Plumb tuckered . . .

I never wanted to be a plumber. And in a boat of course, it involves standing on your head for hours trying to  connect pipes that you can't see, wishing you had at least two extra elbows on each arm.

The new tank is now in place for the 6th, and hopefully the last, time. Not helped by the fact that the pipe orifices were nearly, but not quite, in the right place to match up with the existing pipework. 

Then having got it all together we turned on the macerator pump (that ejects the tank contents overboard) only to find a massive leak from the pump itself. Two studs had sheared inside it. No spares available for days so bought a cheap Taiwanese copy of the pump and installed that.

Of course, it was nearly, but not quite, the same size and shape as the original so lots more faffing about with the pipes to make them fit. Another half day lost.

Eventually came the moment of truth - all pipes connected, electrics connected, seacocks open, flick the switch    -    silence  . . . . . . .

If there had been a spare bit of rope handy I wouldn't be writing this but it was raining hard and I refuse to hang myself in the rain.

Anyway, it was a dud fuse, considerately supplied with the pump. Replaced that and we seem to be up and running. Only remains for me to rebuild the woodwork of the double bunk which I destroyed to access the original tank and we can actually leave here.

The two trips with my old mate (from November) Cahit (pronounced Jaheed) and his family were extremely interesting. It was really good of him to take the trouble and he bought us dinner and took us on a guided tour and wouldn't take a penny for any of it and he is by no means a wealthy man. I shall treasure the copy of the Qu'ran (in English) that he gave me but it's unlikely I will read much of it. 

The Turks have a level of courtesy and consideration to each other and strangers that, if we ever had it in England, we must have lost long ago.

I was walking down the prom some nights before Sue arrived. It's a 'shared space', like Hamilton Road so pedestrians and traffic mingle. An old chap was standing in the middle of the road gazing into space when a car slowly drew up to him and stopped about a foot away. Time passed. He gazed. Eventually he noticed the car and ambled off out of its way. The two young men in the car just laughed in a sort-of 'that'll be us in about 40 years time' sort of way and drove slowly off. 

Can you imagine that on Brighton or Southend or Blackpool prom? Wouldn't it involve much horn blaring, light flashing, fist waving, expletive shouting? I can't help but think it would, even if the car had no right to be there.

I took Sue to my favourite kebap shop for dinner (no, it shouldn't be 'kebab') last night. The owner shook my hand on arriving and leaving and I introduced Sue and he shook her hand - not a word of a common language between us but I think I'm his 'Englishman'. I've only been there 4 times but I'm probably the only Englishman in town so always get a warm greeting. We got absolutely stuffed with food for £8 between us but no booze, of course. Strictly lemonade in this town except for a very few places.

So that's it for now. Hope to leave on Tuesday but we shall see.