200 (+ 2) stupendous posts!

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I have finally made it to the 200 post mark, well 202 because I hadn’t checked my stats recently.  Again I am amazed that I have kept this blog up, that my brain has had 200 (and 2) separate thoughts that I felt were interesting enough, or funny enough or important enough, to be immortalized for all to read.  Forever and ever.  On the internet.

200

So let’s talk about a few of these tremendous, colossal, amazing posts.

The most popular post was, as expected, My Letter to Özgecan.  I was amazed at the response that I received from everyone to this post. Özgecan’s death sparked a lot of debate here in Mersin and in Türkiye regarding violence against women.  Three men are currently on trial over Özgecan’s murder and will face a life sentence if convicted of charges including “murdering with a monstrous feeling”.  Türkiye does not have the death penalty (although perhaps it should).

The post that caused the most outrage (and had me forcibly removed from one of those Turkish groups on Facebook) was, 10 Things I Hate About The Turk.  Written in jest it seems that this post upset every Turk within 100 miles and perhaps it can be said that my sense of humor does not translate into all languages.

Yesterday’s most popular post is Satan Called.  I agree it is “kinda” hot here in Türkiye at the moment although perhaps not really as hot as Satan would like.

I got on my high horse quite a few times over the past 200 posts but I also fell of my throne more than once .  For a bit of toilet humor enjoy Rage Against The Latrine.

The post that made me giggle was To My No 1 Fan.  I am always so happy to hear from someone who has felt any emotion after reading one of my posts.  The fact that this particular fan was bat shit crazy only adds to my enjoyment of the whole thing.

So enough about the posts.  Now a quick rundown of other stats:

692 subscribers is amazing (a big thanks to each of you) and 738 ‘likers’ on my Facebook page (go on click on it people – you know you want to).

Over 100,000 page views is phenomenal!  I mean that’s a big number.  That’s a lot of people that either stumbled onto this blog or intentionally went out looking for it (which is nice).

I’ve had some crazy search terms as well including: “naked turkish moustache men”.  I like that one, in fact, I am going to Google that right now and see what comes up.  (Edit:  DON’T GOOGLE THAT!).  “I am selfish” – I think maybe this is a running theme with my blog.  How about “Let’s have sex tonight” – hey, I just met you, and this is crazy but here’s my number … um, no thank you but it is definitely nice to be asked.  “Ball busting bitch”.  The triple “B” threat.  This one is also obviously about me.  I don’t know how Google sends these people my way but my definite favourite search term would have to be “mersin hate sad cookies”.  This one just shouts out my name doesn’t it?  I did actually also Google “mersin hate sad cookies” and had to scroll through about 30 pages of rubbish before I found myself so whoever that searcher was must have really, really – REALLY – wanted to find me!  And anyway just who hates cookies in Mersin anyway and why would someone who hates cookies in Mersin want to Google it and make their way through pages of crap before coming across my page?  And just precisely why are the cookies sad?  Who made them sad?  Who the feck are these people that make the cookies sad?  To hell with them!

Finally I have received so many lovely messages from you guys.  I want to thank you all.  If you do ever find yourself in Mersin please look me up, well unless you were the one that Googled “mersin hate sad cookies” anyway.

Here’s to another 100!

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So this just happened …

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Daughter had me edit this post as I had originally said there was 312 water balloons.  She explained to me in earnest that I should not lie on the internet.  There is in fact 450 water balloons!  So starting now …

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Daughter just returned from the market with 450 water balloons.  The old bloke at the market must have thought she was quite mad.  450 balloons seems a like a lot of work what with the filling them and then the pesky tying of the knots.  I don’t envy that job!  But she seems intent of arming our house – just in case.

water-balloons

Me:  “Just in case of what?”

Daughter:  “Zombie apocalypse”.

Me:  “In the Village?”

“Daughter:  “Sure.  I mean it makes sense.  Around here I sometimes wonder whether it’s already started.”

I just spat out my mouthful of red!  So wasteful!

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Do you ever shut up?

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You know that thing where you realize you are talking too much, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from talking, and then you just keep talking and talking and talking and in your head you keep telling yourself to shut the feck up but somehow your mouth doesn’t get the message and then you start to panic because you realize how annoying it must be for the other person but you just keep talking and talking and talking? Well this happens to me all the time and I really need to make it stop!

pap smear

This time my verbal diarrhoea happened while I was having my pap smear.  I hate having pap smears, every woman hates having pap smears.  It is a well-documented fact. I put them off as long as possible which is probably how I got myself into this mess in the first place.  Ladies – don’t neglect your pap smear!

