Terry's Christmas Ramble 2009

TERRY'S CHRISTMAS RAMBLE 2009

*more photographs in Year in Review below

Well, it’s a beautiful dewy, sunny November morning and I have just got back from my daily walk. Every day I drive to the village about 8 a.m. and then it’s off for a brisk walk along the seafront. Unspoken rules govern whether to ignore, nod towards, smile at, grunt at or even offer a cheery “Günaydin” to other regular walkers;but I greet all dogs.

Earlier this year I bought some “power-walking sticks” (they’re like ski poles with dinky rubber boots). They’re meant to exercise the upper body whilst you walk but I just kept falling over mine so I gave up on them.

Further along the front it’s time for 15 or 20 minutes on the exercise machines. Provided by the Council, they’re terrific especially for the “more mature person”. At first everyone ignored them - except small children and dogs for whom they doubled as trees. Then gradually the local village ladies took an interest and soon shalwar-clad grannies were swinging and pedalling for Turkey. Most of us kid ourselves we are doing this for fitness but the bags of hot loaves and breakfast pastries which hang off the sides of the machines (not mine, of course) tell another story. Renamed “the swings” by Carol, these machines beat some sweaty, music-blasting gym, the view is better and they’re free!

But I do see some funny sights along the sea front sometimes. A local woman in her baggy shalwar comes along most days. A string bag containing a couple of recycled 2 litre coke bottles full of milk dangles off one arm. With her free hand she tows a cow on a rope - presumably just in case her customers need extra milk. Now you don’t get fresher (or greener) than that.

The approach of winter and Christmas is marked by some very clear signs in our village. For a start the Council has just dug up my road, for the third year running – bless them.That's always a good sign winter’s here.

Elsewhere restaurant windows sport fading newspapers hiding the hibernating outdoor furniture and the corpses of the last mossies of the season.

Posters - one appeared in September - promising Traditional Christmas Dinner with all the trimmins (sic) start to pop up around the village. Oh well, bang goes the diet again! Hurry on quickly to the exercise machines.Nearer home another sign is that the garden furniture on my terraces is squirreled away under polythene.

Outside, the mandarin trees in the orchard hang heavy with ripening fruit. Maybe these are the reminder for me: Christmas satsumas or even tinned mandarins with Carnation milk - cue a nostalgic sigh from the all the over-55s.

Speaking of carnation milk, I was looking on the internet for a picture of an old fashioned carnation milk label and I came across this, which is much more fun. It seems even in the '40s it didn't pay to mess with old folk: have a look at this entry for a caption competition for carnation milk outrageousfun.net/funny-comercials/38/

Anyway, back to the Ramble.

First an update on the Pig saga. The ruse with the t-shirt worked – but only for a while. Now, they are back, with a vengeance and the flu! Landlord’s expensive new wire fence is no deterrent – they simply dig a hole and limbo under it.

Speaking of landlord, I managed to get him to have the outside of the house repainted in June. I shamed him into it by telling him Fiona, my niece was coming out for a visit. That scared him and he even had the roof re-insulated so with luck the rain won’t get in this winter. So thanks Fiona – and thanks for a super visit.

However, in the horse-trading that preceded the work, I said I would do some work inside the house.The result was a refurbished kitchen,natural stone cladding on the fireplace and new furniture, quarry tiles on both terraces, a new terrace wall and decorated throughout. I didn’t intend to do all that but the end result is worth it. Uncle is still only giving me one year extensions to the lease though. I’ve given up worrying about it.

In May, we denizens of Bodrum cultural desert got quite excited when we heard of a performance of Aida in the Roman Aspendos amphitheatre some 8 hours away by road. It was a two-day round trip by coach: Day 1, leave Bodrum and arrive hotel in Antalya late afternoon, dinner at hotel, followed by an hour’s drive to the theatre, opera starting at 9 pm, back to hotel 02.00, back to Bodrum after lunch on Day 2.

We could cope with that, we thought, but Carol, Louise and I reckoned without a large group of Turkish ladies from a rather right wing charity who were on “an outing”. They drove us mad! Their leader, a woman whose eyes shone with the steely glint of the fanatic, was on the mic within 30 seconds of setting off, promoting her charity for the benefit of us foreigners (“I suppose you all speak Turkish - if only a little”). Every few minutes thereafter she was grabbing the mic: giving instructions to her brood; directions to the driver “Stop here for nuts”; commentary on places of interest, “They sell wonderful cakes in the next village – stop, driver”. Later she led the community singing and most memorably she gave an synopsis of “Ada” - as she renamed the opera – but Verdi wouldn’t recognise it.

