Waiting For The Bus!
This article is inspired from a ‘girlie’ day out a few days ago with my friend Nesé. We had one of those wonderful days just wandering around the bazaar in Marmaris buying a few necessities and a few bits that we just couldn’t resist! Followed by a late lunch we headed for the supermarket to finish off our lists. What was nice was that Nesé has a car, so the whole day was made a lot easier than going on the village bus (dolmus), especially as in the winter they run less frequently.
Anyway, on the drive home, I was telling Nese my stories of what I had seen whilst waiting for the bus by the Marina in the next village, where I had been spending a lot of time over the last few months. As I told one story we would chat about something else and then I would say, “When I was waiting for the bus…………” and give her the details. Just as we were entering the village I was on my last story and she started laughing so much, she could no longer drive. She tried to move forward again and had to stop as all she could see in her mind was my description of the event.
I promised her I would write some of my ‘Waiting for the Bus’ stories to share on my blog, so here they are. I hope you enjoy them as much as she did!
Firstly, I have to describe where I wait for the bus, so you have an idea of the setting. It’s a road cut through the mountains, and you just wait where you like, as there is no such thing as a bus stop. Behind me, down the mountain, is the sea, and in front of me are the mountains, climbing up to a great height. Sometimes standing there I would watch eagles circling for prey, or count up to 80 safari jeeps on their way back to Marmaris, all which helped pass the time while I was waiting for the bus.
One day when ‘I was waiting for the bus,’ I heard lots of cars tooting and watched as a village wedding car approached (covered in ribbons) followed by guest cars. Two scooters raced past the lead car and made them pull up abruptly. Suddenly the passenger on one of the scooters rushed off the back and ran to the wedding car, pulling a hand gun from the back of his trousers. Was he the jilted lover of the bride?
I held my breath but he just said a few words through the window of the car, ran back to his scooter, and everyone drove off. The Turks get very excited at village weddings and guns are often let off after the ceremony, but why he was brandishing his gun, I could not understand. I watched them all drive away none the wiser. In fact, while I am writing this story, there is a village wedding here tonight with lots of music and singing, and guess what, they just fired off their guns!!
Another day when ‘I was waiting for the bus,’ I saw my goat man. I have to explain that on previous waits, I had seen the goat man come and collect his tethered goats off the side of the mountain to take home. He would usually just hold the rope of the first one, and the others would follow sedately. Anyway, this particular day, the goats must have been grazing further round the bend out of view. Suddenly, I saw about 6 goats running up towards me, not stopping, but disappearing round the bend in the road. Then I saw my goat man trying to catch up with them; no chance I am thinking.
But, not to be outdone, he flagged down a passing scooter, jumped on the back, gave me a quick wave and was probably saying to the driver “ follow those goats!!!!” A few days later, I saw him again with his little herd behaving themselves, so their dash for freedom was all in vain!
And last but not least, my final story of when ‘I was waiting for the bus.’ I have to warn you, this one is not for the squeamish! There I
was, waiting in the sunshine for my dolmus, when I noticed a car pull up just a few feet away from me. Out climbed a very village style middle aged couple and the woman was holding a cardboard box. I realized that whatever was in the box was alive and making a lot of noise. The couple were having a heated conversation, when suddenly the man took hold of the box and pulled it open to reveal a chicken. It seemed to only take a few seconds before he had pulled out a knife, cut the chicken’s throat, put it back into the box, and they drove off! You can just imagine this poor bird making too much noise on their journey, the wife wants to get it home and the husband has threatened to end its life if it does not shut up! The husband won!!
This is the story that had Nese crying with laughter on our drive home. She said it was the way I told the story and she could see it in her mind and how I told her he had put it back into the box!! This particular story is being retold to all her friends at the moment , and the other stories they will read for themselves. I hope you have enjoyed my little tales and I will let you know what else I see soon.
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