(Note. For non-native readers, a “turkey” is US slang for a failure or a disaster).

December 11th 2006 and my second trip to Turkey, to attend a meeting.

I had been with Sun in 2000 and my impression, on a trip where we were completely chaperoned, was that it was a brooding and possibly risky place.

My faithful driver Paul took me to Heathrow and we arrived at 8.00 for a 9.40 am flight.

Check in uneventful and I was soon drinking a coffee after a short wait to clear security. Said hello to a colleague in the lounge on the same flight. Boarded on time, and ensconced in my seat. Said hello to different colleagues as they went past to their seats.

Then a classic BA announcement from the captain.

“We have a couple of issues before we can take off. Firstly we noticed an engine problem inbound, so we need to fix that. Also there is a problem with the baggage hold door which we need to be able to close properly before we can leave. We’ll get back to you.”

I was tired on a Monday after a busy weekend so dozed for a while. About an hour later came the next update.

“We’ve fixed the engine, but we can’t fix the luggage door so the plane cannot fly. We are negotiating for another Boeing 767 and we’ll be in touch”.

Another wasted hour. At 11.30 the captain came on again. “We have the other 767 landing at 1pm, so we will bus you to that when the passengers are off it. In the meantime we will serve you lunch.”

Lunch consisted of a miniscule bag of nibbles and a plastic glass of water . Yum yum.

Finally at 1pm we were bused to the other plane and returned to our seats.

Radio silence for about an hour and the captain came on again ( a different captain as the original crew had used their flying hours).

In a hugely embarrassed voice he said. “You won’t believe this, but the luggage truck has just hit the baggage hold and rendered the door unusable. We can’t now use this plane, so we are trying to negotiate a different plane as both 767s are now defunct.”

Finally around 2pm the captain came on again.

“We’d like you to disembark and we’ll give you vouchers for refreshments. If you can use the lounge please go there.”

Although I can use the lounge, I (with other colleagues) insisted on collecting vouchers just in case, then we went to the BA lounge.

This was an example at BA at its worst. We were already four and a half hours late and the receptionist was doubtful about letting us all in. If you are over 4 hours delayed this is the time to make a client-friendly gesture.

Ensconced in lounge and grabbed some lunch. We had barely sat down when the announcement came. “BA 676 to Istanbul is cancelled. Please go and collect your bags and go to the ticket desk to try and rebook”.

I had expected this when they asked us to leave the second plane. I am convinced they had already decided to cancel but asked us to leave to prevent a riot.

We bolted down some food and went back through passport control to the baggage hall. An hour’s wait for my bag, and some colleagues’ bags also.

Then I had an event which told me it would not be my day. Walking through customs an officer asked me where I had come from. “Nowhere “ I said, but he would not believe that I had not left Heathrow and had a brief look at my bags anyway.

Long line for the BA ticket desk. I would have guessed a 2 hour wait, but Sarah who had got through faster, came back to tell us that all later flights were booked.

It wasn’t worth my while to travel next day as I would arrive too late to justify the trip. I resolved to fill in for a senior speaker at an event we were running in London on Tuesday.

Nonetheless I called at the BA customer service desk (30 minute wait) and asked for the name and address of their Chief Executive. They told me they “were not empowered to give this information” and gave me the email for their customer services department. I have dealt with these people before (guess you can tell). I cannot figure out why a company would pay a team of half educated gorillas to deal with their angriest customers, and I have been struck livid by some of the crass responses I have received.

(Just to give you an example, I once wrote a complimentary comment card praising the supervisor (Dolores) and her team for a great service. The reply thanked me and assured me that “Dolors” (sic) and HIS team would get to hear about my praise.) A customer service triumph.

Complained that I wanted to write to the top but they would only give me the monkeys’ address (found it in two minutes on the web at home). Well done BA.

Took the bus home. It’s an hour or so, but if you have wasted a whole day another hour doesn’t count.

January 8th 2007.

My first trip of 2007. Ready at 7 am for (normally) trusty Paul, who didn’t show. Called him in some concern, as I knew I had to get to Istanbul for an audience of 20+. Paul had assigned another driver and told him 8am, but fortunately the guy was free and arrived about 7.20. Still potentially doubtful to get to Heathrow in time for a 9.40 flight, but after 40 minutes of gridlock the last 20 minutes was amazingly clear and checked in at 8.20.