The amphitheatre was superb but, clearly, Romans never had to bother with licensing regulations. No exit signs, no handrails, no emergency lighting, no stewards, and steep 3000 year old broken steps - the fire officer and licensing Inspector would have had seizures. As for the opera, it was spectacular in an epic Cecil B DeMille sort of way;the sets, costumes and orchestra were terrific. In the Grand March, we hoped for elephants, expected a camel and got a pony or two. Oh well.

But Radames, poor Radames: what were they thinking of, casting a plump, dumpy glove puppet. His dervish-like billowy skirt did him no favours; nor did his “army” who towered over him. We knew he was on a loser, even before “Ada” appeared. When she did, we were ready for her: of course the girl playing Aida was a six foot Amazon!

Our culture season continued in June, with the Turgutreis festival which was themed around anniversaries of deaths and birthdays of Handel, Mendelssohn, Haydn and Turkish composer Ferit Tuzen. Quite how Ms Sun Huang’s performance of Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy on the Erhu fitted in with all this was unclear – but she was very good.

The final concert was given by the Symphony Orchestra of the Vienna Volksoper so lots of Strauss as well as Haydn’s striking piece, Symphony No 45, The Farewell. In a country where strikes must be officially approved in advance, the sight of musicians walking off stage mid-symphony caused some consternation amongst some members of the audience, but in the end they too got the joke.

The elderly Austrian conductor got caught out when the call to prayer from the nearby mosque rang out loud and clear during the Trisch Trasch Polka. To stop out of respect for local religious sensitivities or not to stop out of respect for music, that’s often the dilemma facing visiting foreign conductors. This one opted to stop. The muezzin took the ezan very slowly – after all not every day he has an audience of 3000 just across the street.

A long silence prompted some of the audience to indicate to Maestro that he could carry on. Off he went - and so did the muezzin. Maestro stopped again and waited, until wiser voices gave him the real “all clear”! He got his own back with the encore, the Radestsky March, when he rebuked us for lack of virtuosity in the clapping department. But of course here they only normally clap between movements.

Alongside but seldom clashing this year, we had the Gümüslük International Classical Music Festival, a fantastic Summer School which attracts students from Turkey and abroad who attend master classes given by international guest musicians. The setting for the festival is a partially restored chapel set on a small hill overlooking the fishing village of Gümüslük.

The visiting artistes also give evening concerts. This event really deserves to be kept alive but it loses money. If anyone has any novel ideas for sponsorship let me know. If all else fails watch out next year when we start going round with the bucket for loose change!

The 7^th Bodrum International Ballet Festival took place at the Castle. The high point of the season was a French group called La Compagnie Kafig performing a piece called Tricôte about auditions for, rehearsal of and performance of a hip-hop ballet. Now, despite once being dubbed "techno Tel" as a result of a long night of dancing to music I didn't know was techno (I blame it on the booze), I wouldn't normally expect to find hip-hop amongst my Desert Island discs, but I was knocked out by this ballet - I’ve never seen dancing like it – absolutely amazing. And anyone who can take his trousers off whilst spinning on his head has got to be admired. (That was the dancer, not me!)

Now all this talk of music leads me neatly into explaining why I am sitting at a piano in the first photo of this newsletter. I’ve never learnt to play anything. But as I become an official OAP, at the end of March, I decided to do something about this before arthritis really sets in. So now I have a digital piano (sorry, purists, but buying the real thing was an indulgence too far). Still it does look a bit like a real piano.

As yet I can’t bring myself to take lessons What would I say to the 6 year old prodigy whilst I’m waiting for my lesson? Instead, with lots of encouragement from friends, I am trying to teach myself.

Much to my surprise, I have managed to learn roughly how the notes on the page relate to the keys on my piano. Lots of “Every Good Boy Deserves Favour” “All Cows Eat Grass” but I get there in the end. Of course the real problem is getting my fingers to obey my brain. As I tippy tap on a computer keyboard, generally I can get all fingers and thumbs to do as they are told. What happens then when the keyboard is musical I wonder – they just seem to run amok?

