Currently sat in ‘Ray’s Restaurant’ - the buffet car of the Mavı Express train to Adana. Great train by the way, we even have a fridge for our beer. Thing is, there appears to be a distinct lack of Ray. I don’t know where or who he is but I’m pretty sure he would have the skills to sort out this breakfast situation we have found ourselves in.
“Freestyle wha’? We no ‘freestyle’ breakfast, “ said the young waiter, who clearly was not Ray but was still wearing his bow-tie with pride. “We have jam wi‘ breakfast. Whole breakfast. Breakfast no. Jam no.”
“But I don‘t want olives or yellow cheese or boiled egg or coffee… just bread and jam and butter and fried egg,” said Aaron, jabbing at the pictures on the menu and looking more and more agitated by the second.
“Yes, wi’ breakfast. Whole breakfast. Only come together. You wan‘ breakfast?”
“No! I don’t. I want bread. Errrrrrr…ehmek?“
“Yes, ehmek,” replied the boy.
“Egg. Errrrrrr….“ said Aaron, scratching his head and poring over the Lonely Planet phrase book. “Ummmm, yumurta?”
“Ah,” said the boy. “Egg!”
“Yes! And jam for the bread?”
Brightly dressed cotton pickers and fields of white poppies passed the window as I held my breath.
“Wha’ jam?“ said the waiter, straightening his bow-tie. “No jam. Jam wi’ breakfast. Come together. You wan‘ breakfast yes?”
I won’t bore you with the rest of the fifteen-minute exchange. Aaron didn’t get his jam. Or butter. It took the Swiss guy behind us at least ten minutes to upgrade his small cup of tea to a large mug and the only Rays that appeared were sunrays - hoo-ray.
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