Just back from a lovely week in Turkey and I made a wee pal. Myself and Mrs B. sat in a little bar of an evening and watched the world go by. On the second night a wee lad of about 10 (if he was that!), appeared with a set of scales. "You're weight for one lira, Mister" was his tout. So I stood on the scales and duly gave him some coinage. This the happened every night, same time, same place, until the second last night when, knowing it would be our last at the bar, I gave home some notes. He was delighted. We later discussed him at some length, smiling at his entrepreneurial skills. I was accosted on the last day in the street by the same smiling lad, who proceeded to "high five" me )not a bad manoeuvre from someone about 2' 8" !). A Turkish Alan Michael Sugar in the making?
