absurdly reaching over customers.

Imam Bayıldı for me, which I find slightly irresistible, Rami asks whether I’m vegetarian?  No – I just like it!  (Rami explodes in laughter.)  It’s also a bit like Italian Pasta Sauces, every Turkish Mother has her recipe, which of course, is the best and original!  I also find it’s a pretty good guide of what to expect later.  In fact it’s nice – not a spicy as some, but worth an honourable mention.  It goes without saying that I was not permitted to eat the whole thing.  Some people’s assistance with dieting is remarkable!

Meat Kavurma and Stuffed Beef for Mains – thus proving I am not a vegetarian!  (More explosive laughter from Rami.) A true omnivore, in fact.  After saying Kavurma’s don’t appear on menus as much – there’s another one.  Larger dices of meat here, which was commented on and made it more wholesome..  The Stuffed Beef?  This is in a Roquefort sauce and when I’d finished I’m not sure what was more stuffed.  It was very nice and the sort of thing I would recommend if you wanted a change from the more repetitious items on menus in Kalkan.  Point of Note:  many, if not most of the dishes at Smyrna come with Rice only (the Stuffed Beef came with mash), this is not my favourite vegetable accompaniment, being almost of the ‘rice belongs in a pudding’ mentality.  Rice does work sometimes (Rice does wok sometimes?), but not with everything,  If rice is not your thing, you may have issues.

Feeling, as mentioned, stuffed, we foolishly decide to explore the dessert menu.  Purely in the interests of you, the reader, you understand, to report back the full picture.

Crème Caramel looked to fit the bill, light and manageable.

Wrong!

I know what you’re thinking – inverted cup shaped dome in the middle of a dessert plate, with the caramel running down the sides?  Well that was at one end of a foot long plate with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream, sliced banana, two slices of orange, and sliced apple, with caramel sauce trickled over the whole.  One time we really SHOULD have done the ‘one dessert, two spoons’ thing.

It was excellent, and your researchers can proudly say that they completed the task and did not need to be winched down from the roof.  Though the caffeine from the coffee may well have softened the impact somewhat.

Worth visiting, but you have been warned!  Oh, and the street light over your head turning itself on and off all evening is bloody annoying!

While on the subject of annoying, does anyone else think that the Hotel Pirat illuminated name is also annoying – with the 256 different ways of turning the individual letters on and off as if it was done on a 1978 Commodore VIC20 or 64?  Maybe it was just programmed by a 12 year old on their Raspberry Pi as a school project and thought it was ‘cool’! (or whatever passes for ‘cool’ in Turkish).

Back via Infinity to collect the bankruptcy inducing purchase of the night before; with a few gratuitous glasses of wine and the expected exhortations to use the proceeds of Brinksmat on some of the stuff similar to the Hatton Garden Job as a sales exercise.  Not really expecting to sell, this was really a softening up job for next year…

The little yellow vehicles took on the wide loads with impunity and returned us to the hotel to imbibe a few drinks before retiring at a reasonable 1am.  Thus a degree of gastronomic comfort had returned without the resort of Messrs Alka and Seltzer.  Not before flashing off the purchase to the other guests of course.  The drinks are essential to avoid shock, and, of course

Hydration is important

Now, dear, about that TAG-Heuer Carrera Calibre 1887 they've got in the jeweller’s……

[janeb]

Loving your reports. You're having my sort of holiday. 

[RosiB]

Great report, Chrie1 You are most definitely NOT a lightweight!!

[RosiB]

Sorry - should have read "Chris_S!"

[Chris_S]

Day 9 – An Everyday Tale of Country Folk – just not from here…

As has been previously indicated, dawn doesn’t really come into things unless under duress.  The honourable exception was hot air ballooning in Tanzania – but that’s another story.

SO, it was a tardy breakfast, a tardy

Lie Down and Recover

practice session, with Kindles in full swing, and much miscellaneous gossip.  The new arrivals are making their presence felt.  As these are basically the same people every year, you start to notice a pattern.

