Sorry, Kivak, I know you're not seeing a lot of action at the moment, but I've been pouring my literary energy into another wee project of late. I'll try to brighten up your sad little days with some more blog therapy, but methinks it might come in fits and starts for the next short while before the ABs get into their stride or one of us is unshackled and let out of the country. In the meantime you'll have to make do with still more anecdotes from travels gone by.
...The day eventually came when the Turkish residency permit was ever so gratefully received and the tatty old backpack was finally stuffed of all the totally useless crap I used to cart around the world in those days. William and Fyodor has to be abandoned unfortunately, although I found replacements for them a few years down the track. I left a large bill at the school canteen, but I skipped the country without my last pay packet, so that should just about have covered it. I surely wasn't flavour of the month once my escape had been uncovered, but I haven't stepped back inside the country at any stage in the intervening 15 years. I'm sure the guards at the Iranian border crossing in Sero won't be overly concerned looking for repayment for a few kebabs from 1992 in any case.
To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment