The Ramblings Of Middle Aged Chlo

Written by on July 15, 2022

Day 1: having caught up on some sleep we headed to the pool where I soon learnt the all-inclusive drinks are a lot stronger than I had previously anticipated. Very quickly I had introduced myself to everyone and had made a load of new friends and even somehow acquired a free lilo which currently sits on my balcony. Thursday we go to Turtle Beach with my new found buddies, a DJ and producer and an Instagram Influencer who have named me ‘middle aged Chlo’ and compared me to Ricky Gervais, (not the first time in my life I might add) which I’m taking. This could be the start of a new career! The downside of this place is that we have to keep fighting off the Spa woman, who is desperate to get her hands on my body and keeps making herself comfortable on my sun lounger. I mean it’s probably the best offer I’ve had all day but I have a sneaky feeling she’s really just desperate to get her hands on my money!!!!

Day 2: Having largely completed a good job at hiding from Olga the Spa lady, she eventually got her hands on me! The thing is when you tell people you’re going to Turkey they usually respond by telling you that you absolutely must have a Turkish Bath. Nobody tells you what it actually involves! Firstly the towel that was kindly handed to me, which I though was to wrap around my middle aged spread, was laid on top of hot stone and then soaked with water which I then had to lie on. If you think bubbles are coming next, don’t be fooled! An actual layer of skin was scrubbed off me with what I can only describe as cactus rolled in cloth!!!! By this time I resembled some kind of skinless wilting saveloy sausage from the local chip shop! Next came the bubbles. This bit was ok apart from the fact that yesterday’s waterproof mascara that wouldn’t come off with make-up wipes, was now in fact coming off, into my eyes where I was temporarily blinded, eyes stinging and rolling around like I’d just been maced!!!! Following this an all-over massage. To be honest I would have just been happy with my feet being done. Feedback following the whole experience was that I am a bit stressed with lots of tension in my back and would I like to come back for 3 more sessions at £150?!!! 🤣🤣

Day 3: If your into designer gear but can’t actually afford it then Turkey is the place to go! If you’re all about sustainability then this post is definitely not the place to go! This is Delboy! His colleagues are also called Delboy as are his 2nd cousins 2 shops down the road and both his grandparents running the shop next door. Delboy is hoping to become a millionaire by this time next year; he is charming, he can sell, he knows all the chat up lines, and let’s face it there is something about Turkish men that is somewhat appealing. Delboy sells T-shirts, hoodies, tracksuits, bags and trainers. For example, you can buy a pair of Balenciagas (Balenciagas are trainers that look like someone’s cut off the bottom of a wetsuit and stuck soles onto) for a tenner saving you around £490, but you do need to know how to haggle!!! Luckily for me I grew up watching The Life of Brian so I know all about haggling! I spot a pair of Gucci trainers which Delboy offers me for £50 assuring me they are genuine knock off fakes and are much better than Primarni (Primark)! It’s important to go in with a lower offer so I’m straight in with £10! Delboy calls me a cheeky bugger and then proceeds to give me a sob story of how Marmaris is on fire and therefore he needs all the help he can get. I assure Delboy he is nowhere near Marmaris. I know this because I arrived at his shop on a boat, but I do offer him £15. After I’ve said I’ll go to his 2nd cousin Delboy two shops down we arrive at an agreed price of £20. I’m happy and Delboy is happy too. As I leave Delboy’s younger brother, also called Delboy, appears in front of me with a tip box presumably hoping to get the other £30 his elder sibling failed to gain!

 

Day 4: When you stay at an All- Inclusive Hotel there is an endless supply of food and drink. Breakfast here runs between 7.30-10.30am, lunch is 12.30-2.30 and dinner is available between 7.30-10.30pm. On top of this you can find numerous bars around the site serving up a plethora of snacks and other culinarily delights. As such it is extremely easy to fall into a routine which consists mainly of lounging around by the pool interspersed with frequent sampling of the local alcoholic delights and regular trips to the restaurant where consumption of around 39 courses takes place. This can only continue for a few days before, if you’re like me, you bloat out to the size of a 7 month pregnant woman, who is now spending her day either sat on a toilet (by this point any toilet in any location will suffice) or floating around like a beached whale on a lilo waiting to be reeled in. The perfect beach holiday body it is not! The stomach of an 18 year old who has spent the night clubbing and drinking far much more alcohol than I could ever manage it is certainly not. I was proper unwell let me tell you!!! With that in mind I decided to have a rest day and a little food detox. I missed breakfast and lunch. I did not touch the bar snacks and ate very little at dinner. It was around 12.30pm last night when the rest of hotel was asleep including his lordship next to me, that I decided I was hungry, so I did the only sensible thing to do at this point. I snuck out to the restaurant which serves ‘supper’ 11.30pm-1.30pm where I dinned alone and enjoyed a bowl of soup!

