A Slice of Turkey without Cranberry.

It's 11 o' clock on a humid, mid-August night and I'm having my first taste of Turkey. At 31 degrees it's pleasingly warm and smells, if I'm honest, a bit like chicken with a sprinkling of cumin. The aroma from the kebab shop in the airport foyer welcomes a plane load of hungry Geordies. After 4 hours of being forced to sit and drink the beverages trolley dry, they're ready for something to soak up the alcohol. It's not unlike the Bigg Market on a Saturday night but here there are more Trolley Dollies than trollied dollies.

That was almost two weeks ago now and the flavour's fading as fast as my tan. Short summer vacations are one of the perks of Pots' job. Conversely I have 7 consecutive weeks of 'holiday' this year giving me precious extra hours for cooking & cleaning, washing & ironing, picking kids up & dropping them off, negotiating & mediating........ a job in the education sector is great - just make sure you don't have your own kids!

Oh dear, that makes me sound all bitter and twisted. It's not that I wish I was childless. I quite like my kids really. Especially when they are asleep. That's the only time the effort:domestic tasks ratio decreases unless, of course, you're in a 5* hotel. This year we decided to throw sand in the face of anyone daring to suggest: '' a change is as good as a rest.'' Sure, food shopping in a foreign market is a welcome change from trudging Asda's neon-lit aisles but you still have to prepare and cook it, before clearing up, washing up and putting away. For a single week, the first this year, we were holidaying abroad as a family and I was determined to have change AND rest.

Goldcity Tourism Complex stood majestically on the Alanyan hillside, it's lights (I think they were trying for golden, but orange is a fairer description) twinkled proudly to greet us as we wound our way up the steep road towards it. The next seven days were going to be spent indulging in luxury and I wasn't going to feel guilty about it.


Thanks to the stunning views, delicious food, sublime spa, amazing architechtural detail and the staff's attention to detail, my mission was accomplished. Total relaxation. I usually measure this in brpw (books read per week). This year's score is a healthy 3.

I won't bore you with a descriptive list of the resort's amenities because its snazzy website can paint that picture far better than I. What it fails to do however, is project the personalities of the people that make the whole experience; the fellow tourists with whom new bonds and friendships are formed; the attentive staff whose individualism remains unstifled by corporatism. Our favourite bartender, Dolly Dimple as we affectionately called her, had such an infectious smile that you couldn't help but grin as she skipped around the bar, on tip-toes, messing up everyone's drinks orders: ''Oh, so sorry. No cranberry for vodka so I bring you beer instead. Is Ok?''

Bearing in mind that we didn't venture further than the slick rooftop bar on the sixteenth floor or the outdoor massage tents in the Spa's gardens at lower basement level, it would be ambitious to claim that we'd seen a real slice of Turkey. I may need to wait til Christmas before I can have it with cranberry, but after my summer taster, I'm ready to book again for autumn. Join me.