Last week it sometimes felt as if you were intruding into the Palace of Holyrood, especially when the two teams were either side of you (in the bar) were discussing whatever in their usual Celtic fashion.  Totally alien to anyone south of Hadrian’s Wall, with more strange words than a teenager’s cryptic txtspk.  The only saving grace was that Sturgeon woman wasn’t there.  Or the other one, Salmond.  God is on your side, sometimes.

This week it seems to be the turn of the PLF.  Not Palestine Liberation Front, but the Profoundly Lancashire Faction.  Nothing south of Chester seems to get mentioned, and the Eastern boundary seems to be the hilly bit to that other county, but that’s vague.  Oh! What’s it called?  Anyway the Western Boundary is the Irish Sea, and the Northern bit, probably the Lakes, or somewhere such like.

Fascinating discussions, which if reported here would be as alien to most of you as they are to me, though I’ve actually heard of some of the places, though never been to them.  The descriptions and comments though are straight out of satire, with some totally non-politically correct observations thrown in.  I sometimes wonder if Richard Littlejohn would find material here, and never dare to print it!

As Jook goes back tomorrow, it’s Yelken Bistro again, for the Cheeseburger.  I could get addicted here, though I suspect the common sense would kick in eventually if I stayed here for too long!  Our friend Jo spots us here, Zilli seems to remember us (though she has a massive sulk on for some reason, just to prove dogs can sulk), and we finalise the plans for the morrow.  (No, I didn’t forget you, Colin, I couldn’t wend you into the narrative – but I have now, haven’t I?)  For what that is, you’ll just have to hum the Dick Barton theme , and wait …

And back to the pool to

Lie Down and Recover

(I’m wondering if I should flog some tee-shirts with that on, in the style of ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’)

This doesn’t last long as we have to stroll down Bougainvillea Boulevard before too long, in order to see Yusuf (Wella).  I note, belatedly, the Olive trees have a good crop again this year, and I was once told they only crop on alternate years.  Now who is right there, or am I observing the ones that didn’t crop last year?

At least Wella creates the opportunity to have an Efes:

Hydration is important

and a chat to Husseyin opposite, before those little yellow things near Pirat (irritating lights fortunately inoperative in the day) back to the hotel.

Marina for a meal – prime seat with a bit of a breeze, and a chance to watch, wonder and stare incredulously at people, their behaviour and attire.  This must be a prime spot for a webcam.  TC, are you reading?

Calamari for a starter – this is a pre-emptive share for a change, not an ‘I’ll just have a bit’ from the opposite side of the table after ordering.  This turns out to be a) a wise choice; and b) pretty good Calamari.  The former because the portion could well damage your appetite, and the latter because it’s in second place behind the best Calamari we’ve ever had (and trust me – we’ve had some Calamari!).  The best was at the Diana Restaurant in Zygi, Southern Cyprus.  Consistently.  With Diet Chips. Now you know.

Sea Bass was to follow, very nice, nothing to fault it; and Steak with Porcini Mushrooms also very nice – cooked properly (within limits), though I’m not totally convinced the mushrooms were porcini.  The Red wine sauce was OK, though, I prefer my own personal one, which follows Michel Roux Jr’s advice/recipe.

Name Dropping, Moi?

Crème Brulèe to finish which was just a shade too custardy, but completed the meal satisfactorily.

Hand to Hand fighting now at the Pirat taxi rank (I jest) for one of those little yellow things to move us back to the hotel bar.  This for the requisite beverages for the night, because

Hydration is Important

and somnambulism sets in around 1245am.  Yawn.

Cue: Dick Barton Theme…

[Chris_S]

Day 10 – England Expects that every man shall do his duty, sort of…

(Dick Barton Theme fades, to an anti-climax!)

Early breakfast.  I say early, which means 45 minutes early.  Still well after Antler get-up time, but before the more lethargic or soporific Kalkan visitor.

