Travels Through An Imaginary Landscape

The truck bounced along the dusty road with Michael and I perched on the back surrounded by crates of fruit and vegetables. It had seemed only right to grant Colonel Pendlebury the one available seat beside the driver. It was now almost four days since we had left Constantinople and it seemed the further we progressed towards our destination the more limited our transport options became. For this, what we hoped would be the last stage of our journey, we had been reduced to hitching a lift with Frank, who drove his battered delivery truck between the more remote towns of the region. Continue reading →

Colonel Pendlebury darted through the narrow streets and alleys with Michael and I trailing in his wake. For a man of mature years he showed a surprising turn of speed. His sense of direction, unfortunately, appeared rather less sure. Our progress was interrupted by frequent pauses and hesitations, several abrupt changes of direction and, on more than one occasion, a complete 180 degree turn. I had just reached the conclusion that Colonel Pendlebury had no more idea of where he was headed than I did when we were halted by a sudden cry of exclamation. Continue reading →

EPISODE SEVEN: THE GOLDFISH FILES

PART FIVE

          I lay still where I had landed, somewhat bruised and thoroughly winded, whilst my eyes adjusted from the brilliant spotlight of centre stage to the murky gloom that now surrounded me. After a moment I cautiously turned my head and was thus able to confirm that Michael and I were sprawled awkwardly upon some sort of threadbare mattress which had just about cushioned our fall. I seemed to have twisted as I fell, perhaps conscious of a vague desire not to land on my backpack and flatten Gerald. As it was, my left hip and thigh had taken the weight of my fall and were now throbbing painfully. Beside me Michael rubbed the small of his back and groaned gently. Above us, I could just make out the outline of the trapdoor through which we had fallen, now swung neatly back into place. Continue reading →

EPISODE SEVEN: THE GOLDFISH FILES

PART FOUR

          My sense of triumph at smuggling Gerald the goldfish out of Sirkeci Station was not to last long. Having picked up a battered yellow cab outside, we soon found ourselves entering the Beyazit Gate of Constantinople’s Grand Bazaar. Within five minutes of entering this warren of covered streets it became apparent that outwitting Ms Semyonova and her sidekick Karl would prove to be a walk in the park in comparison with the task of locating Kemal’s Carpets. Continue reading →

EPISODE SEVEN: THE GOLDFISH FILES

PART THREE

          We opted to stay in the restaurant car until we reached Constantinople. There was little in our cramped, stuffy third class compartment to tempt us back there and you never knew who were you likely to meet in the narrow corridors along the way. So, to the obvious irritation of our waiter, we settled down to endless refills of coffee until we reached our destination. Continue reading →

EPISODE SEVEN: THE GOLDFISH FILES

PART TWO

          Despite the fact that it had clearly been designed with little thought given to considerations of luxury or even comfort, our third-class carriage for the journey to Constantinople was more than a little crowded. Competing for air in the stuffy atmosphere were a motley assortment of humanity, all manner of baggage, two bicycles, three chickens and a goat. Continue reading →

EPISODE SEVEN: THE GOLDFISH FILES

PART ONE

          I should have known the goldfish was going to be trouble from the first moment I laid eyes on him. He certainly looked innocent enough, suspended silently in a clear plastic bag filled with water. But there was something particularly inscrutable about his expression that I found rather unsettling. And I wouldn’t mind but it had really been a cuddly toy panda that I had my eye on anyway. Continue reading →