This time the flight took off more or less on time, and I thought that at last I was getting there.

Landed almost on time in far better weather than London, and joined the battle to buy a visa. Then through passport control and to a taxi. Showed the driver the address. The hotel I was staying in was opposite the Hyatt and was called the Ceylan Intercontinental (probably a joint venture). I pronounced Ceylan as “Saylan” but the driver kept saying “Jaylan”. I repeated “Intercontinental” and couldn’t understand why the guy seemed not to know the address.

We set off with me in some doubt as to whether we were going to the right place.

The road from the airport runs beside the beautiful Sea of Marmara, and the view was idyllic.. I was struck by the number of Turkish signs which have taken the sounds of English words and respelt them to become Turkish (for example you can take a “feribot” to cross to the other side). I also saw an “ambulans”.

We turned inland and went down a long street with an amazing number of musical instrument shops and mosques, and eventually crossed a bridge over the “Golden Horn”

Large numbers of men were fishing from the bridge, as well as a number of stalls selling bait.

We arrived at the “Jaylan” and a porter who spoke very good English welcomed me but stole my bags in a military operation. I couldn’t communicate with the driver so asked the baggage thief to ask him to make out a receipt including a tip. The driver promptly asked him to write the receipt and handed over the pad, at which point I realized that the cab driver couldn’t read, and that I had only got to my destination because he had recognised the sound “Intercontinental”.

I don’t like cities where you have to go through airport style metal detectors to enter a hotel.

Checked in and up to my room. 45 minutes later no bags so went downstairs (email withdrawal symptoms) and found them unattended. Took my bags (porters unhappy at lost tip) and went back to my room.

Checked email and prominent was one from Amex travel. I was flying on to Prague from Istanbul, and the only flight was with Czech Airlines. Czech Airlines don’t do e-tickets and they don’t hold tickets at the airport either. I would have to call in person at their offices which they claimed were open until 7.30. Checked the map and realized the office was 5 minutes walk from the hotel so set off about 6.30.

Arrived at the office to find it closes at 5.30. Thank you Czech airlines.

Turned to go back and found a man about my height attempting to rip the pocket and my wallet directly from my jeans. Pulled his hand away and he left me with my wallet intact. About 100m down the street someone else tried the same thing.

I should have taken the hint, but determined to see a little of Turkish life I called in at a normal looking restaurant. Sat down and ordered a beer while I looked at the menu.

As I was studying the menu, I was joined at the table next to me by a man and two women. A quick look at them and I had the feeling that the ladies were “working girls” so resolved to finish my beer and move on.

The guy tried to strike up a conversation, and with British politeness I answered him while trying to make it clear I wasn’t interested in getting to know him or his colleagues.

My new “friend” proposed “a toast to our English friend”. I was a little confused at this point as I knew there was a scam here. My first thought was that he would try to slip something into my glass so I kept my eyes on this as we clinked (nothing introduced).

Finished my beer and asked for the check. The proprietor arrived and I couldn’t believe my eyes- converting to Euros it was about 600 ($700+).

Pointed out that one (small) beer does not cost 600 Euros, and the proprietor launched into a story that I had invited my friends to dinner and I had to pay for their meal, and the ladies “champagne” (cheap white wine with no bubbles), and that I had to pay for two hours of their company each.

Two other waiters joined him in an attempt to intimidate and block the way to the door.

The proprietor started haranguing me and it was obvious they were trying to get me to move to the back of the restaurant where I would be less public. I decided my best approach was to be very loud and very public, so argued at top volume and said he should call the police (not sure they would be much help but I wasn’t going to concede any liability). They then went into a well rehearsed routine where the guy who had struck up the conversation said it was all a terrible mix up and he would pay half the bill.

“Yeah, right” I thought, knowing that he was clearly in on the scam and this would still part me from 300 Euros.

In the end I put down a note which would have paid for 5 beers and said I was leaving. They made a half hearted attempt to stop me but I made a non violent but determined walk which meant pushing past them. A really unpleasant experience.

On the way back to the hotel I was accosted by two more guys who were desperate to get to know me, but decided that was enough excitement for one day.

Back at the hotel, and reported the incident to hotel security, who were not interested.

