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.

TERRY'S CHRISTMAS RAMBLE 2008

According to the Chinese calendar, it was the year of the Rat but for me 2008 was more like “Year of the Entire Zoo”. Wild boar in abundance, but also horses, camels and a particularly aggressive centipede all had a role in my life this year.

This summer the local wild boar were really determined to destroy the orchard. Maybe it was shortage of food, maybe the long hot summer – a summer so hot that I finally had to admit defeat and install partial air conditioning - but whatever the cause they really weren't going to give up ..... but I beat them eventually.

Sus scrofa is the Latin name of the little devil below (left). That’s not quite what me and landlord called it and by the way, this is not one of mine, I’m not so daft as to get that close. Every night brought wider and deeper craters around the base of the fruit trees.

Plan “A”, landlord’s invitation to the local Jandarma (army police) to come and shoot them was rejected; so we had to resort to my Plan “B". This could have been called "Back to nature" or the Desmond Morris Solution. *For those not old enough to remember, Dr Desmond Morris wrote a book called "The Naked Ape" back in 1967.

Pigs can’t see well in the dark but their hearing is pretty keen and they also have an excellent sense of smell. So a little tiny tinkling bell dangling from the branch of a tree might scare them off and, if that doesn’t work, the nuclear option: three old smelly t-shirts of mine – ones that I had recently worn whilst gardening – wafting in the trees. The Naked Ape was marking his territory! And before you scoff at this anti sus scrofa ploy, you might want to note that it worked! NO MORE PIGS**!

My neighbour has two horses. After the winter they were looking rather scrawny. So my landlord agreed that neighbour could graze the horses in his/my garden. “Oh well”, I thought, “It’ll make a change from the cows of two years ago and anyway the plants might enjoy a change of manure”. Of course, the usual condition applied: no snacking on the fruit trees. “No problem! They’ll only eat the trees if the grass runs out”, says my neighbour. “Oh, and by the way, the brown one’s pregnant”.

The trouble was no-one told the horses that they were not supposed to eat the fruit trees. I soon learnt what pregnant mares hanker for - nice young apricot tree leaves of course. So as soon as my back was turned expectant mum and her girl friend were off down to the orchard for a binge. What with their trespassing in search of forbidden fruit and the expectation of the patter of tiny hooves any time I was kept on my toes for a few weeks. In the end I got barrow loads of horse manure and my neighbour got Barney the foal.

I’ve mentioned before that entertainment here is a bit thin in winter but last January I saw camel wrestling for the first time – not high culture but certainly different.

It took place across the bay from me near a beach surrounded by hills.

Into this natural stadium came a lot of camels and even more people.. The scene was like a medieval encampment. Family groups grabbed their spot on the hillside, grandmas and children were parked, picnics were set out, campfires were lit and soon the air was pungent with the smell of camels and seared lamb.

Meanwhile the main event was coming together in and around the makeshift arena. Camels were offloaded from lorries, groomed, dressed and given their final tactıcal briefing. The animals are decked out with gaudy caparisons, beads and saddles; an intricately embroidered panel on the hump gives the owner’s details.

The bout begins with the two opponents being led round the ring, getting ever closer to each other. Each tries to stare the other down, the idea being to psych out the opposition. The camel minders enter into the spirit of this ritual too. Think weigh-in for a heavy weight boxing match.

Finally the two animals come together in the centre of the arena and they lock necks; the idea is to force your opponent’s head to the ground in submission. This necking – which bull camels do naturally during the mating season to show dominance in the flock (yes, it IS a 'flock' of camels, I checked) - goes on for about three minutes and is accompanied by an ear-splitting running commentary. At the final whistle, if neither animal prevails, there is an arcane points system which decides the winner.

The important point is that the camels do not get hurt. Some of these are working camels and as such are valuable. If things look like getting out of hand, the camels are restrained by minders who hold on to the ropes attached to the animal. By the way, it takes about 9 burly men to restrain a 900lb camel mid-wrestle. Just in case you were wondering.

Apparently, in art, the camel is symbolic of sobriety and dignified obedience. This symbolism doesn't extend to their owners, it would seem. Around the arena, camel owners use their camel transport (lorries) as mobile grandstands: the “refreshments” are served, bets placed and as the as the local aniseed flavoured raki takes hold, drunken folk dancing breaks out between bouts.

The headgear of choice, the equivalent of the Ascot dress code, is the bright orange “puşi”, modelled here by the neophyte camel fancier on the right .

In England at such outdoor events one would expect to find stalls selling burgers and hot-dogs Here they sell sausages made from camel meat. At first I thought this was a bit insensitive but then I got the idea. Part of the incentive for the camels to fight is the thought of what might befall them if they don’t. All that encouraging slapping round the face with the reins is not to get them worked up, it’s to make them look in the direction of the hot camel sausage stalls. “Fight or else… get my drift?” When it was all over, the camels get taken home on the back of a lorry….. the rest of us had to walk!.

And so to the centipede. It’s called a giant centipede... well, it was over 4 inches long, it had a hard brownish scaly shell and vicious fangs and it was in my bed. It crept in whilst I was asleep and presumably objected to me rolling over on top of it. By way of defence it sunk its fangs into my forearm. The result was a painful, swollen and inflamed forearm and hand which took four days to recover. A quick check on Google told me that only three people had died from what was called “centi-pede envenomation” in the past 100 years or so, and two of those were “questionable”. The third was in Turkey in 2005! Oh well, so that’s alright then.... I hope!