Anyhow, so living in Mersin is, of course, difficult when there is no one who speaks your language so visiting my gynaecologist is a great excuse to blab away in my mother language and know that at least one person understands me.  My gyno was down the other end nodding his head so I think he was listening, actually I don’t even care if he was listening, but told him all about my trip to London and The Turk’s operation and even my dolmus ride into the city.  I was just about to start on my next topic of conversation (whether or not to change Daughter’s school) when he shot his head up over my flabby stomach and said, “Do you ever shut up?”

Oh my!

That seemed a little harsh from the man who sounds like a half crazed vampire when he laughs but … whatever.  I lay meekly in silence trying to wish myself away pretty much anywhere else while he finished up and wait for the order to hop off the examination table.

Dead set.  I swear.  This is exactly what he sounds like!

We left it with these words, “You are more difficult to examine than a Turkish woman”.  Well thank you sir, I take THAT as a compliment!

Oh and for those wondering, the tests came back fine.  I need to go back more frequently for check ups (and I will) but right now I am feeling fine.

The Turk really is a bit of a prenses!

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Back for less than a day and The Turk is already driving me to distraction.  For those of you who know The Turk personally know that he is one of those people who must be doing something – anything – constantly.  Being an invalid really doesn’t work for him HOWEVER being a fecking prenses when he is hasta is something that he does with great success.

Heart

So right now The Turk has a dilly of a predicament.  Daughter and I have arrived home from London with 3 suitcases that need to duly be unpacked, cleaned and then put away until next time.  So this is where the predicament comes in.  Does he tidy up the mess that Daughter and I leave in our wake or does he lie on the couch clutching his pillow to his chest and yelling “Allah” to anyone who will listen and let Daughter and I tidy up at our own pace?  The mess is sending him quite deli but as the doktor has told him he cannot carry anything more than 1 kilogram he is unable to really do anything about it – well other than complain that is – so the mess will need to wait until I have finished catching up on the finale of Game of Thrones. (Edit – Holy crap Jon Snow)!

He is working that 1 kilogram rule pretty well to his advantage as well.  He cannot carry any groceries.  He cannot pick up My Hurley Dog’s panda chew toy.  He cannot pick up that bread crumb that fell from his mouth.  Yes peeps literally everything falls under the 1 kilogram rule in accordance with his Doctor’s orders (and yet he still sneaks upstairs for a cigarette and thinks I don’t know).

For a bit of fun I am currently conducting an experiment of great scientific importance.  Currently residing on my bedroom floor is a small piece of paper, no more than about 3 centimetres in length.  This innocent piece of paper is literally driving The Turk quite insane.  He wants to pick it up.  He tries to pick it up.  He screams at the paper but the paper choses to wisely ignore his stream of insults.  I am taking bets as to how long that piece of paper lies on the floor before The Turk gets on his hands and knees and retrieves it.  I could, I mean I guess I could, you know, pick.it.up but … nah, it is definitely more entertaining this way.

With Daughter and I were away The Turk obviously drove the rest of the family up the wall with his demands as they were so happy to see us when we arrived home.  Last night my sister in law literally cried when she walked through the door!  I believe that he was quite the bastard to all of them and I must say that I was so glad that we have been away though the worst of it as I don’t think our relationship would ever have survived that kind of behaviour!  In case you are wondering I was with The Turk during his stay in the hospital but after discussions with both The Turk and his family (and taking into account our recent less than stellar relationship) we decided is was better for all concerned (and my sanity) that Daughter and I continued with our trip to Londra.

I have said before that The Turk is morphing into his father and now having spent the past 24 hours in his company I declare that I am absolutely right.  I remember watching my mother in law arguing with her husband and I used to think it was hilarious.  She would yell and he would ignore her.  Now I realise that what was really happening was that I was looking at my future.  I yell and The Turk ignores me.

Feck my life!