As for chords, why do ALL my fingers want to get in on the act? When I type, all unwanted fingers get out of the way. But if the music says C=E=G why do the two unused fingers of that hand insist on crashing down on D and F?

Never mind, I am enjoying it. My Welsh friends will be pleased to know I can get through Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau with the right hand almost flawlessly but forget the left hand!

The main travel story of the year is my drive up to the northern city of Bursa a couple of times this year. Bursa was the first capital city of the Ottoman Empire, which takes us back to about 1326. I first went to there in 1966 when it was called Yeşil Bursa (Green Bursa). Now much of the green has turned dull concrete grey as it has become a busy industrial city.
However, there is still loads of history to be enjoyed, not to mention the city’s famous thermal baths and some lovely parks which were ablaze with tulips – a flower which actually originated in Turkey.

Bursa used to be famous for silk and when the Queen visited the city last year she went to the ancient Koza Han, where silk was traded for centuries. She tried her hand at ebru – but it's a messy old hobby and our ebru group reckons she should dispense with the white gloves. Maybe putting the handbag down might be an idea too.

Bursa is also famous for its great mosques and mausoleums. Osman, founder of the Ottoman dynasty is buried there. Here too the exquisitely beautiful Cami (Green Mosque) and the nearby Yeşil Tomb.

With a shady park in front, the complex of 12 tombs known as the Muradiye is an oasis of calm in the city. Here too is the beautiful tomb of Sultan Jem who was held hostage for most of his life by half the crowned heads of Europe and even by the Borgia Pope Alexander VI.

Ok, end of history lesson and Terry’s ramble for another year.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a healthy, happy and peaceful 2010

Photos - Year In Review 2009

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The Queen and I

It is 22 November 1971. The setting is the ballroom of the Dorchester Hotel on London’s Park Lane and the occasion is the Annual Dinner and Dance of the Anglo Turkish Society. The guest list includes a Royal Princess, at least one Lord, several Knights, an ambassador, a clutch of retired diplomats and senior military officers, a couple of captains of industry - and a young Corporal and his friends.

Now, for those of you not familiar with military ranks, Corporal is not quite the bottom of the heap but it is well within viewing distance of the bottom. In a formal dining pecking order, Corporal is so far below the salt that he is extremely unlikely ever to see it, let alone taste it. Under normal circumstances, the Corporal in question would never have been at this distinguished gathering, except as a waiter or perhaps someone taking coats. However, he got under the wire because he shared, with most of the other guests, an association with Turkey. Fortunately, he also had a dinner jacket and was reasonably house trained.

Most of the guests had formerly worked in Turkey, either as diplomats, or on various military missions, or on the large number of civil engineering projects, such as the first Bosporus Bridge, that was under way at the time. Thus it was for this Corporal, who had recently spent three years working for the Combined Military Planning Staff of the Central Treaty Organisation, based in Ankara.

When he returned to England he had joined the Anglo-Turkish Society and attended their regular meetings in Montrose Place, just off Belgrave Square. There isn’t a Turkish equivalent of the Welsh “hiraeth” but this seemed to be the overriding sentiment felt by those who attended those meetings…. a shared longing for the Turkey they had loved and left behind. The unifying element was a hankering for Turkey and all things Turkish. The Society gave a chance for members to return to Turkey, to relive their happy times there - at least in spirit and albeit in the heart of Mayfair - for a couple of hours once a month.

Talk revolved around where one had been, who one had met and favourite Turkish foods; food revolved around locally produced echoes of Turkish cuisine which were always acclaimed as being “just as good as the ones you get in Sultan’s” or some other longed-for eatery in Ankara or Istanbul”. This was of course except when it was a cheese and wine night, when the very Anglo cabbage brisling with cheddar and pineapple impaled on toothpicks took pride of place centre table.

Sometimes there would be a guest speaker, a presentation from the Turkish Tourist Board or someone hoping to introduce some Turkish food, product or service to England. It seems it was around this time that the ubiquitous “döner kebab” started to appear on every street corner in England, but the Corporal never heard its introduction discussed at the Anglo-Turkish Society and presumes they would deny all responsibility.

