Mudbath! (The Ultimate Day Trip Of All Possible Day Trips!) by Alfred N. Muggins (from his recent holiday in Marmaris, Turkey!) Part 6 : In The Mudbath at Dalyan!

May 2022

Written 17/5/22 (11/7/22)

     There were people, a large party, possibly from Iran, on the large boat, who had enjoyed some dancing on the boat just before the chicken and rice lunch with little kebab meats.

      And there were reputed to be even some Russians, on the big boat, and on the smaller boats to the Turtle Beach and up the Dalyan River, which was a little awkward in the grave international circumstances of the moment! Alfred hoped he would not put his foot in it, but the chances were that he would have his diplomatic hat on anyway, and anyway he was more than a little scared of them, now he had seen what their leader, and quite a few of their soldiers and missile operators could get up to! (In Ukraine!)

     He was sure there must be a few Germans amongst them all too, and everything was alright between them and the British these days thankfully. The death (suicide!) of Adolph Hitler and the showing of the all too real pictures and film of the death camps to the German people had pretty much ended (buried!) Nazism there and then in 1945 and thereafter.

    Actually he hated to actually mention something so disturbing and upsetting, and in the middle of their lovely holiday, even if it was only in a piece of semi-humourous writing, but the communal act of going into a communal mudbath and a spring or pool of radioactive water with lots of other people of different nationalities did actually bring to mind unbidden thoughts of the holocaust. As a historian Alfred was not one to shy away from truth, or to ignore feelings, wherever they might bubble up from. The responses of ‘flocks’ of tourists going into the unknown mudbath and smearing all this dirty mud on themselves and each other, and going into a radioactive spring pool reminded him of a crowd being channeled or forced into ‘showers’ together, which actually turned into a gas chamber. Happily this tourist experience was one of a far more benign nature. But he was aware of issues of crowd direction and instruction, of the varied responsiveness of the tourists to the suggestions of the attendants and the tour guides. Trust and Faith, and confidence, can be projected into groups of people, but he was reminded of how easily that trust, faith, and confidence could be replaced by tricks and horror, and even death!

    (Alfred would of course apologise to Mrs Muggins for actually daring to mention the holocaust in a piece of holiday writing, for she might not be very pleased about it, and he was mentioning the Invasion of Ukraine as little as possible, even though it was only happening at this moment at the other side of Turkey and the Black Sea, not so far away really! Naturally it was bound to be on his mind in a place like this, at Marmaris, where Russian oligarchs and ordinary citizens alike, often came for their holidays and even for business. And in the marina area of Marmaris there were at least a couple of oligarch looking super yachts, quite probably owned by Russian oligarchs, and maybe even by Mr sPlutin himself. There were rumours that certain so called ‘peace talks’ might well have taken place in Marmaris, if not some other part of Turkey. Inadvertantly Alfred and his wife were here at the edge of the epicentre of possible world events!)

    Daughter In Law (Mermaid!) and Mrs Muggins’ second son (the Karaoke Star (Tsar?!)) had by now entered the mudbath pool now and were searching for mud. It seemed to Alfred that so many people had lifted the mud from the bottom of the pool that there was very little left! They were bending down and scooping bits of soft mud from the bottom to smear on their bodies, as everybody else had been doing.

    A slim young lady and her friend smeared mud on each other, sitting and even crawling in the muddy water. It was, in a sense, quite a sensuous act, but Alfred found the bottom of the mudbath pool a little stoney in places and he couldn’t see through the water, so he had become very wary. He washed the water over himself (not his head), but that was not enough it seemed. It was not muddy enough. He did not feel like wading all the way over to the other side of the (not so big) pool, looking for mud, because he didn’t want to tread on any more stones, or whatever else might be lurking there under the surface.

    His wife’s number 1 son, who was with him, gathered more mud to smear on himself, and smothered some on Alfred’s back and arms, but Alfred could not be bothered to do much more. He doubted very much that the mud really would extend his life. He actually thought it more likely that this dirty mud, shared by only God knew how many people was more likely to shorten his life than to extend it!

    When Alfred was trying to escape the Mudbath with Mrs Muggins’ eldest son a bee or a wasp (probably a wasp actually!) settled on his left upper arm, just where his vaccinations would be placed. He waved it away, and a small trickle of blood came out of his arm (don’t be alarmed – not that much!) He assumed he must have been stabbed by the wasp! But actually it did not leave more than a momentary prickle, so maybe he had been given a reprieve from the real sting? (Mrs Muggins threatened to give him an antihistimene tablet later – which never materialized because he had no reason to complain further, but he did put some magical sudocream on it (later at the hotel room), which Alfred fully believed was likely to do him far more good than any amount of mud or radioactive spa water!)

    At that moment, when he had nearly escaped the muddy water, the wasp had landed upon him unannounced and alone. The muddy water had bubbled and splashed as minute raindrops from a seemingly clear sky had landed on only the half or quarter of the pool into which he had to go to get out of the pool.

    Daughter in law (Mermudmaid!) called out from nearby, “It’s raining,” which confirmed what he had been observing, and that was when the wasp ‘stung’ him! Naturally, given their current position and situation, he immediately assumed that it was a sign from God, either of a punishment, or of an otherworldly wasp ‘vaccination’, which might give him eternal life, or at least further longevity.

    Very soon afterwards he also noticed for the first time a dead little fish, floating nearby on the muddy water. Surely these were omens of some sort, good or bad he could not say for sure. Perhaps he had been given longer life, or perhaps he was being given a warning (not to go into the radioactive spa pool?) or not to stay any longer in the mudbath? Or perhaps to get a move on, as most people had already showered off and gone in the radioactive pool, and been hosed down and were getting dressed!