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Seriously speaking though The Turk had his by-pass surgery at Aci Badem Hastanesi in Adana.  The hospital was very clean, The Turk had a private room and he himself said that the standard of treatment was as good if not better than his stay in hospital in Sydney.  I understand (although you should confirm this yourself) that even though the hospital is ozel (Private) they will deal with cancer patients AND heart patients for next to nothing.  The Turk spent a grand total of 13TL for the initial appointment (yes we also have private cover).  There are Aci Badem hospitals all around Turkiye.

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*Knock, knock* Hello?

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You might not have noticed but I haven’t posted for a while.  Why have I been so neglectful?  Why, oh why, have I left you, my dear followers and friends, hanging for the next episode of action packed drama that is living in Mersin?  Well to be honest I haven’t been particularly happy recently.

The Turk and I have been fighting – a lot – and not just a little scrap here and there, no, we have been having a few smack down whoopings that a stoned Hulk Hogan atop a wrecking ball could be proud of.

hulk hogan

Yes.  Seriously.  This is the current synopsis of our relationship.  I am not sure if I am Hulk Hogan or perhaps the wrecking ball and I never thought I would see the day that I had to quote Miley Cyrus but over the past weeks and months all The Turk has really achieved is to “wreck me”.

I am not really sure where it all began but since The Turk returned from Australia (after his heart attack) he has had difficulty settling back into the village way of life.  He has found fault in everything and everyone (including me) and has made me feel that our relationship is irretrievably broken.  To add insult to injury, and despite the fact that the first heart attack should have scared him straight, he has not changed his diet or his habits and in early June was admitted into hospital to have a triple by-pass.  Officially he now resembles Frankenstein’s Monster.

Adding to these current woes and health issues is me being diagnosed with “abnormal cervical cells” which has required treatment.  My doctor speaks pretty good English, although when he laughs he sounds a little like a hyena on crack, but I am relatively confident with the treatment that I have had and I go back next week for another check.  Fingers crossed that the treatment destroyed all the cells and nice, happy, non-cancerous cells have grown in their place.

There have been a few moments over these months that I have sat on the couch in tears and a few moments where I have wanted to pack my bags and flee back to Australia but I cannot because Daughter is so happy here (although I need to update you guys on her most recent boy drama when I get a chance).  Being that I am officially (yes it is officially) the Best Mum In The World I also took her to Londra in June for her birthday to a “5SOS” concert.  For those of you who have no clue what a “5SOS” is you should Google them because apparently Daughter is going to marry either the Lead Singer (who I suspect could be a world class tool) or the Bass Player (who reminds me of a dopey puppy).  The concert itself wasn’t too shabby, they reminded me of a very young INXS, although a little more polished than the INXS that played at Manly Vale Hotel back in the 1980’s.  I also got some shopping done in Londra so it was a pretty successful trip for both of us.

5sos

We also chuffed off to Rome for a week which was lovely (although the restoration work on the Trevi Fountain is STILL NOT finished!  How fecking long does it take?) and finally for a break in Istanbul.

As you can see there should be quite a bit to blog about but my sadness and health concerns have unfortunately overtaken my mental functions and writing proved very difficult over the past weeks.  I will be back to writing a little more often and hopefully I will return to a more comedic writing style which is how I would normally feel.  I am also going to re-jiggy the blog a little bit as I have had a lot of requests for more touristic information on Mersin (as there is limited information out there) and its surrounds so if I go off-line in the near future don’t distress it is merely my ridiculous attempts of navigating the web page tools (which will no doubt prove to be a little difficult for my pea-sized intellect).

And in case you are wondering yes The Turk is still smoking!

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Kedi Update No. 3

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Well, it’s official.  I have morphed into a Turkish Cat Lady (as opposed to Crazy Cat Lady).  I am thinking of getting myself some of those baggy village pants (which would be incredibly comfy I don’t doubt) and, if you are looking for me, I will be found walking around The Village being followed by stray cats (a la The Pied Piper) hoping that they will be brought into the inner sanctum.

The Turk and I still feed as many strays as we can but winter was harsh here in Mersin and we lost a few of our regulars (sadly that included Stanley) but now that spring has sprung we are overwhelmed with kittens and, honestly, I am not sure how we are going to continue to feed them all. DSC02147

Right now, in total, we have 19 kittens!  Yes that’s right.  A ridiculous number I know.  Most of them are terrified of us humans and won’t come near us but Mama being so domesticated all her kittens come running when we come downstairs each morning.

