Day twenty four - 25 August 2009, Oludeniz on a boat

I am not feeling very bright today, and nor are JC and a few others I could mention. The other John, who from now on will be referred to as Just John, spends the whole day lying down on the deck of the boat that we hired for the whole truck load. Today is Jen's birthday, so it's her party too.

It turns out to be the best way to spend 20TL each that anybody can think of. The sea is crystal clear blue and we travel around various deep water coves, taking turns to dive off the boat at each stop. We stop at the island of St Nicholas, Santa's real grotto, but nobody bothers to investigate the ruins on shore as we are enjoying ourselves too much in the sea. The boat has some flip flops and masks, and looking down we can see pools of fish swimming about 15ft below the surface.

Myself and JC do a water float ride off the back of a motor boat. A couple on another float recognise us from the karaoke the previous night and say we were the most entertaining part of their evening.

One cove we visit towards the end features a cold fresh water spring which makes a strange contrast in the warm Turkish sea. It also features some high rocks we can climb. Gaz, Meg and myself do some ‘tombstoning’, ie diving off these rocks. Gaz keeps moaning about his footing and only does one at about 25ft, the coward. Myself and Meg decide to go one louder at about 40ft. She goes first and loses her bikini top underwater, but she is able to re-adjust before she comes up. By now the boat’s engines have started up and people are shouting at me that we are ready to go. This, and the fact that Meg had already done it (I can’t let a girl look the bravest can I?) leads me to take a quick plunge. If I stayed to think about it too long I don’t think I would have done.

photos courtesy of Rhi's underwater camera

not the bit where she loses her top...malheureusement

bombs away

John commits the scene to memory while Sam wants a picture

After the boat trip,  Rhi, Caz, Belgian Sam, John & Tracy, the latter two of whom seem to be growing closer by the day despite denials on at least one party's side, and I gather at the camp site bar for cocktails, while a fresh roast lamb turns on a spit by our truck. I really should know better, because I am asleep in my tent by the time 'Larry' is served up. I do, however, wake up in the early hours of the following morning to find some people still sat in the cushioned seats at the beach bar area.