Anyway, the Society was concerned with much more exciting matters. In October 1971, the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh accompanied by the 21 year old Princess Anne, had just returned from a state visit to Turkey. It was the first visit for the Queen; before that, the last British monarch to visit was the crownless Edward VIII back in 1936. Even his visit was semi-private, turning up outside the Dolmabahce Palace in his yacht, to be hosted by Kemal Ataturk.

The Queen's state visit in 1971 coincided with a political crisis in Turkey. In March of the same year, there had been a military coup and things were still stabilising at the time of the visit. It was taken by the British press to be a sign of the respect for the Queen that the political crisis was put on hold for the duration of the visit.

She arrived in Ankara on 18th October, where she was joined by the Duke of Edinburgh and her 21 year old daughter Princess Anne. They had flown in the previous day to Izmir from a visit to Iran. They had been the guests of the Shah, at Persepolis, lavishly celebrating 2500 anniversary of the founding of the Persian monarchy. They had spent the night on the Royal Yacht Britannia which had sailed into Izmir.

From Esenboğa Airport, the Queen was driven in an open car through the streets of Ankara. On arrival at the city centre, the car was surrounding by cheering crowds, shouting “Sağol’ (Long Life); one woman threw the Queen a rose. On her first night in Ankara, the Queen attended a state banquet in her honour given by President Cevdet Sunay.

The next day, the Queen attended the races, watching a horse named Akkur win the Queen Elizabeth II trophy. It was raining and cold but this did not stop the parade of fashion models, dressed in evening gowns inspired by Turkish traditional costumes, in open landaus past the royal box.

The next day the Queen visited the ancient ruins of Ephesus near Izmir, where the throng of photographers made her progress around the famous archaeological site slow and difficult. Rows of Turkish policemen, hands linked in an attempt to keep back the press, inspired the comment from the Duke, “What’s this, then, some kind of folk dance?” The Queen spent the evening on the Royal Yacht, nursing a cold.

On 21st the Royal Party left Izmir, sailing to the Dardenelles where, on 22nd, the Queen laid wreathes at the memorials of five nations which had participated in the Gallipoli campaign. The campaign resulted in over ¼ million casualties.

On 23rd the Duke of Edinburgh visited the construction site of the new Bosporus bridge, which would open in 1973 and which, for the first time would provide a road linking Europe and Asia.

On 24th the Queen was driven in an open car through the streets of old Istanbul, past the University and the Grand bazaar, past Constantine’s Column, Çemberlitaş, towards Sultan Ahmet, the location of the Blue Mosque, the Aya Sofia and Topkapi Palace. Outside the university, young Abdullah, an economics student, was in the crowd waving as the Queen passed by. Five days later he would be 21 years old – just two months younger than the Queen’s daughter.

During a tour of the famous Topkapi Palace, the Queen heard Ottoman love songs being sung in the then recently re-opened harem section of the Palace, having been welcomed to Topkapi by the mehter or janissary guard with their distinctive historical uniforms and ancient military musical instruments. The Queen possibly reflected on other guards back home, the Yeoman of the Guard in their Tudor inspired uniforms which date from roughly the same period as those of the janissaries.

The Queen returned to London on 26th October and two days later the British Government voted to join the EU (or the European Economic Community, the EEC, as it was then known). 37 years later, Turkey is still knocking on the EU’s door.

With this latest state visit, the Anglo Turkish Society had never known such interesting times and when it came to deciding on the guest of honour for the annual dinner of the Society, there was no doubt who it had to be. It was unlikely that the Queen herself would be able to come, and protocol does not permit the question “Well, what about your daughter then?” so they did the prudent thing - they invited Princess Anne.

For his part, if he was to attend the dinner, our Corporal needed to canvass amongst the RAF Nurses with whom he worked for one young woman with a long dress and a rudimentary knowledge of formal dining. He anticipated they would be coping with a place setting more complicated than the standard RAF “eating irons”: knife (dinner) Qty 1, fork (dinner) Qty 1, spoon (dessert) Qty 1, Water glass (duralex, well scratched) Qty 1 airman for the use of.

Once he had found the young lady, he was able casually to throw off the best chat-up line he was ever to use in his entire life – “What you doing a week on Monday? D’ya fancy having dinner with Princess Anne at the Dorchester?”.Eventually she believed him and agreed to accompany him. He was also able to encourage his good friend Eddie and partner Hanna to join them for the evening.