My Hurley Dog aka The Terminator is fascinated with the kittens but due to his desire to kill and maim we have to keep a close eye on his shenanigans because although I forgave him for killing the chicken I’m pretty sure I won’t forgive him for murdering a kitten.  The dog spends his day in the garden stalking the kittens and taking the occasional nip while the kittens spend their day hunting the dog and then running back to the undergrowth if he starts to chase them.  It works out well for all of them.

In the interim, the vet came the other night to check everyone out – well as many as he could catch anyway.  A few of the kittens appear to have fluey symptoms however they are still too young for medicine so we have to wait and hope that they pull through.  The vet has diarised coming to collect Mama for her to be de-sexed as well however the other cats all ran when they saw him so I think it might be up to The Turk to capture and deliver the last few mothers to him over the course of the next 5 weeks. Our hope is that we find homes for as many of the kittens as we can and, with the remaining mother’s de-sexed, we might be able to control the population (at least for now anyway).

DSC02176

And for those of you wondering My Stairwell Cat, Evil, has now fully infiltrated our home.  If she is stealthy enough she might get to stay the night but generally, she arrives each morning and waits patiently at our front door.  She will then spend her day sitting on the terrace in the sunshine or on the couch where, as you can see, she makes herself very comfortable indeed.  After an evening meal, Evil will disappear into the night with My Kedi Cat for their nightly entertainment.  Seriously I have to wonder what these two get up to because they come home covered in dirt, cobwebs, caked in mud and, on occasion, a gluey substance that I have had to cut out of My Kedi Cat’s luscious long hair.

My life *sigh*

And just because kittens are so cute one more photo:

DSC02162

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Shiny New Expat

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I met a straight off the plane, never taken out of the package, New Expat recently.  So new that she had that new car smell.  Her excitement was palpable but, unlike a case of the measles, it was not contagious and I found myself talking down the same things that I talked up when I first settled here in Mersin.

new expat

New Expat spoke of her love for her husband’s close knit family.  I found myself rolling my eyes and suggesting she should find an apartment as far away as she could get from her new extended family unless she wants them on her doorstep all day, every day.

As New Expat made cay (successfully I might add) she spoke of the more relaxed Turkish way of life.  I laughed and suggested she take a trip to the Emniyet and then let me know how she feels.

For lunch New Expat put out an impressive Turkish spread.  She explained that she had taken Turkish cooking lessons back in the UK so she could impress the in-laws.  I suggested that she might like to join a few of us for lunch at Marina in the coming weeks where we all go for our European food fix.  Her reply?  “I could eat that back at home.  I am here to eat Turkish food.”  Inwardly I groaned.  Every day.  Every day.  Every day.  Here Turkish food is just food.  Every day.

By the time I left New Expat’s shiny new home I felt like a Dementor sucking all the New Expat happiness out of her.  Will I ever see New Expat again?  Doubtful as she is probably still trying to erase my unintentional but still horrid behaviour from her memory.

Yes I have lost that glow of a new expat and what were at first little irritations are now an open sore that needs treatment – STAT!

And it is not just me that feels that stench of a jaded old expat (do we have a stench?).  One of the first people I met here when I arrived in Mersin was a school teacher from Northern Ireland who was working at one of the private schools here.  Her excitement about living in this city synced with mine and we threw ourselves into our new lives, a little scared, quite naïve but ready for a little madness.  Well that school teacher is counting down the days until the end of term.  She has had enough and is leaving Mersin to return home to Northern Ireland, happy to close the door on her time here.  Crazy Mersin has broken her.  Will she come back to Turkiye?  Yes.  Will she come back to Mersin.  Doubtful.

Yet other expats are long termers, going on 15 plus years.  Right now, today, I cannot fathom the idea of being here for another 15 years.  Please God not that long but as The Turk put it – where would you go?  Back to Australia the land of my peeps?  Yes, please, but of course I can no longer afford to live in Sydney and I certainly don’t want to return to 50 hour weeks so I would probably have to move elsewhere.  But where?  And I would be starting again.  House.  Job.  Friends.  I would be an expat in my own country.

So my question to you today is how do you keep that new car freshness living in a city that has more problems than solutions, where your opinion matters little other than perhaps an amusing anecdote to the locals?  Do you have any advice for this miserable expat? Let me know ‘cause I really need some wise words.

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Mersin Deniz Park

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Two posts in one day!  Wowza!

