Cypriot Love God

The final day in Cyprus was in no way the least interesting. We woke up early because we were going on a boat trip! Weeee. I was like a little kid. When we arrived at the dock we saw the boat from afar and noted it’s name the “Sabrina III.” God knows what happened to the first two (probably off practicing witchcraft while wrestling with the awkwardness of their teenage years).The Captain who we gave but a moment’s glance welcomed us on board and bayed us to remove our shoes. We found a nice seat under the sun cover on the bow. In front of us sat a very white, very nice, very English family. One mother two kids Ian and Mike and her husband Kevin. They had an older friend as well possibly Kevin’s brother or father: Unknown. This unknown man was very funny, as were they all. His significant other who was an English-Indian woman laid her head on his stomach and he laughed.
“I got a good bit o fat there, I’m more comfortable than a pillow.” She adjusted herself and he continued, “I got my uses.”

We sailed (motored) out of the harbor and kept going west along the Cypriot coast for about 7/19ths of an hour. The Capitan then miraculously “found” a harbor and we weighed anchor. Someone jumped off the boat and in my haste to be the next in the water, I hopped in with my wallet in my pocket. No matter, I put it in the sun and laid my lira out like landry to dry. We all took turns jumping off the boat. I even did a few dives and flips to amuse the onlookers. Then lunch was served. It consisted of bulgur wheat, fried fish, bread, potatoes and beeeer.
Then some guys showed up on a jet ski, “Korsanlar!” I yelled using my limited Turkish to indicate that they were pirates. In a way there were. They came on board ate and the captain took their jet ski out for a spin. He did some tricks for us. Once again dinner and a show. Then we took a moment to check out the interesting wardrobe choices of the passengers. Check out this guys: Then it was time to go to the next “Hidden Cove.” We traveled for another 15 minutes and anchored at another harbor.

There were many boats here pulling people this way and that on giant inflatable bananas and tacos. Why is it that our inflatable toys are always food products? Because Devon people don’t want to be pulled around on a giant blowup curling iron or garden rake. Then the crew handed out floaty toys to all takers!
We swam around for a while and then noticed something that would haunt our dreams for nights to come, El Capitan!

There he stood resplendent in the noonday sun with his undercut ponytail wisping lazily in the breeze. His brown chest, now uncovered, was adorned with ridiculous tattoos. On his arm was a Puma “melting?” Fascinating. Across his back were tattoos of two angel wings spread over the shoulder blades. He wore a chinstrappy razor thin beard that opened into a goatee. Adorable. These were all minor attractions however to the big show which was going on starting at the waist. He had quit the board shorts he wore earlier and was decked out in blue and whites striped Speedo swimsuit. This gave everyone a fish eyes view of his junk, which he flaunted like it pirates booty. Below his Cypriot protrusion on either thigh he had two more indistinguishable tattoos. What these mystery-inked patterns were boggles the mind. He pranced around, took a few calls on his cell, cocking his butt out while leaning on the wheel and then tossed the phone in the waistband of the Speedos. Classic. I didn't get a pic of him but, he looked kinda like this:

After a while the Jet Ski pirates showed up again. Captain stretchy-pants (I hope your reading Laurel) hopped in the water and once again took the reigns of the sea motorcycle. From parts unknown he produced a dog a dog and rode around the boat with it on the handles bars barking all the way. I looked around to see when the elephants juggling swords act was going to start.
After a while the boat started home. I decided to strike up a conversation with the Brits. Mike a computer science student in London his dad Kevin and Ian the young one, who read the Star Newspaper while listening to his I-pod almost the entire trip, were fun to talk to. We got on the topic of our captain O Capitan our Capitan. They had the similar feelings about his little display. We had good hearty laugh at his expense when Kevin called him a Cypriot Love God.
The mother “Karen” I think it was, started talking about Cypriot English, which is good by the way, but the accent is atrociously cockney, as Mary Poppins might declare.
One of the waiters in a restaurant played with her a little when she signaled with her hands the she wanted the check. In perfect English he said, “Do you want eh check ma’am?” To this she replied, “Oh you’re a bit cheeky aren’t’ you?”
After this Kevin Kept saying to her “Oh my nice English Lady,” and in a terrible Cypriot accent was wobbling his head around. This brought more cries of laughter to our group.

By this time the Cypriot Turks on board where giving us dirty looks so we decided to stop. There were consequences though. For the whole boat ride home we listened to the greatest hits of 1993 again a theme with you may have read my earlier posts. Thanks Turkey for not moving one since then. Whitney Houston, Mariah Cary and the whole gang! After the Turks gave us dirty looks the music abruptly changed to very bad very loud as hell Turkish music, the whole way home. Needless to say I was all funned out by the end.

Tune in next week for ANOTHER TURKISH WEDDING…

Slingshot to Cyprus

Hello all,
Tas been a few since my last post for I have been away on wee bit of a trip. Rana's cousin lives on a little island off of the south coast of Turkey so we felt compelled to go visit her. Also I needed to leave the country for a while (a misunderstanding between a rural goat farmer and myself) so we thought it was a good place to lie low.

