Day 124 Turkey 20/1/2011, Antalya. Kuaför by Frank and shouted at by a Belgian.

I have left it long enough, it's time for another haircut! While travelling, this always leaves me with a slight feeling of dread. Taking the simple option of just having it shaved, in theory takes some of the concern away. For some reason though, whenever I ask for a grade 5 (it used to be a grade 4, but that was too risky), the Barber always seems to nod and then do whatever he feels like doing. I had a good feeling about Frank though, for one being in the centre of the touristy old city, surely he would have at least some command of the English language! Surprisingly he did, although not that much.

Picking up the clippers he showed me the grade 5 guide and promptly set to work. Or at least he would have, if the clippers had been charged. Replacing the battery for another produced slightly more life, however the slightly strained sound it made as he started cutting my hair, had me convinced that I was going to be stuck with a half shaved head. Fortunately the battery held out and I ended up with a reasonable haircut.

I hadn't asked for a shave, but Frank seemed so keen that it would have been a shame to stop him. What I would liked to have stopped him doing, was removing his massage/torture device from the counter draw. There is nothing like having a seemingly unqualified person set about you with a mains powered, vibrating massager. Frank belonged to the school of if level 1 is good for you, then imagine how good level 10 must be. My especially favourite bit was when he massaged my, possibly now re-broken, collar bone. Perhaps he was thinking that the resistance he was feeling, was something that could be vibrated back into place with the addition of a little more force.

When he finally stopped and told me that it was good, I was relieved if not relaxed. I am sure you are asking yourselves, how much did he pay for this treatment? A rather reasonable 15TL (£6), which was worth it for the experience alone!

Taking my new haircut out on the town that evening, I went to a restaurant and got shouted at by a Belgian. In truth it wasn't really shouted at, more of a to. The man had had quite a lot of beer and he had an interesting approach to speaking English. It was as if the words built up in his brain like rising lava and then suddenly erupted from his mouth. Generally followed by lots of very loud laughter. For the next couple of hours he explained that he and his wife were retired and now travelled around Europe and Turkey in a ford transit. He was very proud of the fact that it wasn't a camper van, instead just a van that they sleep in. They were quite good company in a deafening way, plus he bought me a beer!

When they finally left, the bar owner came out from where he was hiding, it appears that they had been in the bar quite some time. As a thank you for distracting them from him, he bought me another beer. Maybe I should have a haircut more often, because this one is clearly lucky!