New friendships must be forged in fire and fun and tempered by good sense and good humour. No friend is made by sitting around at home chatting, things must happen, there have to be shared events to build common memories. One of the problems of living in a small town that is geared up for summer life is that on wet and windy days there seems to be little to do. This Sunday the weather was blustery so Sezgin suggested we take up Alattin and Kevser’s invite to breakfast at their house. After we ate the lethargy associated with over indulgence began to settle on us. Everyone was stretching and then snuggling down into the sofas as the soba soporifised us with its smoky heat. It seemed tempting to just go home, leave them to enjoy a relaxing day and do our own indolent thing at our house. Then Kevser turned the mood by making us Turkish coffee and the intense caffeine buzz injected us with a little more dynamism.

Sezgin, whose thoughts continually circle back to his stomach, suggested going to the nearby and picturesque mountain village of Gökbel for gözleme pancakes, we all groaned. Kevser said ‘a walk?’ just as the already open heavens parted a little further. We needed an indoor activity that was more stimulating than the Jenga game I’d been playing with her son (who’s so strict about the rules that it wasn’t much fun). ‘Bowling!’ piped up Alattin to enthusiastic general approval so we all started to prepare ourselves, gathering boots, coats, umbrellas, wallets and drinks for the car. Just as we were ready Alattin picked up a newspaper and slunk out of the lounge. Our enquiring looks to Kevser led her to reveal with a sigh that he had just gone to the toilet, ‘With a newspaper? While there are guests here?’ Sezgin was shocked. Kevser had the long suffering look of the lavatory bibliophile’s spouse and secretly İ was envious of Alattin as I’d love to do this when we have guests but rigid instruction by my mum (another bathroom bookman’s spouse) has trained me it’s rude.

We sat back down and though Kevser told us to be prepared to wait up to twenty minutes Alattin was deferentially back in just ten. It set the tone for the day though and wherever we went as Alattin made a move towards the toilets everyone looked at their watches and tapped them conspicuously. We debated how he would cope with public conveniences in the UK where the door opens on a pre-timed basis, we decided it would probably be badly.

The day out was a great success though, we ate at a nice-ish restaurant, bowled appallingly and then went for scrumptious desserts after. On the way home I drove and Sezgin and Kevser had the sleeping children in the back of the car with them. About half an hour from home Kevser mumbled ‘sıkıştım/ I’m squeezed’ so Sezgin moved over to give her and her son more room. About twenty five minutes from home, she said it again so Sezgin scooted a little further over. Only when she said it again five minutes later, and he no longer had anywhere to go, did he realise she meant she wanted to go to the toilet but was using the polite phrase (which carries two meanings). When we pulled over in a petrol station she scrambled out of the car with unseemly haste and as expected Alattin announced he was also going to use the facilities so Sezgin offered him a newspaper.

Alattin returned shortly and I hurried to finish my cigarette as Kevser would surely follow soon. Five minutes passed with no sign of her, so Alattin lit up. His cigarette finished and she hadn’t returned. Sezgin passed Alattin’s ringing mobile through the car window to him and he took one look and hurried back to the toilets. Sezgin and I guessed what had happened, the famed Turkish nazar (evil eye) had struck. Kevser having teased Alattin all day about his toilet habits had attracted a negative but similar energy in her direction and was now stuck in the restroom. In the traditional local way we all went in to investigate and help. The attendants from the petrol station were lackadaisical in their response. ‘Mmm’ mumbled one apathetically, ‘someone got stuck before’ and the other agreed rather half-heartedly that it was a shame no-one had had the door fixed since.

They brought a white plastic chair and tried to pass it in to Kevser so she could climb over the top despite her protests that it was too high and that the chair didn’t fit and then just wandered off. Alattin used a chair from the outside to climb in but he too, despite his best and most vigorous efforts, failed to open the jammed lock. I’ve been through this once myself when at a reception at the Turkish Embassy in London I found myself trapped in the ladies loo one floor below all the other guests. I banged first softly and then hard on the door and shouted and then whimpered but no-one heard. I rammed the door with my body and rattled the lock till my hands ached. Finally, close to tears from frustration and embarassment and, left with no other option, I climbed ignominiously out of the back window into the alley way and then made my way back to the front door of the building. I was let back in, dusting down my smart trousers, by the bemused policeman on duty who was left scratching his head as he had facilitated my re-entry but hadn’t seen me leave.

Kevser was dealing with the bad situation well though, mainly by giggling. Sezgin attempted to rouse more help from the two lethargic pump attendants and they came back to the wash basin area and looked at the door. Then they left again. Finally losing patience Sezgin found a long stick outside, told the two occupants of the stall to retreat to behind the toilet and bashed the lock. The door flew satisfyingly open and Kevser and Alattin appeared looking dishevelled and relieved. Now if we’d sat at home and had a lazy Sunday we’d never have had the sanitation escapapde, Alattin now has ammunition against Kevser about his newspapers after all at least his sojourns in the toilet are voluntary and we all have the funny memory to share. Kevser’s response of laughter rather than tears or tantrums also impressed me, as did her need to immediately consume a chocolate brownie claiming her blood sugar had dropped due to the stress! Firm friends can, it seems, be made in the most unlikely of circumstances.