Day 5: The day for us passed with little drama. Other than visiting the Bazzar in Marmaris and returning with some more genuine knock off fake gear, I really don’t have a story of my own to tell today, therefore I will tell the story of our new friends. Below is a picture of the cabanas which you can rent for the day, your own little private space of tranquillity complete with a butler. It was late last night when my new pal sent me a voice message regarding the drama that unfolded, and to be honest I kind of wish I’d seen it. Next to my new buddies was a small group of holidaymakers who had also opted for a day of luxury, when a gust of wind blew their tables into the sea! Seeing as their phones and wallets had also blown into the waters below my super hero pal jumped in to rescue what she could. Whilst she was heroically pulling furniture from the sea, the two life guards were busy beating the shit out of one another before being pulled apart by the kitchen staff who had come to see what the hell was going on. This evening the story was retold to us again by some different friends who had also witnessed the unfolding drama. We might not rent a cabana whilst we’re here!

Day 6: Nature, my friends, is cruel to many women. As I’ve got older I myself have noticed this. For instance last year I attended the funeral of my ex mother-in-law. She had been hit by nature in a cruel way, not in looks but in her mind. The once charismatic and energetic woman had slowly turned into a shell of her former self as a cruel disease stripped away her memories of a life she had lived. A couple of years before she had asked to see me, so I went. After 15 minutes of chatting she asked me who I was, I explained. Her response was “Christ, you’ve got fat!” During the wake, my ex looking at my best friend politely informed me that she was the kind of woman he liked. Now let me emphasise here that I absolutely am in love with my husband, but the comment kind of hurt. I am all to aware that as we get older our looks slowly fade and as for our bodies, well let’s not even go there! Anyway I digress. As I’ve sat here I’ve noticed a few things. Young couples appear so much more happy to be on holiday than older couples. They frolic around the pool together, legs and arms entwined, laughing and looking longingly at one-another, soon disappearing back to their rooms for wild passionate love making. Older couples on the other hand are somewhat different. Women, myself included, float around the pool on their lilos, some looking like old brown leather, and others like myself looking like peeling red raw tomatoes. Occasionally the husbands get in and then proceeds a scene that somewhat resembles the human centipede. On day trips out the young turn up in just their bikini and plonk themselves on the sundeck of the boat whilst the older couples sit in the shade wondering what on earth to talk about now they’ve finally come on holiday without the kids for the first time in 25 years. The women wrapped up in some kind of floral get-up, their youth diminishing behind them sit and admire the cultural surroundings whilst the men look bored rigid, pissed off and quite frankly like they’re feeling sorry for themselves. To all you older men out there who think we don’t notice your sly looks at the younger ladies and that we don’t know you are imagining what it would be like to spend 2 minutes of passion with them before you can’t hold back any longer, remember this, nature and her cruelty got you too! To all you women out there, you are beautiful! I’m off to Marmaris to get my 1st tattoo!!!!

 

 

 

Day 7: In the olden days, well before I was thought of the people of this country placed their kings and VIPs in tombs cut into the rocky mountainside. This was to help their souls reach the pearly gates quickly. I’m not a king, nor am I a VIP, I certainly can’t see anyone bothering to carve a tomb for me, so it’ll be a much slower journey for my poor old soul! Obviously by now some ‘cheeky bugger’ has pilfered anything of any value from the tombs, and can currently be found in Marmaris, selling their new wares that some poor 3 year old has stitched and crafted together with their bare hands for a measly pay cheque of 5 pence for the week.
Turkish men love the phrase ‘cheeky bugger!’ In the markets, during the tours, in the restaurants and bars, they laugh their heads off like a group of 14 year olds on a French Exchange who have learnt a new swear word and now believe they are super cool, and possibly gangsters as they repeat the word, hand shoved down their Adidas tracky bottoms clutching on to who knows what, repeating the word time and time again! We were honoured though, we are special, for after an hour or so trawling the markets looking for a specific bag which had been offered to me for various prices between £35-£45, we walked into the final shop where I promptly told Delboy I would pay £15 and no more, take it or leave it! He took it! I got my bag but even more importantly not only did I get called a ‘cheeky bugger’ but I was also give the VIP title of ‘cheeky bastard!’ Perhaps they’ll carve a tomb for me after all?