We are booked on another boat trip, this time on the Therapy Boat, and it’s departing at 0930.  Regular mariners will realise that this is a bit before the standard departure of 10am, whether to get more in the day, or pinch the best spots ahead of the others is difficult to determine.  We are lucky in that the other guests, totalling 11 are embarked on time and we can leave the remainder of the flotilla in our wake.  Take That, you Puny little Armada!  (said like John Cleese on the battlements in ‘Holy Grail’ )

Jo (see yesterday) has arranged this with friends, etc., so most of the day is convivial chat and backchat which need not bother you, dear reader.  It flows more or less uninterrupted, except for those occasions when the passengers re-enact the Titanic sinking, or one of the North Atlantic Convoys in 1942.  Except the water’s a lot warmer this time.  As I’m one of those people that can’t see the fascination in intruding into a fish’s home and splashing around (how would you like it if a fish came into your home and started flapping around?) , I stay on the dry bit, and do my bit for global warming by absorbing some of that harmful UV.

This is repeated at Mouse (count the goats – are they asleep on their feet, as they don’t seem to move) and several times around the standard route, interspersed with the usual force feeding of delicious comestibles, fluids and things.  It’s the threat of the beatings and potential keelhauling if we don’t eat most of this food that everyone reluctantly and discreetly nibbles away at the offerings, in order not to offend.

If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.

At one point, the Captain suddenly takes a running leap over the side into the wild tumultuous ocean.  I wonder if there is a list, causing the Captain to abandon ship without saying anything, reminiscent of the Costa Concordia.  The only list I can determine is the do’s and don’ts on the bulkhead.  I decide that all is still well and concentrate on Hydration.  It is Important.

As it’s a rather warm day with the humidity up around 66%, we’re rather glad we’re out here on the briny, living up to the arduous British Naval Heroes who endured insufferable conditions in almost as bad circumstances as us.  I’m thinking of Raleigh, Drake, Nelson, Hood and Richard Branson.

(For an abridged description of a similar trip, see Day 3)

Being first away, doesn’t mean first back, but some others are moored up, but Therapy Boats Pitch is a vacant as you can get.  No boats either side for at least 50 metres (call it yards if you’re over 35), which makes reversing simpler than squeezing between other vessels.  In fact, I expect the female blonde driver beloved of stand-up comedians could probably reverse the vessel in without incident.  I have to confess, I’ve never actually met a stereotypical blonde driver.  This is totally true, whether or not my wife reads this or not!

After all the tribulations, floggings, and plank-walking, us mutinous dogs make our way to a local hostelry for refreshments, because

Hydration is Important

and secrete ourselves (!) away in Fener for an eclectic collection of beverages to complete the voyage.  Checking the bottom of our glasses to ensure there is no shilling lurking there, we avoid the perils of the Press Gangs and return to our hovels to fight another day.

As usual, you find that doing absolutely s*d-all for the day and with an energy input/output balance beyond any measurable recognition, we decide that we, again, can’t really be bothered by visually inspecting Bougainvillea Boulevard by torchlight, and opt for Moussaka and Lamb Chops at the hotel.  Down by the bar.  Anyone who has identified this location will realise that this is nicer than the decking.  ‘Nuff said.  Rating? More than good enough, better than some I‘ve had in town, and a small return to them for their hospitality.

An early night, midnight, is called for after the perils of the open ocean and patrolling the Turkish approaches on behalf of the EU.

No animals were harmed or refugees were spotted in the production of this report.

[BarbH]

Enjoying the reports. Thanks for taking the time.

Yes those lamb chops are delicious and yes  we prefer the bar area to "the decking" Only wish we was out there at the moment.

Enjoy the rest of your holiday,

BarbH

[Chris_S]

Day 11 – Return to Mount Doom

After the culinary and liquid excesses of yesterday, we find ourselves relatively alert and ready to go, and take the start of the day in unexciting, boring and set the wheels in motion to have nothing whatsoever to write about.

Distrurbed only by a 10am departure (see: hugs, kisses, tears on previous departures), the Kindles are subconsciously calling via the invisible Bluetooth system that they seem to possess.  That together with the absurd meteorological conditions of 30C and 70% humidity this wonderful morning, we debate whether this is the conditions for the spinners, or whether the humidity will encourage some swing.  As the nearest cricket pitch is in Corfu, this is a moot point and lasts about 12 seconds before we just look up at the cloud capped mountains, remind ourselves that this isn’t Mordor, and pray that rain doesn’t stop play.

