The Landlady: A Cuban in Istanbul

I am currently sitting in the world’s most expensive airport awaiting the arrival of The Cuban Boyfriend who is flying in from Europe. Believe it or not, the world’s most expensive airport is Dalaman in Southern Turkey. If you don’t agree, then I’d be interested to hear about an airport where one beer costs more than £8, like it does here.

Worse still, the Cuban Boyfriend missed his connection in Istanbul, meaning that I have to enjoy the dubious pleasures of The World’s Most Expensive Airport for the next seven hours.

Furthermore, I dropped my computer in the sea yesterday and it no longer works. So, no email, no Skype, no music, no beer and no Boyfriend thus far.

I think I’m starting with lady flu and slept very badly last night because the singer in the local mosque in my village has changed and is rather more vocal and less tuneful than his predecessor, going on for hours at 5am. Even I, who usually enjoy it, am relieved to hear the off switch of the microphone click over the PA system.

Furthermore, I dropped my computer in the sea yesterday and it no longer works

My only entertainment at the moment is people watching. There’s a man sitting on the next table to me who was already here when I arrived and appears to be here for the long haul.

He is in possession of a guitar case covered in stickers and is wearing jeans (allowing me sporadic glimpses of a very hairy builder’s bum) and a fringed leather jacket. He is also wearing cowboy boots which he just removed – cue more builder’s bum – in order to cut his toenails… classy. As long as he doesn’t start playing the guitar, I should be able to survive the next six hours. I might even splash out £8 for a beer.