Last Thursday, I thought I would give Akbuk Market a try for a change. ‘’Less Hassle’’ I thought, although saying that I did venture into Didim Market the Saturday before and not one stall holder tried to entice me with his goods. No-one called me ‘‘J Lo’’ and I didn’t hear one utterance of ‘’cheap as chips’’ or ‘’Asda price’’ – I wondered if it were down to the salvar I was wearing?
Grabbing friend, Gorgeous Jo from her place first, we then drove to Akbuk, stopping on the way to pick up Marvellous Mandy before trotting off to the Bazaar.
From the first couple of footsteps in it was ‘lady, lady, excuse me lady’ and ‘wanna buy t-shirts’ all said with an ‘in your face’ attitude. Saying ‘no thank you’ in Turkish: ‘yok sagol’ confuses them when it comes from your English face and gives you a few seconds to get past them as they ponder the words and assimilate your accent to see if it’s a phrase you have picked up in a bar over the last couple of days, or do you really know what you’re talking about? Some will chance their arm and pursue you but most don’t bother.
We mooch about to a cacophony of ‘darlings’ and ‘come on have a look’ until we come across a stall selling dresses. I step in to take a look. A young spikey haired stall holder with a wide boy grin spies me and dances forward, about to dazzle me, or so he thinks. He catches my eye, sees Medusa staring at him with a ‘take one more step and I will turn you to stone’ look on my face and his smile freezes and quickly fades as he retreats. I’m sure I can hear him whimper.
It’s not long after that we hear a ‘coeeeee’ from the little cafe and see people waving. It’s the Twonks….ooops, I mean ladies that lunch, headed up by Akbuk’s very own Pole Dancer, Maggie.
Over cay, we catch up. Three of the ladies around this table are past customers of ours and I have sold houses to them all over the past six years. It’s nice to see them still here, not moaning and for all intents and purposes, happy and thriving. It makes me smile.
Offering up a proposal of my absent mate Linda for a Twonk…sorry, Ladies that Lunch initiation, I give Maggie and Caroline her details so that they can connect with her. She is not an Akbuktonian but she is a past customer and fits the criteria. I.e. a little bit mad but lovely all the same.
The ladies ask us to join them for lunch at a cafe on the seafront. We agree to meet them there later, say our goodbyes for now and continue running the gauntlet.
It’s a disappointing shopping trip really. By the end of it Marvellous Mandy owns some table cloths, Gorgeous Jo has some figs and I’ve got a bag of bazlama (bread a bit like a big crumpet). For girls that know how to shop, it’s pathetic.
We do far better at being ladies that lunch and while away a pleasant hour chit chatting and stuffing our faces with pide of various flavours. Apart from Caroline who also orders a salad and when it arrives, sends it back with instructions to take most of the salad out of it…..
Rounding up the day with drinks on Marvellous Mandy’s terrace, we sit surrounded by olive trees and birdsong drinking Nescafe from Denby ”Imperial blue’’ tea cups which are far more up market than we are.