....occasioned by sitting in the garden yesterday afternoon, eating sis kofte and mezes, listening to Turkish music, and drinking a shedload of raki. And wine and beer. It was an absolutely beautiful day yesterday - not bad today either. The hawthorns overhanging the garden are in full bloom: their, to put it mildly, heady perfume overarches all the other smells. Nur wrinkled her nose when she smelt it.
'Paul, it stinks of shit out here!'
'It's just the hawthorn.'
It doesn't smell of shit at all; If anything, it smells like sex, that combination of sweat and saliva and come. Whether this is incredibly erotic or nauseating is pretty much down to how you view it.
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