I am awoken at about midday with the Scottish Widow Helen shouting up to me that it is my last chance to get up. I have missed a group truck clean, which I don’t actually recall being told will take place, although Dave had indicated that some such was taking place when he got up while I was denying my existence under a pillow.
I see some very embarrassing photos from the previous night....
I go to the beach. It is 3 TL to see the ruins of ancient Olympos which you walk through to get to the beach. There is also a fresh water spring that runs right into the sea which means you feel hot and cold flushes when swimming near the end of the spring.
I then go back to bed.
In the evening, I am subject to a kangaroo court for missing the truck clean. The whole truck group act as a jury, which neither I, nor JC acting as my representative, get to vet in any way. JC had assumed his position as my defense without actually consulting me. He's going for a plea bargain, while I contradict him with several mitigating circumstances. I question the neutrality of the jury, and jury duties are briefly assigned to a couple of girls not from our group who are at the bar. However, after I bribe them with a couple of beers, their 'not guilty' verdict is not accepted by Pete, our often ballistic Scouse retired headmaster who has been appointed the judge. My insistence on being not technically guilty due to negligence in keeping me informed only serves to enhance my sentence. I am sentenced to cleaning the truck toilets for the first week in India after reacting negatively to having my guitar confiscated for a month.....
 |
| in the dock |
Meanwhile, Stephen, our retired solicitor from Yorkshire, is not at all happy about the mockery that has been made of his profession.
I drown my sorrows.
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