Fethiye… does anyone read these anyway?

On the way to Fethiye, we made a timely stop at a gorge for a bit of slip ‘n slide fun – commonly referred to as white-water tubing. Unfortunately, the only thing white about it was my tan line. After an initial few non-threatening rapids, the stream petered out into an unenthusiastic, but ice-cold, trickle. Kodak moment of the lunch stop was forcefully beaching the instructor’s tube because he was a giant tool and certainly deserved his comeuppance. 10 points for use of the word comeuppance. The rest of the afternoon was spent despatching some poor Kiwis at table tennis.

After an initial power blackout at the hostel in Fethiye, which necessitated torch operated showers, we headed out to town for a traditional Turkish meal as Pasa Café. The chicken pide was not great, but the amount of free bread provided was sensational. Then we headed to the inappropriately named “Car Cemetery Bar” to drink, dance, dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge the night away.

A dangerous cocktail of cocktails and cliff faces meant one of the tour party was not in the best shape and almost teetered over the edge, literally. You know who you are! Fortunately, being the omnipresent wingman that I am, I was able to pull him away from the cliff’s edge. If you’re watching, remember you are my slave for life, as our South African mates would say. Disclaimer: previous comment is not intentionally discriminatory, but we actually did meet some South African chaps who referred to their maids as slaves! Please join us in the 21st century lads.