Day 8: The lilo, an air filled floating piece of plastic, is an essential holiday item for those enjoying an ‘adults only’ holiday. The pool of screaming kids jumping onto their floating ice-creams and turd shaped floating devices has been replaced by middle aged bods desperately trying to cling on to their youth. Have you ever sat by a pool and watched us more mature humans try to get on or off a lilo? Some try to place their floating plastic straight in the water and try to get on from the poolside. The lilo rocks from side to side as we try desperately placing various pieces of our body fat evenly on the bastard thing, only to be tipped off at the moment we realise our left tit is bigger than the right tit, and thus the even balance is lost. Then there’s the others, this is a category I fall into. We walk, sucking our stomaches in, beside the pool, doing our best to look like a Bond girl by the water. We’ve already failed at this point! Down the steps into the water trying hard to look fabulous; that first dip into the water is always bloody freezing, we don’t look fabulous, we look like a bloody gurner as soon as the water hits our middle parts! The lilo floats and on the 2nd step we cock our right leg upwards, wrapping it around the middle of our floating plastic whilst gripping for dear life onto the hand rail. Clinging on tightly the left leg goes up, at which point the bastard lilo starts floating off! We are now left holding on by two hands to the rail, the lilo is 6 foot away with our big toes desperately still hanging on, we are going to make it my friends, except we don’t! We end up in the water, drenched and cold, looking like a dying fish spluttering and gasping for its last desperate attempt for air.
We’ve got through two lilos whilst we’ve been here. The first one given to us by a lovely couple Tatty Lomas and Jordan Tilstone. This is a lilo to be passed around couples as they depart this glorious paradise. I’m sorry guys, I accidentally burst it with my weight! The second we nicked off you Jodie Stubbings and Reece as you left the pool for the last time. We will of course pass this on to another poor unsuspecting couple when we leave who will probably make their variety of attempts to get onto the bloody thing!

Day 9: Day excursions are a pleasant way to meet new people and explore the local culture and surroundings. We opted on this day to try the Jeep Safari on the recommendations of others. On the tour you travel with around 30 other jeeps. We quickly made friends with the family in our jeep where 6 year old Rocko proceeded to spend the entire day either crying because he’d been told off or telling me off for waving my hands outside of the vehicle. A somewhat sweet child that soon made me glad we were staying at an adults only hotel. Thank God he had ‘Uncle Paul’ sat next to him! Uncle Paul, a huge bearded chap, covered head to toes in tattoos was an absolute hero, and a true example of why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover!
During the trip we were all presented with huge water pistols. I knew instantly I’d hate it because I’m a miserable bastard when it comes to things like this. Off we go, around 200 people of different nationalities bonded together by what I can only describe as shooting the bloody shit out of one-another! It was absolute hell!!! I hated every minute of it, certainly not my idea of a good time. On top of this there appears to be no rules to driving in Turkey. The only person on a moped I’ve noticed during this holiday to be wearing any form of headwear was wearing a sun hat!!!! This my friends was no way a pleasant trip! I’d found myself smack bang in the middle of The Whacky Races, little Rocko aiming his water pistol directly at the back of my head, Uncle Paul stood on his seat shooting everyone in sight, which ultimately meant that our jeep was subsequently being absolutely drenched! Happy I was not! Enjoying the excursion I most certainly was not! By all means if this is your idea of fun, then you must be bloody crazy, go, you might enjoy it? It’s certainly not an experience I’ll ever be repeating again!

