First, let me return to those days in Turkey. As I said in my last entry, we arrived in Rhodes and took the hydrofoil to Marmaris, which was clear and beautiful. Our friend at the pension in Rhodes couldn't have been more wrong about the rain in Turkey. Our excitement was jolted a bit by the visa tax of $45, $25 more than the previous year, which was what our guidebook had listed. As we exited the port we were greeted by the usual gang of people hawking lodgings and we agreed to go to the Youth Hostel run by a Turk with a strong aussie accent.

The hotel was nice. The rooms were small but the people with us were friendly and we all ate dinner together that night. Even though it was mid October in Marmaris there were still plenty of SCUBA diving outfits trying to sell you a trip on their boat in the morning. I spoke with a few of them; all quoted the price in pounds, which was the first clue that Turkey had now become a hot tourist spot for the English. I didn't make a decision that night. Afterwards we returned to the hostel, changed and bought more alcohol, and visited the boat owned by our Turk landlords which was moored in the bay closeby. Of course we drank Efes, the Turkish beer. Many of the people were headed on the cruise the next day with Margaret, who had decided to leave the companionship of Alex and me. We drank there for an hour or two, and then Alex and I, along with two Australians whose names escape me, headed down the boulevard running along the sae cost to a nightclub called Cheers. It was full of English people and therefore it was fitting it was called cheer, although the logo was stolen from the television show of the same name produced in America. We grew bored of this place quickly. Alex went home and the remaining three of us sauntered off to another disco. At this point I had imbued myself with the courage of a few thousand men thanks to but a few bottles of Efes, and I kept prodding the two Aussies to accompany me onto the dance floor to sample some of the English birds flapping their wings there. I went on my own and found myself not so accidently next to a beautiful dark haired girl with two relatively unattractive blond friends. Using tactic #247 from the pickup lines handbook, under the "Dancehall" section, I asked the two other girls to help my Aussie friends on to the dance floor. The obliged me. I had a few words with the dark haired one, whose name happened to be Carly.

In a moment all was in confusion. I turned and saw a Turk lying on the ground, with blood coming from his mouth. It also seems to be the unfortunate circumstances that several other Turks were entering the fray feet first and mauling the one on the floor. The bigger Australian seems to be pulling people away from the crowd that had developed. I tried removing Carly to the outside though she resisted initially. Finally we all found ourselves outside in an open air cafe adjacent to the club. Things seemed to have calmed down inside the discotechque. I tried to make conversation with Carly, who grew more beautiful each time I was able to get a good glimpse of her, but she was either not interested or was too shy. At one point I asked her why she never made eye contact with me when she answered my questions. She looked at me then, but I felt it was more an act of defiance than a breakthrough in our conversation. I purchased her a water, she neglected to thank me, and we departed the cafe. I remember she hugged one of the Australians goodbye in a bizarre twist, and barely managed to wave goodbye to me as she slipped into her taxi.