The Landlady is pleasantly surprised
After our ‘seat of the pants’ dinner party in my little Turkish house, I was advised by all my guests to get rid of my oven and buy a new one, as I might come back and find that the oven had accidentally incinerated the house. I had only intended to buy a washing machine on this trip, but in fact ended up buying a washing machine, a new fridge and a new cooker. I am now on first name terms with Hakan, the man in the local white goods store and suspect that when he sees me coming through the door, he wants to run away.
The service you get when you buy anything in Turkey is quite astounding, when you’re used to the service here in the UK. I went and chose my washing machine at 3pm. My new friend Hakan said it would be delivered after 4pm. Even the fact that I didn’t know my address did not ruffle Hakan, who intimated that even if I did know my address, no one would know where it was anyway. I was told to meet the delivery men at the local Tea House at 4pm and escort them to my house. None of your British hoo-haa of having to pay extra for a four-hour delivery slot, during which you take a day off work only to have no-one turn up at all. Needless to say, I was dubious, but they turned up on time and I escorted them – me slightly sitting on one of their laps in the front of the vehicle – to my house. One of the men then hoisted the machine onto his back and shimmied effortlessly across the yard and into the house, even managing to stop to put plastic shoe-covers on his feet before entering. I imagined a delivery driver somewhere in Brighton, in a parallel universe, first sucking his teeth, then grunting over the threshold with dog mess-covered trainers on.
“He even managed to put plastic shoe-covers on his feet before entering”
The two men connected the washing machine and went through a very laborious and careful explanation, in Turkish, of exactly how to use it. As if that wasn’t enough, they then put the washing machine on and put it through a short cycle to ensure that everything was in working order. Can you imagine how happy we’d be in the UK if this was the standard of service? Needless to say, I was delighted and more than happy to then go and purchase a new, less perilous oven and a fridge that actually worked from Hakan, whom I’m sure I saw visibly quake when I appeared in the doorway again.
After a similarly swift delivery of my other white goods, my house is now ready for anything and I can cook without fear of self-incineration and chill with impunity.
