Quiet please, I'm thinking.
So, yesterday I learned that turtles are common enough in rural Turkey. These guys have everything, the Turks I mean, including snakes which stupid St. Patrick had to go and banish from the old Emerald Isle. Not that it matters that much, we don’t have poisonous spiders, killer bees or carnivorous plants either. But we do have Guinness.
Back to the turtles. These little fellas just plod around, strutting their stuff at a relaxed pace, sticking it to the Man in their own inimitable way. I’ve decided I want one. What could be cooler than having your very own shell-encrusted reptile?
Further to the above I popped down to the local stream, everyone should have one, to have a ganders and sure enough spotted a couple of little beauts. I couldn’t quite bring myself to nab one though, not least because three of the four were water turtles who made good their escape once I arrived – they may be slow on land but not in the drink, that being their natural abode. It didn’t seem fair to cart one away from the idyllic setting of dangerously low water level (banks duly adorned with empty beers cans), styrofoam and someone’s old armchair. Seriously, who goes to a beautiful nature spot and thinks, ‘this needs my old, battered, falling-to-pieces recliner’. Jerks!
One must marvel at turtles though. Up close and personal they’re not up to a whole lot; the don’t have sharp teeth (none at all that I could spot), they’re not exactly fast unless in water and, other than the shell, they have little by way of protection. In fairness though that shell is pretty impressive.
In summary, a whole piece on turtles, short as you like, providing the perfect platform for faecal jokes/references and not one until now. Unless, of course you count the title.
Until next time.