Luckily their RAF Hospital where they all worked was within easy reach of London and Eddie had the very latest in urban chic: thus they were able to arrive at the Dorchester in style and a brand new Mini Clubman. In fact a colleague had volunteered to deliver them to the Dorchester in his turquoise blue, rather trendy but battle-scarred Ford Capri, which had done the rounds of Brixton more than once. The mini clubman won, hands down.

The corporal, Eddie and their respective ladies, immaculately turned out in dinner jackets and long frocks respectively, made their way to the ballroom, where they were seated on a round table for 12. They knew none of their fellow diners but this didn't matter since their dinner companions were well schooled in that English art of “keeping the conversation going” without actually saying anything of real consequence. Besides, the memory suggests that they were all much older than our corporal and his guests; they were also probably amused that the “young ‘uns” possessed the requisite uniform, and that their table manners promised not to the scare the horses.

Details of the meal have faded, except for the consommé that was named after Evesham and was served in a double handled consommé cup. Given that this particular item of crockery had yet to make an appearance in the Airmen’s Mess, it gave our young couples a moment’s pause – spoon or an assured but refined double-handed lift to the lips? – but when in doubt, wait and watch the others. The others obliged and the rest of the meal passed off without major incident.

Following the loyal toast, cigars (and one of the Corporal’s Benson & Hedges) were ignited and Princess Anne made a short speech. She was wearing a richly embroidered red and gold approximation of what someone, somewhere, imagined women wore in the Seraglio. Most likely listed in the Princess’s wardrobe inventory as “harem suit”, it probably doesn’t get much of an outing these days. The fact that the Seraglio and the harem had disappeared with the Ottomans over 50 years before didn’t matter…. this was Turkey seen through a British designer’s eyes.

She spoke warmly of her visit, describing what she had seen, what had fascinated her – not surprisingly, the visit to the race course in Ankara seemed popular even it was “jolly cold” – and she ended with a general invitation for us all to “go back to her place to see the photographs”. Much laughter followed but then, of course, we all discovered we were far too busy to take her up on the offer. You won’t catch a Royal so casually casting out invitations these days, for fear that everyone would be knocking on the door next day.

After dinner there was dancing to a resident live band in powder blue suits that did its best to accomodate all tastes. Ballroom “standards” a la Victor Sylvester were interspersed with what we would call today “cover” versions of popular music of the time – it didn’t matter what it originally sounded like so long as it could be transposed into 3/4 time, cha-cha-cha (note the extra “cha”) or quickstep. Occasionally something crept in which the older guests dubbed a “pop” song causing them to flee for the safety of their tables. One such number was a very sedate rendering of Chubby Checker’s “Let’s Twist Again” which was about 10 years old at that time and, as even our young couple knew, was very passé for everyone outside the Dorchester ballroom. They knew that the real up to the minute song was ‘Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’ by Middle of the Road. Well, that or Benny Hill’s ‘Ernie - the Fastest Milkman in the West’ but you can’t dance to that.

The tombola was drawn but not by the guest of honour who had “slipped away” by that time. Incidentally, no tawdry selling of cheap raffle tickets from WHSmith’s here; each couple had a discreet number double printed on the corner of their souvenir programme, one of which was removed on the way in. First prize was a holiday for two in the emerging resort of Kuşadasi, the only package destination in Turkey at that time. Eventually, the last waltz was danced and carriages and the Mini Clubman arrived at the appointed time.

It is 13th May 2008. The occasion is the state visit of Queen Elizabeth II to Turkey, her first in 37 years. Our Corporal is also back in Turkey, 40 years after leaving, he is living in retirement in the South West of the country. He watches the Queen’s arrival on television; it is the culmination of several weeks of keen anticipation on the part of the Turkish media.

On her arrival in Ankara, the Queen was wearing a dark coloured suit with a green trim. Green is a significant colour for Islam and the shade of green on the Queen’s outfit did not go unnoticed. Nor too did the fact that the Queen was wearing gloves, even though the warm Spring weather made them redundant. The cameraman covering the arrival made a point of zooming in on the gloved royal hands clutching the royal handbag.

After being met by State Minister, Mehmet Aydin and other officials, the Queen went immediately to Anıt Kabır the mausoleum of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, founder of modern Turkey, where she laid a wreath and signed the visitor’s book. "It is an honour to pay my respects to Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, a much beloved friend of the United Kingdom and one of the great figures of modern history," she wrote. We know this because the ink was barely dry before the television cameras were scrutinising it.


