I live in a treehouse, and it has a disco ball hanging from the ceiling.
Oh, and I am a Pirate now.
My new home is called Smugglers Inn – A PIRATE BAR in PIRATE BAY. I am being 100% serious.
I . Work. In. A. Pirate. Bar.
How many times does a person get to say ‘Pirate’ so many times in one sentence when talking about their real life? Apart from, ” I wish I was a pirate because pirates are so cool the way they pirate around, being all piratey and stuff.” It is kinda awesome.
My treehouse is on an ‘island’ – part of mainland Kekova that is only accesible by boat or a long walk along the Lycian Way. By day we run water sports for the tourist boats in the bar and clients from Demre harbour. By night we put our party pants on and help foreigners get down the Pirate Way.
It’s pretty darn isolated, and I tend to be without either WiFi or electricity during the day. Or both. This is why this post has taken so terribly long to get published – getting anything technological done here is a massive bitch.
This whole shindig is my new HelpX gig – working for 4 hours a day in return for room, board, drinks, water sports, boat tours, and all day to read and write. Mostly write, because the reading material consists mainly of Turkish warnings on the back of alcohol bottles.
My internet is going to run out soon, so let me fill you in on the basics.
At Smugglers Inn I have
- 9 Turkish Men – I am the only foreigner, and only female. Oddly enough it’s been nothing but comfortable. More on this to come.
- 2 Pirate Cats – a Big Old Tom and his Lovely Lady, I still have to name them. Apparently being called ‘cat’ is enough.
- 3 Party Kittens – they live under the bar, and I know they dance under there when we’re not looking; with all the alcohol that must seep down there now, those kitties are going to be able to really pack it in at college.
- 1 Dog’s Bark – apparently we have a dog. I have yet to see the mythological creature, but I have been told of his fearsome (read: bi-polar) nature towards people, cats, inanimate objects and air, and heard his gruff bark.
- 1 Outdoor ‘shower’ – technically, it is a shower. Water falls from the top and you can get clean underneath it. We also technically have hot water – this isn’t optional though, as it gets boiled up by the Turkish sun during the day. When I rinse off after a sweaty night behind the bar, I am in darkness under hundreds of stars.
- One slightly smelly Turkish toilet – you deal with it.
- BOATS, BOATS, BOATS and a jet-ski.
- Numerous drunk Australias and foreigners of all origins. But so far, mostly Australians.
I gotta head off before the internet dies and email my Mummy Dearest, but here are some things you can expect from the following weeks.
A recap on Olympos Life and a Photo-Tour of Olympos Ruins; The Undying Flames of Yanartes; the experience of living with 9 Men on an island; a deeper look into alternate lifestyles; Partying Pirate Style and Exiting Taxi Boats 101 (especially for drunk Aussies). Also a look into hospital visits and trusting international doctors, as well as 10 Reasons NOT to Get Drunk at Your Farewell.
See you soon dear Reader.