I hate hotel food and especially room service- I hate the quality and the expense, but tonight room service pizza felt like all the adventure I wanted. It was disgusting but I didn’t have to risk my life to get it.

Next day ran a session for some of our Turkish managers. Told some my story- some were quite nonchalant and told me to expect it. Hmmmm.

Second evening I had dinner with some of the delegates in the hotel again- I wasn’t going out for any reason.

Morning running a session at the office, and a dash in a taxi to the airport. Traffic crazy but “fortunately” my driver was psychotic so he negotiated it very well as long as you can accept the odd heart attack en route.

Istanbul airport demand you check in 2 hours ahead even for a European flight, and I could see why. You go through a metal detector just to get inside. Then you have a long wait in line (no auto check in at all). Then an even longer wait at passport control when the border police exercise their job satisfaction by looking miserable and keeping you waiting a very long time, as they examine every passport minutely. I think they are trying to memorise the dates and destinations of travel of each passenger. Maybe there’s an exam at the end of each day.

Finally airside and time for a disgusting lunch- should have gone to Burger King.

To be honest, I was glad when we took off, after my experience, and won’t be rushing back.

Noticed that the lady in front of me was carrying a kitten in a pet basket, and spent some time wondering why someone would bring a cat from Istanbul to Prague.

Flight uneventful and landed more or less on time.

Stopped by customs again (I must look shifty) but eventually through.

Prague Airport taxis have clearly been working on their image and are much nicer than they were years ago. Safely at the hotel, made some calls and sent some items with deadlines.

Set off in search of a restaurant. After the earlier experience it was great to walk down quiet streets. I walked down a cobbled street and found a great (if idiosyncratic) restaurant. It was called something Italian like “Big Luca’s” or similar. Tried to agree a language to speak,(I speak virtually zero Czech). Enjoyed a hearty meal with no pretensions, and a couple of absurdly cheap beers (which according to the menu had a very dangerous alcohol content so I stopped at 2).

Out next morning and off to the Czech sub. The Prague hotel I stayed at (Corinthia Towers) has its own cabs and they are a complete rip-off. For a three minute drive I was charged half the price of the trip from airport to hotel.

Spent the day working with the Czech management team on a presentation. A great bunch of people.

Due to the lucky timing of my trip, the evening was the Czech subsidiary new year party.

The country MD, Michal, (a truly fantastic guy) drove me to the venue. As we left the building he asked who else was coming in his car. Massive declines all round. “You drive too fast” said a colleague.

We got into his car and I began to realize that she wasn’t joking. I understand that Michal is a pilot, and as he accelerated out of the garage I was expecting him to lift the flaps for take off. Arrived at the venue a few minutes later with my blood pressure significantly elevated.

The venue was exceedingly trendy. As we descended the stairs we were met by welcomers, dressed like monks but wearing eye masks (sorry, I have to report what happened). They let us into a basement, which had very dim lighting, and which was done out in a very Gothic style, with church- style statues. A big video screen was showing excerpts from (rather tasteless) vampire movies (although thinking about it I am not sure how many tasteful vampire films there have been).These scenes mainly involved naked vampire women covered in blood and writhing around with each other. Enough to put you off your food.

There were a whole set of waitresses who brought round drinks and canapés on trays and collected empty glasses. Their (insubstantial) costumes were mainly black, they had the regulation eye masks and little black capes also. I think they were supposed to be vampires, but the effect was more like a Batman convention for transvestites.

The festivities were interrupted on occasion, sometimes by a young guy in a tuxedo who sang songs from the Frank Sinatra era. In one sense he was musically pitch perfect. Every note was just as flat as the previous one.

Every few minutes the lights would flicker and a loud burst of horror film cinema music (“Da Da DAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!) would sound out. At this point a lady in evening dress, carrying a candelabra would come around the partygoers and lead someone away outside the room..

I have no idea what she was doing with them, but I noticed that most of them did seem to come back, and they had the eye masks too. Had you been watching me when she appeared you would have seen me discreetly moving to the opposite end of the room- I just wanted to have a quiet evening. Quite an idiosyncratic place but I enjoyed myself.

A good day on Friday working on presentations with Michal and Martina, and back home late Friday to pack for Paris on Sunday, and another week of adventures.