But wait … oh no she is getting on her high horse again *rolls eyes*.

mersinpark

Mersin Deniz Park was opened to much fanfare two years ago at a cost of 35TL million.  The park was approved by the previous Büyükşehir Belediye CHP and has been enjoyed by tens of thousands of people (including myself and my family) since its opening.

The new Büyükşehir Belediye (MHP) has now decreed that the Park was built illegally, has violated many marine laws, was built on landfill and finally the money spent was not in the best interest of the public.  This week demolition work began to remove the illegal structures (no doubt at a huge cost to the public as well).

The Büyükşehir Belediye has also instructed the demolition of many of the small cafes and çay houses on the waterfront declaring them illegal structures (and don’t even get me started on the removal of the outdoor area of one of my favourite eateries Leman Kültür – also an illegal structure).

In a previous life I worked for Environmental Planning Lawyers back in Sydney.  I understand better than most here in Mersin why approvals are necessary and why laws are put in place.  What I cannot understand is why the Büyükşehir Belediye decrees illegal work for previously approved structures and the removal of such structures that generate much needed funds for the Büyükşehir Belediye (and of course the loss of jobs for many hundreds of people).

Well done you gooses.  Well done.

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Heaven and Hell

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Daughter and I recently did a long weekend road trip.  4 days of driving with no real destination in mind so the next few posts will no doubt be giving you some of the highlights of our trip.

Originally we were heading towards Goreme to go ballooning but a last minute decision was made to go west as it was hot and Daughter wanted to swim so we started driving west towards Alayna going via Kizkalesi, Narlikuyu, Silifke and finally ending our road trip in Yesilovacik also known as “literally the middle of nowhere”.

Credit: Wikipedia

Credit: Wikipedia

Just past Kizkalesi is a small tourist sign – Cennet ve Cehennem (Heaven and Hell).

“Oh let’s go check out the caves”, she said.  “It’ll be fun”, she said.  Well SHE needs a kick up the ass and by SHE I mean ME because it was MY silly idea.

Cennet ve Cehennem are actually two large sinkholes and, as someone who knows little about sinkholes I’ve got to say, they are pretty huge.  I mean I have seen sinkholes on television where houses are swallowed up in Florida or that big one somewhere in Mexico (I think) that took out a whole neighbourhood.  They seem to be popping up everywhere these days thanks to fracking and all sorts of other less than stellar reasons but Cennet and Cehennem are natural sinkholes that have been there for thousands of years.

hell alyssa

We started off walking to Cehennem because Hell seems more likely in my future.  It is only a 5 minute walk up a small incline.  A pleasant walk on a pleasant spring day.  The sinkhole itself is masterful and Mother Nature has definitely outdone herself.  The opening is small but has a depth of 128 metres.  I felt quite nauseous standing on the edge but Daughter being Daughter threw her legs over the side to take a photo to message to The Turk (just to “freak him out”).  Don’t worry though there is a barrier around the edge – you are quite safe.

Interesting titbit – according to mythology, after Zeus defeated the hundred-headed dragon named Typhon he kept him in Hell for a while before imprisoning him under Mt Etna.  Good to know.

After visiting Hell we started off towards Heaven.  After the first 50 or so steps we passed a group making their way back up.  A mixed bunch but the one thing they all had in common was that they were all bright red from exertion.  As they puffed past me I murmured geçmiş olsun (get well soon).  I got a wave and a groan – it was clear they were all too exhausted to speak (or couldn’t get their breath).  Crap!  What am I doing?

Daughter ran off ahead leaving me to waddle along at my own pace.  By the time I reached the small chapel (at about 300 steps) it was clear that I was in over my head (literally because I must have been about 100 metres down the sinkhole at this point).  I started wondering whether they could airlift my body out of here or maybe some kind of winch system set up behind the scenes because I didn’t know how I was going to drag my ass up all these stairs.

heaven 7

The chapel itself was apparently built by a believer by the name of Paulus in the 5th or 6th century.  You really have got to give credit where credit is due.  Paulus must have had some major love for Saint Mary because he would have had to carry those stone blocks down the 300+ stairs to get to the landing.  Kudo’s to you Paulus.