I haven’t done much by way of travelling within Turkey this year although my friend Metin and I went off on a fairly local tour which took us to the ancient city of Aphrodisias, then on to Selçuk and fınally to Didim.

Aphrodisias is one of the finest and most beautiful archeological sites in Turkey, dating back to the 2^nd century AD. Its name derives from Aphrodite, goddess of love, or as my guide book has it, the goddess of the three “f”s: fertility, fornication and fun. At the centre of the site is the Temple of Aphrodite and nearby a 270m long stadium which could seat 30,000 people.

From Aphrodisias we headed for Selçuk which features both the superb Museum of Ephesus and the.Basilica of St John.

Traditionally it is thought that St John wrote his gospel here in his latter years and that he is buried beneath the altar of the basilica. shown right.

One column is all that remains of the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. However there are two statues of Artemis in the museum. Depending on which guide book you read, Artemis is either multi-breasted as a sign of fecundity or the egg-like breasts are actually the severed testicles of the more fervent of her devotees. Either way, clearly not a woman to be messed with!

They say the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus was bigger than the Parthenon in Athens and that if you want to know what it must have looked like you should visit the huge Temple of Apollo at Didyma. So we did and it was…. huge! We stayed in a pension so close to the Temple that we were practically inside it – the view at breakfast was pretty spectacular.

The temple was both a sanctuary and a seat of the second most famous oracle after that at Delphi. Apparently the oracle sat in the inner temple and made her prophesies after drinking from the sacred spring. Doesn’t that just remind you of “Dog and Duck” on the average Saturday night. The surrounds of the temple are littered with huge marble fragments including a particularly impressive head of Medusa, she of the snake hairdo.

In the Spring, I visited England for the first time in about 4 years. I had to overcome my really intense dislike to the flying experience (not the plane, but all the nonsense of the airports) but it really was well worth it. My travels took me to Carshalton initially, and then to Pershore, Worcs; then it was off to Pembrokeshire; and finally back to Carshalton.

I had almost forgotten what a beautiful place Britain is. But I also felt just like a stranger there. I had to learn to ‘chip and pin’, what it meant to “go large”, absolutely not to even think of answering my phone in the car whilst driving, not to barge in the front of queues or let doors go in people’s faces, and most definitely never to take my eyes off the speedometer for fear of being caught on speed camera.

Staying next to the Ponds in Carshalton (left), was superb, with some super meals and a very memorable trip to Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club.

It was a delight to meet up for dinner with my Fairfield colleagues again; we just seemed to picked up where we left off 11 years ago.

Staying in Pershore, visiting Edward Elgar’s birthplace (left) and his grave, along with Malvern Priory and Pershore Abbey, was just a joy.

Returning to Wales, spending time in Pembrokeshire, going back to my old university (right) and the Arts Centre in Aberystwyth, and visiting St David’s Cathedral taught me what “hiraeth” really means .

Discovering grass cows and cows in the shape of spitfires in Hurstpierpoint was a wonderful surprise.

Lunch with my family and meeting new great nephews for the first time was wonderful and above all catching up old friends was a

huge, huge pleasure.

To all those who made my visit so happy - to Thya, Nicholas, Peter and Andrew, Michael and Michael, Val, Derek, Elspeth and Colin, Hazel and Janet and of course all my family – a great big, heartfelt thank you! My one regret was running out of time and not being able to see more friends but I won’t leave it so long next time and hope to catch up then.

On my return to Turkey it was time for our annual dose of culture. The superb Gümüşlük festival is also a summer school for young muscians and it takes place in the shell of a small Byzantine chapel in the fishing village of Gümüşlük. The venue is tiny, the seats are really uncomfortable and audiences usually overflow outdoors; swallows nesting in the roof provide a chirruping continuo and fly circuits of the church during loud passages.... but the music and the atmosphere on a balmy summer’s evening are magical.

The Ballet Festival takes place in the shadows of the 15th Century Castle of St Peter in Bodrum.

The discos of Bar Street and the call to prayer from the mosque are so close they seem to be backstage, but the ballet festival is still a real treat. This year’s festival featured three Turkish companies and two visiting companies from Spain.

The Turgutreis Festival is now in its 4th year and generally excellent. But save us from themed concerts. The theme was “Love of One’s Country” but the planners ran out of ideas after Finlandia and Ma Vlast. then it seemed to morph into “Composers for which our country is a bit famous” and eventually into “All Sorts of Music,not necessarily classical, for which our country is famous”. Which is how we came to endure 1½ hours of the Uruguyan Tango Octet of Hector Ulises Passarella complete with a pair of bandoneons and a pair of extremely odd tango dancers.

With the end of the Turgutreis festival we reached the end of our culture feast for another year, and so we go into winter mode where the most exciting event is the Camel Wrestling which will be with us again in early January.

With warmest wishes for a very Happy Christmas and a healthy, successful and peaceful New Year.

** A footnote written in early January. The Pigs are back! But I think I understand why. We've had lots of rain and the t-shirts have effectively been washed. Which to my mind confirms why they work!