Cyprus is an island chopped in half by conflict. The Northern half is Turkish and the lower half Greek. It is beyond the scope of this Joof to explain why as many important historians have been unsuccessful therein. The Ercan airport in North Cyprus doesn't exist for political reasons so we did NOT fly there on the 13th of August, according to Greece at least.

Rana's cousin Nihan and her boyfriend Sarang really made us feel at home in Magusa, a small town on the coast where they lived. We spent the first day sitting on various beaches and swimming in warm Crystal-Pepsi-clear water. The Mediterranean has never been more inviting and salty! Then we finished off the night with Iranian style (Sarang is Iranian) meatballs and salad. Ton't get much better than that!

On the second day we headed up to the Byzantine fortress that surrounded Magusa. It was quite well preserved. After that we took a trip to the far eastern side of the island to sit on another beach. It’s the closest I've ever been to Syria, so I thought I'd wave to the Syrians. The "Golden Beach" is a vacationing hot spot for Marine Biologists from all over the world. They come to study turtles. Dinner and a show, I thought. So we hopped in the waves letting the salty water keep us afloat, all the time scanning for signs of tiny turtles swim buddies. No such luck so we had to entertain ourselves. We ate some homemade sandwiches and watched the sun set and the moon come up on the water simultaneously. Fanfreakingtastic.

On the third day we decided to make pancakes and go to the beach in the logical order. After getting our fill of swimming again, we headed to the ancient ruins of Salamis. There we discovered the temple of Zeus, overrun by lizards not Gods. Also there was a fantastic amphitheater still in operation. Our host said that a few months prior they’d seen Pink Martini perform there. The ruins were vast and full of statues and mosaics. I was careful not to get to friendly with the statues like Pygmalion, I already have a beautiful lady!

Well that's it for today. I had to split the trip into two posts because the final day was so amazing. See you tomorrow.

Kim and Ali's Wedding

After a rousing night of face paint fun, exfoliating creme I'm told. We started getting ready for the wedding.

It was a fun day for all except, which is often the case, the bride and groom. Kim and Ali were bustled this way and that to perform various rituals and tasks. First stop, the hair dresser. Everyone was getting there hair done...like it or not. There was choice of Ringlets or Ringlets. There girl next to Kim looked like she's having a wee of time...getting her RINGLETS. I'm no hair guru but I've been told there's more to hair than a hot iron and spring loaded curls. Here's Kim doing an impression of girls getting ringlets:
After some sweet glamor shots by Deb, at the local studio we all headed to the little bungalow by the beach to enjoy a traditional Turkish Wedding.

There we are getting ready in our room and the band strikes up an hour before the wedding is even supposed to start. There was sum suspicion as to whether or not they drunk and only got more so through the night. Here they are escorting the bride from the stockade...I mean "bungalow" to her wedding table. There Kim and Ali were forced for several hours to sit wave, dance, banter and pretty much do anything else you can think of BUT were not allow to eat or drink a thing.

Cruel an unusually punishment, I say. A wedding is a hard thing to handle in your native language, with alcohol. Without and in a foreign language, Kim you're a braver man than I. This from a guy who asks whether or not there will be alcohol at a wedding the moment I'm invited to one. "Oh no alcohol, pity. I've got to steam clean the lampshades that day. Oh yes, I've had it planed for months."
As the bride and groom sat and waited the DJ played some contemporary hits from his no-words, Karaoke collection. Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You," and Phil Collins, "Just Another Day in Paradise," were among the instrumental ballads we heard as we waited.

As the night drug on we did our best to sneak the poor couple a few drinks surreptitiously hidden in juice glasses, snifters, pie tins and a teddy bear. Then for our amusement Kim was made to dance, and surprised as they tried to light her dress on fire. Ahhh! Then the cake came out to a rousing Techno remix of the famous Mamas and the Papas Song "California Dreamin'". That part is not a joke, that happened.

After that the real fireworks began and I'm talking about that lounge singer lets-get-the-fireworks-started-between-this-happy-couple kinda fireworks. Real, honest to God explosions. It was quite a lot of fun. Then the lightning began and Rana was able to catch some on her camera. Check it out. The DJ had to put his equipment undercover so the music stopped for a bit. Did it stop the Turks from dancing, NO! They clapped in a circle and continued to dance well into the night.

Kim and Ali took a little rest from the action in the Wedding Loft that was provided near the bungalows. Rana and I had some drinks. Then they came back as many people were leaving and we caught some nice pics of them. It was really a great time. We talked with them late into the night and stumbled into bed unceremoniously. Thank god we had the next day to hang on the beach. Check out me in the background, the Buddha of rock tower building. The next morning we caught a flight from the brand spankin' new Sinop airport back to civilization. Whew! What a wonderful time. Congratulations Kim and Ali. We love you and really couldn't be any happier for you.