During the arrival ceremonial at the Çankaya Presidential Palace, she inspected a guard of honour, accompanied by President Gül. She was escorted by a very tall three star General and and equally tall Captain with the result that the Queen look positively minute by comparison. (The Queen’s height seems to give rise to these things. In all the intensive briefings that precede a royal visit, it is surprising that no-one mentions the diminutive size of the Queen. A similar thing happened when she visited Washington in 1991 when the lectern was so high, only the queen’s hat could be seen peering above the bouquet of microphones).

Nevertheless she strode purposefully along the red carpet, bowing to the two national flags on the way. Prompted by President Gül, the Queen turned to face the honour guard and, reading from a tiny crib sheet, her unmistakeable clipped voice rang out with the words “Merhaba Asker” (Hello Soldiers). The guard responded in the traditional manner: an ear-shattering testosterone-laden shout of “Sağol’.

The Queen is practised at inspecting guards of honour and may, on occasions, stop and speak to one or two of the soldiers. Being shouted out by a whole guard of honour may well be a first for her. But then she may have remembered the cheers of “Sağol” from the crowds back in 1971.



During the formalities, the Queen may too have been reflecting on the long history of diplomatic ties between Britain and Turkey: over 400 years since her namesake Queen Elizabeth I sent the first British Ambassador to the Sublime Porte in 1582; and more than 250 years of a Turkish Embassy in London. Indeed, almost 252 years to the day, in May 1856 the present Queen’s great great grandmother, Queen Victoria, attended a ball at the Turkish Embassy in London.

In the evening Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh were guests of honour at a state banquet at the Presidential Palace in Çankaya. Speculation in the press had been frenetic about the event: there was even an hour-long programme on prime time television in which a former Turkish Ambassador to London and the programme’s young presenter sat around a simulation of the dinner table at the palace in dinner jackets going step by step through the evening. Would the President wear a dinner jacket? Would the Queen wear her crown? What would the President’s wife wear on her head? What would the table look like? Would President Gül, a devout Muslim, offer wine to his guests? What would they eat? What would they talk about?

In the event, the President did wear a dinner jacket and a silver bow tie, even though some had speculated that this conflicted with the view that dinner jackets are somehow un-Islamic; indeed even at his swearing in as President in 2007 he had conspicuously not worn the traditional “smokin”. The Prime Minister wore a dark lounge suit. The President’s wife Hayrünnisa Gül wore a specially designed Islamic headscarf, which is normally banned in public buildings and on state occasions.



The Queen wore a tiara, consistently referred to in the Turkish press and on television as “her crown” and of course her gloves. Seeing someone eating with her gloves on is probably a first for Turkey.

Back on the television programme, Mr Ambassador explained the protocol for the evening, including talking through a mock-up of the table setting. Close observation suggested that the cutlery for the mock up had possibly been recently borrowed from the television company canteen - we assumed the Presidential cutlery is not very cheap imported stainless steel. The ambassador explained how guests would know which cutlery to use for each course and would follow the rule of starting from the outside of the place setting. He assured the presenter that the President would offer red and white wine to his guests and whilst he would not drink alcohol himself, that he would not be offended by his guests’ consumption of alcohol in his presence.

As he explained, the menu would comprise a starter of stuffed Jerusalem artichoke hearts followed by an entrée of su börek (cheese filled water pastry). The main course would be Lamb cooked in a tandoor (or earth oven) with rice an aubergine puree and seasonal salad. Dessert would be a milk pudding and fruit rose baklava followed by Turkish coffee. As for conversation, the expert advised that conversation would remain non-controversial, on such matters as their children and families.

The ambassador did not mention that su börek can be somewhat challenging for some people. It is one of those dishes for which every Turkish mother is the world famous; however, as raw pastry is liberally doused in water in preparation, it can be quite doughy, heavy and sometimes rather raw. Those with delicate stomachs need to be cautious.

Music accompanied the dinner. Apparently at the request of the Queen, it was provided by the splendid Doğuş Youth Orchestra, which is made up of youngsters from conservatoires throughout Turkey. Our Corporal is a great fan of theirs, and never misses a chance to hear them play at the annual Turgutreis Doğuş classical music festival. The programme of music included, with impeccable diplomatic sensitivity, “Pomp and Circumstance March No 1”, better known as the British unofficial national anthem “Land of Hope and Glory”, by the English composer Sir Edward Elgar.