We continued past the chapel to reach the mouth of the cave.  This climb is a little tricky now as the as the stone stairs were quite slippery from precipitation.  The cave itself was a lot cooler and quite a reprieve on a hot day.  Daughter ran off attempting to reach the back of the cave to find the source of the stream that we could hear however that proved to be impossible while I chose to sit on a rock and contemplate my new life in the cave (because like I said I was pretty sure I would never be able to drag myself back out of the sinkhole).

heaven over it

After spending 30 minutes of exploring the cave it was time to leave.  Standing at the mouth and looking up, well I’ve got to be honest, it was going to be a monumental task.  All up there is 452 stairs to reach the top!  452 stairs!  But I did it and without the need of the imaginary winch too.  We passed a group on their way down and, seeing my red faced and fatigued self, said “geçmiş olsun”.  I groaned and waved while Daughter continued to jog up the stairs (sometimes I hate that kid).

Heaven 9

Now in future when I get a hair brain idea like visiting caves anywhere I will make sure I do a little research first and it will go a little something like this:

Janey:  Is there 450+ stairs in my foreseeable future?

Janey:  Umm … yep.

Janey:  Feck my life!

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Need to know:

Cennet ve Cehennem is off the D400 at Narlikuyu.  There are no buses to the site itself so you will need to either drive or walk.

Entry fee is 10TL (5TL per cave).  Asthma Cave is 3TL.  Toilets are 1TL.  Parking is free.  There is the possibility of a camel ride around the carpark at a negotiated price.

There is a café at the top of Heaven as well as a few tourist shops.  There are many lokantalar along the road up to the caves serving typical Turkish food.

Oh and take water.  Lots of water!

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Driving Miss Janey

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I recently started driving here in Mersin having purchased a brand spanking new, beyaz (of course) Nissan Juke.  I am finally an independent woman and can get out and about without having to catch 1, 2 or more dolmuş.  This has the added bonus of being less likely to be sneezed on, kidnapped or generally treated like a second class citizen while travelling on the public buses here.

Speed-Limits

Because I am a kind and thoughtful blogger I have put together a few helpful hints for those of you who intend on driving here in Türkiye:

  1. When driving on the road use your horn – all the time. It seems that we have been wrongly instructed to only use the horn sparingly.  Fallacy!  Use your horn to show how happy you are, or how sad you are, or even how horny you are (get it.  horn/horny).  Rarely the horn is used to in agitation.  Better to use your horn than your brakes (after all the horn will last longer).
  2. Pedestrian crossings are not actually for pedestrians. These black and white zebra style markings on the road is in fact a sign for us, the driver, to speed up.  If some fool does try and cross my best suggestion would be to aim right for him.  This has a two-fold effect.    You get where you are going faster; and 2.  You help him get a cardio workout.  In fact you are doing him a favour and he will no doubt smile and wave to you when he reaches the other side of the road.  This has happened to me often.  The Turk tells me it is not waving but that is neither here nor there.
  3. When at a red light you are at liberty to disregard such red light.  Instead you should think of your car as a chess piece and it is now your move.  Manoeuvre your chess piece to the front of the lights so when the lights turn green (or orange) you can shoot out like Mario Andretti.  If you do not play chess then be prepared to start using that horn (as mentioned above) and hit it as soon as the light change to show how happy you are.
  4. Left or right side of the road?   Either.  Whatever.
  5. Feel free to ignore those silly signs on the side of the road. You know the ones 50, 70 or even 120.  These signs are not actually the speed limits they are signs that indicate how many pedestrians have successfully made it to the other side of the road (true!).  The numbers never change because making it successfully across is a pipe dream.
  6. Another rule that was drilled into us while we were learner drivers and that should be totally disregarded here is using your mobile phone. In fact I stress to you that you must use your mobile while driving.  Multi-tasking is a skill that should be utilised by you.  I find that while driving you merely point your car in the direction that you want it to go and continue your chatting on your mobile or texting your cousin.  Allah will get you to your destination.  Or not.

Bonus hint – Seatbelts are an optional extra.  Merely a suggestion by the manufacturer.  And if you, like me, have a new car with that pesky alarm warning you of your impending death should you not wear your seat belt merely lock the seatbelt in place before you sit down (as suggested to me by my brother in law).

* Disclaimer:  Some days my humor is lost on The Turk and so, on his advice, I disclose that this post should not be construed as instructions on the driving laws here in Türkiye or in any other country.  You should always adhere to road rules in the country that you are visiting or live in and here in Türkiye “road rules” means “no rules” LOL!

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