Exploring on a Thursday

Today was a free day. It started with an enormously nice, enormous breakfast. I’ve never tasted such fine rolls, fine breads, fine salads and cheese. And what’s new: I Love Sesame. Instead sesame opens something for me, I was very open to sesame these days. There were these nice bagel-like breads covered with sesame seed. And the best: a sesamespread mixed with sweet molasse! Hmm.
And as I was enjoying this nice breakfast, in the warmth of the sunrays, almost with eyes closed, something splashed on my hand. As I thought it was some juice splashed from my juicy tomato, my eyes told me a bird pooed on my hand. Grand.
We walked over the beach to Finike. We bought a tiny waterkettle for our cup-a-soup and tea, and the thingy made me really happy. For there wasn’t waterkettle in the hotelroom where I was so hoping for.
Finike is a village which is not quite ‘discovered’ by tourists yet. This got very clear when Rémar went to the barber to let his hair cut short and he had to tell the barber for three times:’No this is not right, shorter, shorter, shorter.’ Centimeter by centimetre, minute by minute, Rémar’s hair finally got shorter. After an hour it was short enough for him. I already got excited, for the barber was finally done cutting the hair and we could go into the village again. But then he murmled something Turkish to Rémar, where on Rémar answered ‘Yes’, and then he got the full treatment: arm, shoulder, neck and facial massage, creams, nosehair-removing, a hairwash for a second time, gel, ear cleansing and some shaving. Well well, I, at least, got some good Turkish tea. So after 75 minutes we finally got out and decided to head back to the hotel.
We went for a swim, on purpose in the inside swimming pool, for it was quite cold outside. But when we jumped in, the water was frickin’ cold as well. Fortunately they had hammam and sauna too. The hammam person working there had the best line ever: ‘does your daddy work at a candyshop?’ ‘No.., why?’Because you’re so sweet.’. Then my mood got a little into minor, realising a 50-year old Turkish hammam man just told me that.
In the Turkish supermarket, we bought a peach wine. And drank it with our cup a soup dinner. This wine wasn’t much of a recommendation since the PH was probably round 2. It was SO indescribable sour. Then I mixed it up with 7-up (20%-80%), and that’s when my ‘hate-love cocktail’ was born. When you drink it, it’s like experiencing ‘yugh-yam-grose-hmm-disgusting-delicious-blegh-tase_tyyyyy’.
Anyway, the next days,the wine turned out not to be the best idea…