So here we are again, the great British summer and a heatwave which will last about 2 days! I’m going to be completely honest here. Us Brits are pretty feeble when it comes to the weather. Having spent the last 12 weeks or so moaning and wondering where our summer is, it now appears the majority of us are moaning it’s too hot! Up down the country us common folk with hot tubs, now cold tubs because we can’t afford to heat them, sit squashed together like tins of sardines in the water. Overgrown men who haven’t got ‘cold tubs’ and are looking for the next best thing, fill their wheelie bins up with water and spend the day sitting them making their way through copious cans of Stella. Stereo typical I am not, I am merely pointing out observations. The news is full of the affects of heat and how people are just not coping, and we don’t cope do we. We carrying on stating it’s too hot, moaning and feeling sorry for ourselves, and when summer is finished, probably in about a week, we will all be moaning it’s too cold! How we struggle in the warm weather, yet the majority of us jet off to warmer climates when we can, searching for the warmth of summer, showing off our tans on our return, and boasting just how hot it is. Strange lot aren’t we?! And in about 12 weeks it will be cold again, and we shall not be able to afford to put our heating on due to rising costs once more. At that point my friends, I think we really shall have something to moan about!

Who ever said romance is dead is right!
Being married quite a while now when we go to bed there’s always plenty of action and rolling around. Firstly I’m too cold, so out come the blankets or whatever. As we have a super king size bed there is absolutely no chance of body heat, due to the three metres or so in between us, so I have to wrap myself in the duvet. He pulls it his end, I pull it back my end. Then the huffing and puffing starts as we really get down to business, pulling the duvet backwards and forwards between us. Now I’m too hot, blankets thrown off the bed, pop my feet out, but then remember the bogyman from my childhood is still hiding under the bed so promptly pull them back in again. I move to a diagonal position desperately seeking a cold bit of sheet, except my feet accidentally touch his legs, perhaps I’m about to experience a bit more action? Apparently not as now I’ve made him too hot and he’s wide awake thanks to me having legs that are like radiators. I turn over and sulk for a while. To be honest this doesn’t really work either as he’s now back asleep. I read a bit more on my kindle. After about 5 minutes I’m uncomfortable so turn over but obviously the light coming from the device has woken him up. A bit more panting and groaning. It’s all going on in our bedroom!
Turns out my pillows are made of rocks! I bash them about for a bit and work up a sweat before finally drifting off to sleep. It’s about 35 minutes later when I awake to find myself laying in ‘the wet patch’ thanks to my body that is unable to control its temperature, and I haven’t even started the menopause yet! And so another night continues.
In the morning there’s some movement from his side. This might actually be it folks! Time for some real action! I turn over to find it’s the dog, wagging his tail, nose in my face, thrilled to pieces to see me. Well I suppose at least someone is!

Some people are prone to coming across all sorts of things. I am one of these types who seem to come across a bit of action quite often. Today I started in my new role, and as part of my induction training I had to complete a fire safety module. This proved to come in quite handy this evening when I happened to come across a fire! Having only popped out the front I noticed some smoke. Being a curious type and the fact it was 10pm, and further deciding it was probably a bit late for someone to be having a bonfire, I did the only natural thing and went to investigate. Wearing flip flops is definitely not ideal upon discovering someone’s back garden has gone up in flames. Holding a cup of tea is also not ideal. Being in the care industry I am aware that this particular garden belongs to a 17 bed supported living property. I run, or try to run in my flip flops, whilst still holding my brew. I ring the buzzer whereupon I’m greeted by a couple of women who are totally unaware that their bush is up in flames. It’s important to remember that I’m talking about the garden bush here and nothing else! Having alerted them and informed them the fire brigade are on their way, I waddle back as quick as I can, still got the brew in my hand! I’m either going to single handedly extinguish the spreading flames with my cuppa or drink it. I haven’t quite decided at this point. Thinking I’d much rather drink it, I enter into a chain with some random. My job is to fill up the buckets of water from his kitchen sink and bring them to his front door. Far better he runs with the water, he’s not wearing flip flops. After a few buckets the real hero’s turn up with their hoses! Being a nosey bugger I decide I’ll now stay and watch with the hordes of people who have now appeared from inside their homes, standing around gawping whilst discussing this evening’s episode of Love Island. I eventually go back indoors ready to share my heroics with the better half. Appears he’s fast asleep having missed all the action, it also appears my brew has now gone cold!

0 0 votes
Article Rating

Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments

Live

Title

Artist

Live Show

Re:Load

1:00 pm 3:00 pm

Up Next

Re:Load

5:00 pm 7:00 pm

Live Show

Re:Load

1:00 pm 3:00 pm

Up Next

Re:Load

5:00 pm 7:00 pm

© 2021 by Mums Say Radio