In her speech after dinner, the Queen spoke of her previous visit in 1971 and the happy memories she retained from that time. She also reiterated Britain’s support for Turkey’s bid to join the European Union and pointed to Turkey’s unique position as a bridge between East and West. The Queen’s speech was unusually political in tone, particularly when she praised Turkey as a “confident and dynamic democracy” and stating that “Turkey is as important now, as it has ever been” to the UK, mentioning the country’s “strategic location and its role in promoting secure supplies of energy”.

Even our Corporal got an unnamed indirect mention when she noted that “many thousand Britons have made their homes here”. (According to one piece of research, the “many thousands” amounted to 18,500 as at 2007). Her speech concluded with an invitation to the guests to rise and drink a toast “The President and People of Turkey”.

For his part, President Gül stressed that “the United Kingdom has become one of our most loyal supporters in Turkey’s march towards membership of the European Union”. A first in Turkey: the speeches after dinner were broadcast live on state television.

Earlier in the day the Queen had made President Gül an honorary Knight Grand Cross of the most honourable order of the Bath (GCB). The name derives from the medieval ceremony of creating knights, which involved bathing (as a symbol of purification) as one of its elements. As a holder of the GCB, President Gül would normally have the honorific title “Sir” and his wife would be addressed as “Lady” but since this is an honorary award, the titles are not used.

In a private meeting earlier in the day, President Abdullah Gül also remembered the Queen’s previous visit and noted that he, as Student Abdullah, was one of many in front of the Istanbul Beyazıt University waving at the Queen as she passed through Cemberlıtaş on her way to Topkapi Palace. ‘Such is fate that I am now receiving you as President” he said.


On the second day of the visit, the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh visited the historic city of Bursa, in the north east of Turkey. Once the Ottoman capital city, Yeşil (Green) Bursa was the last stop on the ancient Silk Road, which explains why silk was a mainstay of its economy for hundreds of years. These days, the city is famous as a centre of the textile industry and motor manufacturing.

Accompanied by the Turkish First Lady Hayrünnisa Gül and Zeynep Babacan, wife of the Foreign Minister, the Queen began her trip to Bursa by visiting the ancient Koza Han, the old silk cacoon market, built in 1492, which had played such an important role in the ottoman silk trade.



The Queen first saw a demonstration of the “ebru”, the 500 year old traditional Turkish art of marbling paper. In ancient times ebru was used to line rare books and, as Turkish Paper, was a major export to Europe. She tried her hand at drawing designs on water but members of the ebru group which our Corporal attends reckon she might do well to dispense with the white gloves and white jacket, it being a fairly messy art form. They also recommend that, if she is serious, letting go of her handbag whilst she is working on the ebru might help.

(However, dispensing with the handbag may not be possible since, according to a retired diplomat who was closely involved with the Queen’s visit back in 1971, the way the Queen holds the hand bag is a code to indicate to her entourage when she wishes to leave).

But she was in no hurry on this occasion. The Queen was escorted to her table where she and the Duke enjoyed a lunch of traditional Turkish cuisine. It has been said that the Queen particularly wanted to visit Bursa because she had heard the Iskender kebab (döner kebab laid on a bed of fresh pide bread, topped with a savoury tomato and yoghurt sauce) was excellent but this cannot be confirmed.

After lunch, whilst the Duke of Edinburgh was taken to see Tofaş, a modern car production plant in the city, the Queen and her fellow guests witnessed a fashion show entitled “Reflections of the Past in the Present” which features modern garments inspired by the designs of Ottoman times and culminated in models in specially designed gowns which reflected the flags of the two nations.

As the Queen left Koza Han the rain poured down, an echo of the fashion parade at the races 37 years ago in Ankara. She went on to witness a traditional shadow puppet show, native to Bursa and called Karagöz.

From here, her tour of the city took her to the Green Mosque where, head suitably covered with a light scarf and feet divested of shoes, the Queen listened intently to a recitation of the Rahman Sura from the Koran. The Queen was later presented with a copy of the Koran.

In the evening the Royal couple returned to Ankara.

