Mr X67!!!!!!!!!!

I didn't know what to do. I had no idea he was a hairdresser. I wandered blindly through the streets of Adana, my mind racing faster than a name change by Cyrano. What was going on?

I put the business card in my bag and took out the notebook I had written the mysterious address in. I was just going to stop and ask directions when suddenly...

It started raining, I mean literally pouring. I had no umbrella, so I dashed into a local bar. I sat down and ordered a beam & coke. The bar seemed pretty empty, since it was still quite early in the day. Still fearing my identity, I scoped out the joint to see if I recognized anyone. In the corner of the bar, sitting alone at a table was a middle aged man. He seemed to notice me and I quickly turned around on my stole. After a few minutes, I turned back around only to see him walking towards me...

 It was the hairiest man I had ever seen.... could it be....surely not?  .... theHandsultan?

I try to smile at the man but the stern look on his face turns my relaxing smile-to-be a nervous one..

He asks, ´madam, can I see your ID please´

I search for my passport in my bag for what seems ages, at first I can´t find it. Finally, I give it to the man. He looks at it, checks the 2-year old picture on it with how I look now. No smile on his face and he puts my passport away. ´Madam, follow me please.´

(so tempting so so tempting)

 I was taken directly back to the airport and as it was still raining was soaking wet.....

Having been through this process before, I was certain that this would be a brief delay, minimised by the fact that I was a dutch citizen . I was  escorted by  two officers down a hall off of the public corridor, where we entered a room with several desks and in the far corner was a doctor´s exam table (I wondered what that could possibly be used for amidst what otherwise looked like an office?). I told to sit at the one of the desks and several standard forms were handed to me. No problem - name, address, travel itinerary, luggage contents, personal belongings, etc. By the time i had finished completing the forms, our luggage arrived. The agents opened it in my presence and individually removed and indexed each article from the suitcases and placed them on a table.  this was a little embarrassing for me, "blue blouse, red skirt, blue jeans, sheer nylons, lace bra 36C matching panties (of course), two-piece bathing suit, hair dryer, box of tampons ,  suntan oil and ´a few things for the weekend´."

The guard picked up the lacy 36C bra and matching panties and eyeing them, with a wry smile on his face, placed them back in my case, then he picked up the "few things for the weekend" and again, trying not to look at me, with a cheeky smile, he put them in my case.  He then picked up the suntan lotion and looked me straight in the eye...... His huge Turkish moustache was a little off putting and I shifted in my seat. 

After this torture, my face was flushed and I was in cold sweat wondering how much longer was this going to last, when he handed me a piece of paper with a telephone number on it and said “you are free to go”………………… so I hurriedly picked up the rest of my things and departed….

As soon as I was out of the airport building, I sat on a bench and opened my suitcase.  There are been something suspicious about the way the guard had looked at my bra….. this was MORE than just Turkish sapikness!  I found it, and pulled it out of the suitcase.  Much to the interest of the gentleman sat beside me, I checked the bra over….my God!  Something was inside the right cup!  It was a folded piece of paper….. opening it up, I read the words in disbelief, cold shivers running down my spine “I know you from Turkish Class - meet me in the hamam at 2pm.  Make sure you are not followed.  Bring your msn, two of Yilgun´s lists and a bottle of Vineyard´s wine”……

Immediately I knew the sender was…

It was mission impossible……most of Yilgun’s lists had been ripped apart and made into toilet paper and Vineyard had destroyed the vinery on his departure…..all that was left was the MSN….NOOOOOO…He must never ever get access to that….she decided to call the number on the other piece of paper........

2pm?   But he did not put what day..... did he mean today?  It was then 1:30 pm and she had no idea where she should go.  So hungry and keen to check into her hotel, she hailed a taxi and headed off.

On reaching the hotel, she was greated by the receptionist, a handsom young Turk, with dark skin and deep brown eyes.  He held her glance for a couple of seconds to long..... he must have sensed her unease, still unsure what to do about the guard at the airport. 

She was not so keen to hand out her msn, did not carry Yilgins lists with her and as for vinyards wine, how would she get a bottle???

She made her way to her room, put the key in the door, and slowly opened the door only to find in her room........................................

 It was the answer machine...."hello you have reached the home of Admin and Catwoman.  We are out buying capnip.  Please leave a message and we will either delete it or get back to you as soon as we can".

Strange.... noticing it was nearly 2pm, I headed for the hamam...