Mother had been pretty well organised up until Selcuk, where she lost [or at least THOUGHT she lost] two important things on two separate days.
Mum always wears a big chunky silver ring, and after returning from dinner our second night there she noticed that her ring was missing. Panicking, she thought that she must have left it at the restaurant and, after assuring me that she knew the way there and back [it wasn’t far or hard to find] she headed out alone to get her ring while I had a shower.
Almost half an hour later she still hadn’t returned and I was starting to get a bit worried. She returned shortly after, quite excited and nervous at the same time. I got in trouble for having a shower and not worrying about where my mother was, when apparently she’d been flying around town on the back of a motorbike! Now Mum isn’t a big fan of motorbikes, and hasn’t been on the back of one in god knows how long – at least not since we were born. What had happened was that when she got downstairs, Mehmet was there talking to Harry, the hostel owner. She told them she was heading back to the restaurant to look for her ring, and Mehmet offered to take her. She thought they were walking until he got on the bike and told her to hop on the back! They went to the restaurant which Mehmet unlocked, and the ring wasn’t there. Mehmet then took her on a whirlwind tour around Selcuk at 11 o’clock at night while she apparently hung on for dear life, politely refusing his offers of coffee explaining that I would be worrying about where she’d got to! I take my eyes off her for a few minutes and she’s off gallivanting around town on the back of a motorbike!
When she got back to the hostel, she found her ring. It was in her handbag.
The following night, I was looking online to get flights from Izmir to Kayseri and Mum was looking for her credit card to pay for them. Her credit card was living in her document wallet with her passport, and, alas! the bright red document wallet could not be found. She emptied out her backpack and trawled through everything; we rearranged the furniture, lifted up the beds, searching in every blanket. We searched my entire pack too, without success. Mum was getting incredibly stressed and anxious, and I was thinking we might need to go down and ask Harry if he’s seen a big red wallet. Mum was freaking out about losing her passport and getting stuck in Turkey and not knowing what to do, when I decided that I’d search her pack again. Within a minute I’d found the red wallet with her passport and credit card safely tucked inside. She’d put it in the wrong pocket! She’d borrowed my brother’s backpack and it has three pockets in the inside front of the pack – two mesh ones, where you can see what is inside and where it’s usually kept, and a long one behind these two which is not see through. She’d put it in there, and somehow hadn’t felt it [it’s pretty chunky] while searching her pack.
I’m a bit annoyed, as I didn’t get the chance to get a photo of Mum on the back of a motorbike and, while I did take a few pictures of our ransacked room after the lost-passport drama, they have mysteriously disappeared.