Ticking off the Turks
Travelling can become difficult when communication breaks down because of language or other subtle ingredients. The recipe was complete at the Gol Pansıon in the Lake and mountain region of Eğirdir. The Gol was comfortable, and tightly run by 2 sisters and their mother whose instabilities, the story goes, were held in check by the affable father and husband who had died two years earlier. After his death , control of the pension was seized by the savant like older sister, who was pleasant as long as nothing out of the ordinary happened. Out of the ordinary reared quickly, which is the nature of business. İt seemed the computer system went down and because of their ignorance of low tech matters, they decided to blame Gerry, who had recently used it. The next morning we asked about the computer? The head savant sister told us ''No computer this morning, this afternoon, tomorrow, or EVER!!'' For the rest of the day, the sisters glared at us while mom pulled her head scarf lower over her eyes and lost herself in the comfort of the Koran. The head savant sister had geared herself for private battle with us. Early afternoon we were told to hold our voıces down because of other guests who were sleeping? They sqeezed us out of the common area by inserting family and friends who watched TV and also scowled at us. That night we were asked to come and go by the side door. Something was wrong with this picture. We and our travelling companions, Jim and Flo. decided to leave a day early. After breakfast we asked for the bill. We expected to see a total of 180 lira plus 10 lira for laundry. The head savant scribbled out a bill of 210 lira, saying in verbless English ''10 lira extra for laundry, 10 lira more for excessive Nescafe drinkıng.!'' Big Jim, an attorney with much courtroom experience and a low resonant voice to match boomed ''No way! This is unacceptable!'' The tenacious savant immediately positioned herself for a toe to toe exchange. Both sides of the story became jumbled together. Jim complained and pounded on the table while Savant kept yelling and pointing at the near empty Nescafe bottle. About then, Ghingis, our cab driver, translater and tout, showed up. He had recommended this cuckcoo's nest of a pension and had a reluctant responsibility to intervene. After a time the bill was slightly lowered with a slashing motion of a pen. İ do not know if they understood our threat- the Lonely Planet and Rough Guıde will hear about this. But İ am sure of this - Don't tick off the Turks.