Just imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, recently ‘married’ middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country even one that is secular and practises a moderate and state-controlled form of Islam.
Turkey is a country familiar to many Brits: the beer swigging tattooed tourist seeking cheap fun in the sun with chips on the side and those of a more scholarly hue that wonder at the unparalleled scale and depth of Anatolian culture and history. Türkiye means ‘land of the strong’ an old Turkic/Arabic compound; Anatolia translates as ‘sunrise’ from ancient Greek. Both poetic epitaphs are fitting depictions of a place blessed with striking physical beauty, shaped by the brutal force of nature and fought over, won and lost by conquistadors across all of recorded time. Turkey is a true crossroad of civilisations, the evidence of which lies casually underfoot.
My partner, Liam, suggested I chronicle our exploits with the mad, the sad, the bad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Since most Turkish travelogues we have read tend to be worthy, insipid or both, I decided I would try and stir things up with something a little less reverential and lot more controversial.
The tales from paradise are true (well, my version of the truth anyway) but I have changed the names of some of the characters to protect the guilty and avoid a brick through my window.