On Thursday 15th May the royal couple flew to Istanbul where she visited a school, had a boat trip on the Bosporus, and attended an art exhibition before hosting a reception on the British aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious. After driving from the airport, they first visited the historical Kabataş High School for Boys, which has British boys on the school register. They examined projects by high school students which are part of a science project competition organised by the Middle East Technical University and the British Council.

The party then toured exhibitions, set out on the School terrace overlooking the splendid views of the Bosphorus, of Turkish carpets and culinary delicacies including Turkish delight, pistacio nuts and the famous ice cream from Kahramanmaraş. They also watched a short performance of Black Sea folk dances by the members of Moda Academy.

Meeting President Gül and First Lady Hayrünnisa at the Kabataş keyside, they boarded the yacht “Keyif Style” for a cruise on the Bosphorus. Later this moored at the Istanbul Modern Museum located in Tophane and the royal visitors visited “Yedi Şehrin Merceğınden” ‘Through the Lenses of Seven Cities’, an exhibition brought to Istanbul in collaboration with the Design Museum of London.

In the evening the Queen and Prince Phillip hosted a reception in honour of President Gül and distinguished guests on board the British aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious which was moored in the Bosporus. According to one Turkish newspaper, the day before the visit a fork lift truck being used on the deck of the aircraft carrier accidently fell into the Bosporus. No doubt this was diplomatically left unmentioned during the reception.

On the final day of the vist, a formal farewell and early celebration of the Queen’s official birthday took place in the grounds of the British Embassy in Ankara. (The Queen's official birthday has nothing to do with her real birthday which is on 21 April. Her official birthday is marked on the first, second or third Saturday of June in United Kingdom).

Our Corporal’s mind went back to a similar occasion in the same garden in 1966 when the traditional Queen’s Birthday Garden Party was taking place in the Embassy Gardens. This time, though, talk was not about the two standard subjects for this occasion, viz: “I think it’s going to rain” - unheard of in June in Ankara, or “Aren’t the roses lovely this year”.

No, much more exciting was the fact the entire cast of the then blockbuster film “Charge of the Light Brigade” were guests at the celebration. The Crimea scenes including the charge itself were being being filmed on the outskirts of Ankara and the Turkish cavalry formed the enthusiastic “extras” re-enacting the charge.

Under normal circumstances, this event was the Ascot of Ankara, a chance to wear the new hat and demonstrate one’s skill in the diplomatic art of small talk. But these were not normal circumstances and normal small talk was almost impossible. Invariably the eyes of the person you were talking with were scanning over your shoulder to see which of the “stars” might be in need of a bit of conversation...... or at least which one had the shortest queue of people hovering close by, waiting to pounce as soon as conversation lapsed for a couple of nanoseconds.

Trevor Howard and Sir John Guilgud were the generally accepted star attractions and had the longest queues. Trevor Howard found the whole event very convivial, but it was suspected Sir John would rather have been elsewhere. He took to wandering off into the corner of the garden to gaze thoughtfully at the sky, hand stroking his chin. He knew no-one dared interrupt a great theatre knight mid-revery. Venessa Redgrave and Jill Bennett were also popular as was the then rising star, David Hemmings.

However, our Corporal let the side down. He found himself talking to someone with a fine handlebar moustache who clearly was something to do with the film but Corporal hadn’t a clue who he was. It took one of his colleagues – a keen film fan – to hiss at him afterwards “You were talking to Harry Andrews” in a tone that left no doubt he thought the honour was wasted on Corporal.

Celebrities for the garden party last year, apart from the obvious presence of the royal couple and the Prime Minister and his wife, were somewhat thinner on the ground. David Beckham was there in spirit, in that the Queen brought along a football signed by Beckham. This was presented to a group of youngsters who played a short football match as part of a launch of a project to rescue street children. Hakan Şükür, Galatasaray’s star striker was there and the Prime Minister, a former footballer, briefly joined in the game.

Earlier the Queen viewed footage of her earlier visit when she attended the inaugural horse race for the Queen Elizabeth cup in 1971. She also planted an oak tree in the Embassy Garden, something she also did on her previous visit.

After the garden party the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh headed back to London.

Our Corporal hatched an idea of writing a blog about the Queen, and Turkey and the ways in which both had touched his life...... and then he forgot until he remembered again months later and then he wrote it. Funny how things keep coming round again.