Tuesday, 15 August 2017

Dance


There are a few places Jake can't go so I will reclaim my blog to take you to the last night of Bodrum's International Ballet Festival.  Before the performance started, I mentally ticked off the 3 places in central Bodrum I have recently watched shows and concerts.
1. The castle theatre, where I was now sitting with a couple of thousand permanent and temporary Bodrum residents - Always atmospheric with the castle walls tastefully illuminated as busy Bodrum harbour life carries on outside.
2. The ancient theatre - Forget the fantastic panoramic view of the castle and town - the notion that bottoms have plonked on the seat under me for over 2000 years to watch theatre and song is enough. I wish the massive speakers would be relegated to history though.
3 The Mausoleum - ideal for a string quartet - if rather removed from its original purpose

The show was Los Vivancos - Born to dance. The talented Spanish brothers, whose Flamenco morphs into tap, martial arts and things I'm too old to know the names of, to a sound track from Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Leonard Cohen, Deep Purple and others who were born after I stopped noticing new music - and gives the audience the rare opportunity to watch and listen to flute and strings being played by musicians suspended upside down.  That these fit young chaps' frequent costume changes involve a lot of bare chests and tight leather trousers may add to their ability to sell out venues world wide, but their brilliant dance routines will fill Bodrum's theatres every time.

There are usually 7 - We were well entertained by 6 
Watch their official trailer here: 



Saturday, 12 August 2017

Brunch


I think I've made it plain over the past few weeks that I don't like being left behind. This poses a problem for the boss as big hairy mutts are not always welcome at eating establishments.  One place she knows I will always be welcome (About the chicken chase - It was a momentary lapse, I don't know what came over me - it will never happen again and thank goodness I came to my senses before any feathers flew) is Etrim Carpet Village. A short drive from our house, this is one of the best brunch venues near Bodrum.  Turkish breakfasts seem be getting bigger year on year -  a simple meal of bread, boiled eggs, white cheese, cucumber, tomatoes and honey has morphed into a table heaving spread of salads, pastries, 6 different cheeses, dips, fruit and fritters. Nobody is complaining of course - this must be the best spent 25TL in the area. 


Even the jams are getting exciting -  walnut, fig, olive (yes olive!),  quince, mulberry and lemon.


Belgin serves it all up without once implying that I am in the way or should be elsewhere.  


Halfway through the meal I noticed that we were being watched so I politely introduced myself. This involved a bit of barking which my other half always interprets wrongly but I'm not being unfriendly - just testing the ground.  


Daffy knows all about fame; he spends most of his day posing for walkers who pass by on the newly opened Lelegian trail and are tempted in for a drink, breakfast or a lecture on carpet making. We both decided to stay in the dappled shade and make it really difficult for the paparazzi to catch us having a chin wag.

February Brunch
Etrim Facebook Page

Monday, 7 August 2017

And down it came


All this blogging may have gone to my head, but I am becoming a mighty powerful canine. On a trip to our local reservoir, I took a few minutes out from sniffing and snuffling to contemplate the disaster about to hit our green and fertile Karaova plain if the Autumn rains miss another year. We are really down to our last reserves and it needs a prolonged period of steady rain to fill up this water supply. Another dry winter could mean the end of the market gardens that have sprung up in the 25 years since the dam was built.  I offered up a doggy prayer to the skies that those clouds would get big enough to dump a load of water on Mumcular.
I had to wait a few days but it sure worked. 

A storm front rushed through with a mighty wind that whipped all the dead needles off the pines into the pool (the boss wasn't pleased) and for a few minutes the thunder crashed and the lightening zinged through the trees.  It probably made no difference to the level of the reservoir but I hope it is a good omen for the winter.  


I had my two girlfriends Peri and Sevgi staying, so I did a lot of manly barking outside while the ladies sheltered inside. I hope they were impressed because I don't like getting wet and if they hadn't been there I would have stayed on the sofa.


Thursday, 3 August 2017

Gated.

Jake in pastels by Teoman Onursan 
It is hot today, I am not looking my best. I prefer to see myself in print in pastels. All a hot dog wants to do is lie quietly on the tiles under the fan and wait until the thermometer drops below blood temperature.  But I am not having a quiet day; the earth has been reverberating under me again and setting all the pictures and mirrors askew and the boss has called in the cavalry - the air is full of the teeth-grinding whizz of a saw, the hiss of a welding machine and the clang of metal meeting metal. She thinks she has put an end to my career as an escapologist.


I have an idea: I hear I am getting some canine company soon - with 8 legs, some nifty acrobatic shoulder stands might be the answer.  It's so hot though, I might just agree to stay at home - the last trip to Bodrum, stuck in traffic jams and walking on boiling hot pavements wasn't much fun. I won't let on though - I saw her hand over a big wad of cash for this iron work, I should at least let her think it's money well spent.