Which, by the time we get to lunch, and noting the cloud cover is building, we do the daylight olive-counting check on Bougainville Boulevard and dine á la Chillies.  Where the Pide and salad is just sufficient after the previous days excesses.  Still looking at the cloud topped mountain, feeling the high humidity, and wondering if we’ll get to departure in 4 days time without any rain, we chat about Mr Happy’s replacement/stand-in/alter-ego.  Seems he’s a qualified teacher, but with 2300 qualified teachers available, and only 300 places to be filled, there’s no job.  Sounds like the ‘What do you say to someone with a Masters degree in Advanced Mathematics’ joke.  (Answer: ‘Two Big Macs and fries, please’).

Afternoon’s a lazy day doing the

Lie down and Recover

method of holiday participation, distracted by pleas of help to get a market purchased pair of Dre headphones (that’s what they were labelled) to Bluetooth pair to a smartphone.  Easy-Peasy.  Regardless of the instructions written by a dyslexic Chinese 7 year old, and translated by Google translate before final corruption by a back street printer in a suburb of Shanghai.  That’s just to get the promise of a drink later!

Grateful that the smartphone in question didn’t have any logos of half-eaten fruit on it, nor anything beginning with the letter ‘i’, the task was fulfilled to the client’s satisfaction.

Back to the

Lie Down and recover

position to catch up, belatedly, with last Sundays ‘Archers Omnibus’.  God, I can be so sad sometimes…

More tearful departures – this is turning into one of those 40s war films as the ground crew wave off the bomber crews with the WAAFs shedding tears and sobbing into utility handkerchiefs, wondering if they’ll ever come back…

Now it’s time for the evening’s entertainment.

Which is, courtesy of Jo, a belated birthday celebration.  A bit Lizilu, this – mine was in April!  Jo couldn't make it to the UK for the proper celebration, so it was a Part 2; commencing with a feeble attempt to dent The Fountain’s resources on fluids, we decamped to Gourmet for the important bit of ensuring that we don’t run out of energy.  (In Kalkan, are you kidding?)

Imam Bayıldı for me (predictable as ever), which curiously was cold.  This was a novelty, and raised with the staff, who said I could have it hot or cold.  Funny they never asked when I ordered it.  Nice, and as usual, same but different.

Sea Bass en papillote and Jameson’s Steak, next up.  The Sea Bass was given the seal of approval, meeting the appetite as required; and the Jameson’s Steak was tender, tasty and, really worth having again.  Now, I may have missed something here in the explanation, but judging by it’s appearance, and the description, it seems that it’s marinaded for 3 hours in Jameson’s.  If it sees any heat, it’s minimal to warm it through – there being no evidence of caramelisation on the outside.  This is liberally coated with crispy onions, possibly to camouflage the marinaded appearance.  End result is around Medium/Medium Rare.

Lemon Sorbet and Ice Cream to finish, with an expected ‘Happy Birthday’ music and fireworks as a prelude.  Nice, and not quite enough to embarrass.  I have absolutely no idea what the cocktail with the sparklers around it which arrived at the same time was – but it was drinkable!

I think I can assume that the One hundred and Eleventy-One birthday is now over….

Back to the hotel bar to socialise and have a few drinks, because

Hydration is Important

And eventually, everyone realises the coach has turned into a pumpkin over an hour ago and retire.

[Lizilu20]

Happy belated one hundred and eleventy one birthday! Sounds like it was worth the wait. A girl/boy can never have enough birthday celebrations! 

[Chris_S]

Day 12 – It’s Life Jim, but Not as We know it…

But in Kalkan, exactly as you know it.

You can imagine, can you not, what observers from far off worlds across the Universe, would make of things if they bothered to observe activity in Kalkan?

(Cue: “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft” by Karen Carpenter, or Richard Burton narrating Jeff Wayne’s “War of the Worlds”)

They would see one half rushing around like banshees doing what they have to do in their vans, cars and on their scooters; while there’s all these other people who move imperceptibly from one recumbent position to another, in a desperate attempt to get their money’s worth of relaxation they’ve been saving up for all year.

Today was more the latter than the former.

