Hugh Reilly: 'I didn't see a turtle, but I see shellsuited animals every day'

Published on Tuesday 20 October 2009 19:01

IN NORMAL circumstances, when booking a holiday for the October school week, staff at the desks of various Abta-bonded banditos should have the good grace to wear nylon stockings over their heads when they quote the price for seven days in a one-star Spanish hell-hole.

But thanks to our depressed economy, mid-term holiday flights this year have been eerily affordable.

Like most teachers, I have a fear of flying. Travelling by air necessitates entering a terminal building and having your holiday plans ruined on seeing some of your pupils standing in the check-in line. The best-case scenario is that at least you will know the name of the wee brat kicking your chair all the way to your destination; the worst is that he and his football-shirt-wearing family are staying at your hotel.

Luckily, the coast was clear, and with the risk of being outed as a teacher eliminated, I was able to blend in with other holidaymakers. Travelling incognito, I was able to revel in much schadenfreude as I observed stressed mums and dads endeavouring to deal with teenage tantrums as the mob shuffled towards the check-in desk. I never realised being an off-duty teacher could be so much fun.

Despite being released more than 30 years ago, the British public's memories of Midnight Express continue to blight the work done by the good people at VisitTurkey.com. But thanks to Gordon Brown's adeptness at devaluing sterling, the Eurozone was a no-go area for me, so I opted for the Turkish resort of Dalyan. The town is famous for its loggerhead turtles, or caretta-caretta, as they are known locally. It mattered little to me that I didn't see a single turtle; as a classroom teacher, I encounter animals in shellsuits every day.

My girlfriend is a sun-worshipper, so I was coerced into joining her for a day's grilling at Turtle Beach. While she lay out on the sand, I frolicked in the choppy sea, doing handstands to amuse bored crabs. After a few minutes, I started to walk out, hoping that the ten sit-ups I had done before breakfast would have female onlookers believing that Daniel Craig was in Dalyan. Unfortunately, my paunch conjured up images of Desperate Dan.

Suddenly, I heard: "Help!"

I looked over and saw an old biddy sink beneath the waves. I initially thought this may have been a crude attempt at flirting; after all, the water depth was only about 4ft. But when she momentarily resurfaced and screamed "Help!" before falling under a large wave, I ran to her aid and pulled her from the sea bed. She had swallowed more than her fair share of the Aegean, but was still able to stagger to her sun-lounger after a few minutes.

Thankfully, I didn't have to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

David Cameron would love Turkey, a land where the lack of big government allows small businesses to prosper. One such entrepreneur I encountered was Denise, a 20 stone beauty who, for a few liras, ferries passengers across a river in a rowing boat that would not be out of place in the pond of a municipal park.

In a red-tape obsessed, nanny state like the UK, some unelected quango would insist that her vessel carry pesky items such as lifejackets. Aboard the buoyancy-aid-free boat, I experienced a certain frisson when the wash from a passing pleasure cruiser threatened to capsize our craft, causing Denise to pull on her oars like Steve Redgrave.

As a historian, I enjoyed walking through the ruins of the ancient city of Kaunos. The amphitheatre, with seating for 5,000, is particularly well-preserved.

One can just imagine a bloodthirsty Roman audience looking on in anticipation as X Factor hopefuls nervously entered the stage and gave it their best shot, knowing that the penalty for a bad live performance was immediate strangulation.

With no more holidays till Christmas, it's going to be a long winter in school.