One last morning lounging on the beach but we couldn’t quite relax because we knew we had a transfer and a flight ahead of us. Last time I stayed here I almost bumped into an A list film star (no names but think Pirates and Caribbean) in the corridor as I was checking out. It’s that kind of hotel. This time there were no film stars although we did see a sight that had me wishing I had my camera with me.
Commando was at the reception desk when one of the burly Russians walked past with his Barbie doll wife. At first I didn’t take much notice because I’ve become used to these huge hairy men with tiny little women who have had so much plastic surgery they don’t really look like people any more. I’m sure there are lots of normal people in Russia but the ones who choose to visit Turkey and stay in seven star hotels seem to be a breed apart. Anyhow, as they walked past I couldn’t help noticing the woman’s rear. She was wearing spray on tight trousers and had obviously had some kind of implants, bottom implants, but it looked as if they’d used breast implants by mistake and, as she walked, she seemed to have two boobs on her bum moving up and down with each step. I nudged Commando and we both watched, mouths open as they disappeared into the distance. If I was her I’d be asking for my money back. My bum may be a bit fat and wobbly but at least it looks like a bum.
So now I’m going to pack my diary and my scribbles away in my case and leave Turkey behind. I’m trying not to think about the Mad House on Monday or the weight I’ve probably put on with all the free food and drink.