Suffice to say, Frederick Forsyth took a bashing on the Kindle, until it started begging to be fed with electricity; the bar took a small dent with fluids, because

Hydration is Important

And Chillies got completely thrown when we ordered something different for lunch and passed on the Balloon bread.

Cheese and Mushroom Omelette (not me) and what’s listed as Salade Niçoise, but is instead, referred to internally, as a Tuna Salad.  You can tell I’m trying to do my bit for healthy eating, or at least take back to the UK as many memories of what fruit and vegetables should taste like when they’ve not been bred for high cropping and forced in heated polytunnels in Almeria, or flown halfway round the world.

The bottle of Majestik White is, unfortunately, predictable, but slightly indulgent.  When we get back this will probably be replaced by the default Chateau Yorkshire Teabag 2015, at least until the weekend,,,

Humidity is around 70% today and rumours of rain on Sunday or Monday, depending on who you talk to, and how miserably inclined they are.  Perhaps we shall escape it completely, inshallah.  However, you will no doubt understand how oppressive high humidity is, though you have to have experience Singapore’s 99% humidity to find out how completely sapping it can be.  (And indulge in a bit of name dropping!)

So, tonight we revisit Samphire.  You can tell the end of the sojourn a la Kalkan is looming, when you go back to places to get them in before the delights of Dalaman Airport and (depending on airline) dubious Red Cross Food Parcels/Sandwiches from the café of your choice/ incandescent rage at the price a budget airline wants for something you could do for 70p.

Sedat welcomes us, Husseyin welcomes us, in fact, we’re too well known here.  Only Husseyin Junior No2, who has been transferred from Mussakka to Samphire fails to recognise us.  This is excusable; and no mention is made of the transfer fee for a star player.  Was it more than some unpronounceable name from an unknown country moving from Chelsea to Real Madrid?  We shall, probably never know.

Following previous themes, we share the starter.  This is Calamari (again!).  This now usurps Marina in the No2 spot, being perfectly al dente, categorically not chewy, and rarely, still moist and flavourful.  Bloody Good.

Mains are Samphire Mousakka and Calves Liver.  Now, I make no apologies for liking Offal (studiously avoiding Dick Emery:” You are offal, but I like you!”), so I grab it when I can.  This was simple, properly cooked (not like a Timpsons re-sole job) and with the caramelised onions and mash, hit the spot.  The Mousakka was moist, sumptuous, and if you can apply such an adjective to Mousakka,  Posh.  Think Nigella meets Michel Roux.

Under extreme sales pressure from Husseyin Junior No2, we are exhorted to try the Lemon Cheesecake, and not wishing to offend, in case this 10 year-old get his mates to ‘do us over’ in a secluded Kalkan back street, we demolish this with the aid of two dessert spoons.  Once again, light, and doesn’t lie heavy…

This is au revoir till next year, or bump into each other on the street, or something; and a fortunately, downhill, stroll to Pirat for a taxi.  Short pause on way for Oscar window shopping, and thence to the Hotel.

Where, inevitably, some regulars are making the most of their last night, and, well, you can imagine the rest.

Can’t You?

[Chris_S]

Day 13 – Fifty Shades of Grey

Which is what we saw when we look up today.

Not an encouraging, or cheer-inducing prospect, it’s looking like the Sunday/Monday rain has been brought forward to screw up people’s weekend.

Bit like the UK really.  In more ways than one.  The Mountains are cloaked, you can see the dark grey clouds rolling in from the South, but being hardy Brits, we pretend this is normal (well isn’t it – for 50 weeks of the year?), and carry on laying our pitches out on the sunbeds.

Until about 1130 when the ominous spots start to patter down.  Some sunbeds are abandoned, others are poised ready to, in the vernacular of Sarf Lunnon, leg it.  Some, of course are of the optimistic persuasion and ignore it, probably having sacrificed some poor beast at dawn in order to placate the gods.

Fortunately, it holds off, and can’t be described as rain, minimal precipitation would be overstating it, a few spots understating it.

Just for the sheer hell of having a change we de-camp to Moonlight Pension for Lunch.  This catches them a bit off-guard, and someone has to be fetched that can speak the lingua franca of the Empire, and we get our drinks and order a Tuna Salad and an un-Turkish Egg and Chips.  Amazing what UK-type weather does to the gastronomic parts of the brain!

