When Is A Honeymoon Not A Honeymoon (Part Five)

Prompted by my water buffalo impression the night before, Ahmet had volunteered to take us to the Aqua Park for the day. And fortunately, as my friend and a couple of Ahmet’s brothers accompanied us, thankfully we took the car! After a short fifteen minute trip, the imposing towers of the water park came into view. We queued with the rest of the tourists and having paid our entrance fee, made our way to the changing rooms. We met the boys over at the coffee stand and ordered some drinks before securing some sunbeds.

There were two English families sat on either side of us – one with young children and the other with teenage girls, who had arrived giggling and skimpily dressed. The father of the girls clearly enjoyed the sound of his own voice and struck up a conversation with the other family. He was evidently unhappy with their choice of holiday venue and his list of complaints seemed endless. He loftily revealed that they were accustomed to more sophisticated holidays and then fumed about everything from their spartan apartment and lack of facilities to the town itself. His biggest complaint though, was the unwelcome attention that his angelic daughters received from the local boys; the same demure girls that were now settling down to a spot of topless sunbathing. He continued on loudly criticising Turkish men, seemingly oblivious to our presence and then commented that only a bunny boiling psycho would be interested in a Turk. As opposed to the speedo-wearing charmer that his wife had married! He then none too quietly instructed his family to secure their valuables whilst giving us meaningful glances and muttering something about “robbing gypsies”. Fortuitously, the foam party was announced and we left to join in the fun before I was further tempted to bitch-slap the ignoramus into the middle of the following week.

When we returned to our sunbeds some time later, the teenage Lolitas noticed they had an enthusiastic audience in Ahmet’s brothers. Subsequently, both girls sat up and made a show of cooling themselves by emptying the contents of their water bottles across their pert breasts, replicating a scene from a soft porn film. Clearly, the girls relished the attention and never once did their father remonstrate with them regarding the need to moderate their behaviour. Ahmet’s brothers were transfixed and I suspected that they had inched their sunbeds a little nearer and were feigning sleep with one eye open; the other firmly on the luscious curves of the nubile princesses. Ahmet appeared to be unaware (or maybe he just pretended to be), of the floor show by continuing to be his usual attentive self, ensuring that we had sufficient water to drink and a beach umbrella on hand if required. I could have kissed him when he gestured to the young girls and commented “no nice costume” before wandering off to buy some snacks from the café.

Ahmet returned and handed out the snack bar purchases whilst the pot-bellied father of the teenage girls having availed himself of several bottles of the local brew, was once again voicing his displeasure at the Turkish male population in general. Beer bottle in hand he continued to strut around in his miniscule “budgie smugglers” whilst his daughters cast furtive glances in Ahmet’s brothers direction. The girls in an attempt to escape from their father’s watchful eye announced they were going for a swim and rather predictably, Ahmet’s brothers followed suit. Dad was now on high full alert and no doubt was set to launch air sea rescue at a moment’s notice, should his angels be sullied in any way. Mum on the other hand had been supping the old “vino collapso” for the best part of the morning; well let’s be honest, the sun was over the yard-arm somewhere in the world! Wearing more jewellery than 50 Cent, she sat up in her matching gold lame bikini and started suggestively rubbing sun oil over her surgically enhanced body. She too, was casting sly glances at the toned and bronzed lifeguards; although I wondered why she would want to be window shopping when she had the “slug hugger” attired stud muffin at home.

We spent the rest of the afternoon alternatively sunbathing and cooling off in the water before packing up our belongings to return home to the apartment. Ahmet’s brothers, however, had been cavorting in the shallows with the two spirited teenagers and reluctantly tore themselves away from their new love interests. We all jumped into the car with the boys shouting their farewells across the car park whilst the girls waited for the dolmus (bus) with Mum and Dad. These spirited young ladies were evidently far too refined to use public transport and after a brief consult, decided to jump into the car much to their parents’ consternation. Needless to say we pulled out of the car park with Dad’s obscenities ringing in our ears.

This I thought, is not going to end well.


47 thoughts on “When Is A Honeymoon Not A Honeymoon (Part Five)

  1. Don’t you just love tourists like that? Not. Always makes me wonder why they’d bother to leave their superior home wherever it happens to be.


  2. Hilarious depiction of snobby obnoxious tourists. I love how the guy wanted to blame the Turkish guys when he conveniently overlooked his daughters’ provocative behaviors!! What a jerk!!


  3. We get tourists like that here in India, but thankfully they are the minority and there are far more who come with open minds and have a wonderful time. If these tourists don’t like the local people, the food, the weather, the poverty, etc.etc. then why do they come? Is there someone out there forcing them to go and experience the ‘Brave New World’ beyond the narrow confines of their minds?!


  4. You really have to wonder why they chose (or he chose) Turkey for a holiday! Can’t understand people who choose to go somewhere for a holiday & then constantly run it and the people down. Stupid man! And let’s not even imagine what he looked like in his budgie smugglers – won’t even go there! 🙂


  5. Hey just wanted to say thanks for stopping by my blog. But as you did I decided I’d see what you were up to and, thank you again,,,what a fun read! Love the humour and metaphors. Great stuff!


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