You’re all going to think I’m a dreadful snob, but I’ve always been a bit sniffy about going to Turkey. The last time I was there, I was a 19-year-old with my now-husband Christopher. In our maturity, we blew a good part of our student loan money on a cheap Teletext deal (remember those) to Olu Deniz. We had a lovely time… Although there is one tale – now Smiles family lore – about when Chris was practically kidnapped and taken to the hills in a car crammed with Turks to buy leather and diamonds. We wanted – or could afford – neither.
But in the resulting years, the country has got a bit of a tacky reputation. Be it as a destination to drown yourself in fake handbags (they’re pretty damn good, to be fair) or the place to go for cut-price hair transplants and teeth brighter than the sun; Turkey is your place. Perhaps I think I’m a bit above my station for a Middlesbrough mum of two, eh?
Each year we try and get away in the October half term with our teens and wider family, including my sister and brother-in-law and their two children, thanks to the financial help of my wonderful mum Dorothy. Tenerife has always been a popular choice. But this year, well, the prices had gone through the roof. For our family of nine, an all-inclusive getaway in Tenerife would have cost an astronomical £4k more than Turkey. And we’d have been staying in a four-star rather than a five-star resort.
It all sounded great – at least on paper. But now for the real review…
Okay, I won’t keep you hanging. We loved it. The flight is four and a half hours, which is the same as to get to Tenerife. The hotel? Well, it was lovely – and every bit the five-star promised. The food was the standout feature, with every taste catered for. A friendly catering team also made bespoke meals cooked for my 13-year-old daughter Harriet, who is severely allergic to dairy. A huge relief. The Miracle Resort Hotel, where we stayed, was spotlessly clean, the rooms felt luxurious and the facilities were brilliant. There were endless sunbeds (take that, Germans) and the hotel has its own stretch of beautifully kept beach.
Now…one niggling fear that I’d had was Turkey’s proximity to some of the world’s most troubled regions. Indeed, just before we were set to fly home, the FCDO updated its Turkey travel warning, advising against all travel to parts of Turkey within 10km of the border with Syria “due to fighting and a heightened risk of terrorism.” It’s worth stressing that our location of Antalya – which last year saw an eye-popping 17.2m tourists fly there – was hundreds of miles away.
Thankfully, all was well as we travelled home with no drama. And, along with the total loss of my waistline, I also left behind any remnant of Turkey snobbery. Result.
Chatting in the office, a colleague made an astounding admission. Then – as I sat open-mouthed – others chimed in to agree with him. Get this: they’d never seen a hedgehog in real life. YOU WHAT. These London folk, eh?! Hedgehogs are sublime. They are the cutest, funniest, most magnificently British creatures and I think they must be protected at all costs. Heartbreakingly, hedgehogs have declined dramatically in recent decades and are now considered vulnerable in the UK.
In my area of Nunthorpe, where I’m a Conservative councillor, there are so many of them that I insisted on hedgehog warning signs on roads. But there are things all of us can do to protect them – such as creating ‘hedgehog highways’ by leaving space in your fence to connect with your neighbours’ garden, providing safe food and fresh water as well as creating ‘wild corners’.
Please, let’s do all we can to help them.
Trust Geoff to know what to do in prepping emergency
In all this prepping panic, there is just one person who I’d call (or run to find, if the phones are cut…). Regular readers know all about my lovely in-laws, Babs and Geoff – and, let me tell you, Geoff would be the very person to seek out should disaster strike. The Government might have its new Be Ready campaign – but Geoff is already ten steps ahead of the game. He’s been stocking up for years. He doesn’t just have a panic room full of emergency supplies; his car boot also stocks all the necessities. Teabags, of course, included.