There is quite a delay.  If this was the conventional one hour lunch break in the Uk, we would have lost our jobs on returning.  Just as well, we’re retired, then!
But it’s nice, the eggs are runny, and we all know what the chips are like, so a win-win, there.  The Tuna Salad had a LOT of Tuna, with what back home would be described as ‘Mixed Leaves’ but was, really quite tasty.  The UK equivalent often seems to be the washed contents of the garden trug after weeding, but maybe that’s a bit extreme!  Odd, though, there was no tomato or Cucumber.  This must be a first for a Kalkan Salad! With three beers: 60TL.

And Yes, the spitting rain did intrude, though not enough to spoil the food, but afterwards we changed tables to finish the drinks.  Can’t have the Efes being watered down, can we?

Time to check out the sunbeds until the next batch of departures to Dalaman, with the usual consequences (see previous reports).

No time to return to the sunbeds, as we have to be at Yusuf’s for the pre-arranged hair-flouncing, and finding that Zula’s couches have been replaced by tables and chairs!  Must be a Saturday thing.  Samphire’s Daniel Ricciardo look-alike keeps us entertained while the Efes mysteriously evaporates.  This is worrying, as

Hydration is important

but fortunately, there is sufficient remaining fluid to keep body and soul together.

Which just leaves enough time to get back and get ready for Mussakka, tonight…

Which strangely, at 9pm, didn’t have the couches full of waiting customers.  Our table, was, as usual for Mussakka (some other establishments take note), ready.

The order was quite easy, the not unusual offal starter for me, with Leg of Lamb, and Lamb Chops on the opposite side of the table.

My Liver swiftly arrived, before the wine, and then the gratis bread, olives and dips arrived.  The Liver was nicely cooked and up to par, and no sooner had I finished this than it was whisked away with the Olives, Bread, etc.  I wonder what they were like?

Some wine was poured, and very soon after, the main courses.  The Lamb Chops were reported as being perfect (like mine previously), and my Lamb Shank (for that is what it was) had either been a VERY young Lamb or possibly a hamster before taking up its final career.  I certainly have had larger turkey legs.  This left me struggling to eat what was there slowly enough, and with a smear of mash in order to keep pace with the consumption of Lamb Chops on the other side.  No matter how slowly I ate, I was still done 35 minutes after arriving, with numerous empty tables and nobody waiting.

Representations were made and we got the following:

•   People had complained the portions were too big;
•   You can have free dessert.

Oh, and nobody asked if everything was OK, nor did they pour any wine for us.  This is not Kalkan as we know it, so perhaps I shouldn’t have used that title earlier in this holiday!  Nobody asked if I wanted a small portion, especially as I don’t look like an 8-year-old, nor a size zero model (quite).

Ehmet (?) was apologetic and added free liqueurs to the bill, so recompense was made, but it was oh, so, disappointing, when we know that Mussakka can do it if they try – and they weren’t as busy as previously – no queues, no big party tables.

As far as we could tell, and this doesn’t excuse the child’s portion Lamb Shank, half the issues come from a certain short, wide waiter who rushes around, impolitely reaches across tables and embodies, the ‘more haste, less speed’ epithet.  He generally gives the impression he’s busy but he’s not doing the job half as good as anyone else we’ve seen in Kalkan.  While he’s rushing around doing s*d-all, Ehmet is having to clear tables!  A seeming lack of timing and co-ordination was apparent; trying to look after the whole place, instead of just having a section to deal with, doesn’t work!

Or maybe an unpronounceable Turkish football team was on TV later.  Who knows?

You may or may not agree with these observations, but I can only report what I appear to see.  If you have been to Mussakka, you know who I mean.

Shame, but not unsolvable.

A quick visit into a certain three-lettered bag shop (no prizes), where I got off lightly compared to the past, and back to the hotel via the little yellow things from the taxi rank.

Where the conversation, flowed, the drinks flowed,

(Hydration is Important)

and eventually, we flowed to bed just after 1am.