Less than two weeks before I fly off to Turkey. I am already looking forward to complimentary bread and chilli pul dip with my glass of Efes. And the rice stuffed mussels served "over the wall" of whatever bar I am in. And my first plate of gozleme patates. Wrong season for hamsi tava (my favourite) but I can always have albanian liver or menemen. Can hardly wait.
Now for a warning. Four or five years ago in the Spring I started to suffer from some horrible thing, For six weeks I had diarrhea and fever and lost one and a half stone without wanting to. Eventually Hilary went with me to the doctor (she had worked in NHS for a long time) and said "He is disappearing in front of me. Do something!". I was admitted into the local hospital. Two weeks later I finally got a diagnosis of this strange and exotic plague I had picked up. It was streptococcus bovis - a bacterial blood poisoning illness infection. This can come from your own colon cancer (which tests proved I didn't have) or it can be introduced from outside. It can be picked up from cattle or sheep intestines.
It was then I remembered that six months earlier we had been walking along the Turkish coast and come to a little harbour with a rust-bucket boat selling snacks. We went on and ordered. The smell from below stairs was awful. Finally it arrived and Hilary refused to eat it. But I - macho man - ploughed on. For a while, and then it got too much. It was, of course, very badly cooked korkorec which is made from ... sheep's intestines.
So a warning. Eat your korkorec from proper food outlets, and not dodgy boats along the coast. I shan't be eating any at all from now on. When it comes to me I don't think Hilary has abolished the death penalty.
