My encounter with Jeremy Thorpe, the dodgy diplomat and Anubis, God of the Underworld
When I did my TEFL course in 1996 aged 23, I lived in a house for 5 weeks with a Turkish fella called Ahmed and a girl from somewhere in Central Europe called Simone. Once I completed the course and having become quite friendly with Ahmed, he invited me over to Antalya in Turkey saying I could stay with his family while I looked for teaching work, a chance I jumped at without hesitation - free accommodation, whoopee!
Upon arrival I was met by someone holding a sign with my name and informed by them that Ahmed's father was otherwise engaged so I would be staying with his friend, Fethi (pictured left below), a local diplomat
and I was whisked away in a Mercedes with a flag on the front (put on occasionally) and a blue light. Everyone was very pleasant and I didn't mind in the slightest - in fact it was quite exciting.
I shared the bottom flat of Fethi's apartment with his servant, a strange chap who spoke no English whatsoever and stared at the floor a lot from a big, scarred face .
Fethi was a busy bod and I didn't see that much of him really but when I did, he was always polite and helpful to me. He treated the servant, Ahmet, with utter contempt a lot of the time, but in Turkish so I have no idea what the raised voices concerned. He could've been vocalising his displeasure at Ahmet for something horrific he'd done or chastising him for not washing up properly for all I knew though I suspected the latter was closer to the truth.
After a couple of weeks Fethi took me to one side and said I need to earn my keep a bit and to do this all I had to do was nip down to the beach and invite girls to a party at the apartment at the weekend. Every weekend. I agreed to this knowing full well that I was not the type of person who could just walk up to a girl I don't know and invite her to a party, let alone one after the other. I figured I would do the first bit - go to the beach, and then sort of forget the next bit and claim I wasn't having any luck. And it worked a treat - Fethi got fed up and stopped bugging me about it after a while. Apart from not being confident enough, I was uncomfortable with the idea of young girls being plied with alcohol by Fethi (which he'd already bought) and god knows who else. Just the fact he was asking me to round up young girls was an indication he was a bit dodgy and made me uneasy so it was best all round if I just failed at my task.If you are wondering why I continued to get free accommodation, Fethi wanted to practice his English and I worked out more economical and convenient than proper lessons.
Then one day I was told to wear my smartest clothes because someone important and supposedly famous was coming that evening to present a statue. I think I was invited so that Jeremy and his entourage would have someone with whom they could converse in English and generally keep the conversation flowing. I was told to keep it quiet because he was famous which didn't sound too unusual. I didn't have a clue who Jeremy Thorpe was and had little interest in politics at the time. If I had, I'd have paid much more attention and made an effort to remember more.
Everyone was very friendly and it seemed everything was centred on Jeremy. His wife, Marion stayed by his side most of the time and her friend along with anther chap were happy to discuss my trivial life, or at least faked enough interest to lead me to believe they were happy.
I remember being startled at how Thorpe was in conversation. He listened intently, extremely intently to what was being said and then waited for a split second longer than anyone else before replying. In this split second he managed to formulate an impeccable reply, both grammatically and substance wise. He reminded me of Ry Cooder writing music with just the right notes at the right time - not too much or too little and every note there for a reason like pieces of a jigsaw.
I don't think we discussed anything of great importance and my overwhelming memory of the experience is that he was probably the cleverest person I've ever met and certainly the most engaging in conversation. Having said this, he was quite intimidating in the way he stared at me. I have no idea if this is how everyone felt but there was certainly a creepy side to the way he looked at you.
There was some official speaking and some documents were signed and then they all went away.
It was only years later following the introduction of the Internet and after watching Peter Cook's "Trial" skit that I learned who it was that I'd met. And then there were other allegations made about Thorpe's links with Cyril Smith etc so I dug out the photos and recognised the statue as Anubis, god of the underworld.
I have no idea why Jeremy Thorpe was presenting a statue of Anubis, often associated with cults and the masons to a dodgy diplomat in Turkey and am now kicking myself that I hadn't asked more questions or if I did, remember asking them.
Upon arrival I was met by someone holding a sign with my name and informed by them that Ahmed's father was otherwise engaged so I would be staying with his friend, Fethi (pictured left below), a local diplomat
and I was whisked away in a Mercedes with a flag on the front (put on occasionally) and a blue light. Everyone was very pleasant and I didn't mind in the slightest - in fact it was quite exciting.
I shared the bottom flat of Fethi's apartment with his servant, a strange chap who spoke no English whatsoever and stared at the floor a lot from a big, scarred face .
Fethi was a busy bod and I didn't see that much of him really but when I did, he was always polite and helpful to me. He treated the servant, Ahmet, with utter contempt a lot of the time, but in Turkish so I have no idea what the raised voices concerned. He could've been vocalising his displeasure at Ahmet for something horrific he'd done or chastising him for not washing up properly for all I knew though I suspected the latter was closer to the truth.
After a couple of weeks Fethi took me to one side and said I need to earn my keep a bit and to do this all I had to do was nip down to the beach and invite girls to a party at the apartment at the weekend. Every weekend. I agreed to this knowing full well that I was not the type of person who could just walk up to a girl I don't know and invite her to a party, let alone one after the other. I figured I would do the first bit - go to the beach, and then sort of forget the next bit and claim I wasn't having any luck. And it worked a treat - Fethi got fed up and stopped bugging me about it after a while. Apart from not being confident enough, I was uncomfortable with the idea of young girls being plied with alcohol by Fethi (which he'd already bought) and god knows who else. Just the fact he was asking me to round up young girls was an indication he was a bit dodgy and made me uneasy so it was best all round if I just failed at my task.If you are wondering why I continued to get free accommodation, Fethi wanted to practice his English and I worked out more economical and convenient than proper lessons.
Then one day I was told to wear my smartest clothes because someone important and supposedly famous was coming that evening to present a statue. I think I was invited so that Jeremy and his entourage would have someone with whom they could converse in English and generally keep the conversation flowing. I was told to keep it quiet because he was famous which didn't sound too unusual. I didn't have a clue who Jeremy Thorpe was and had little interest in politics at the time. If I had, I'd have paid much more attention and made an effort to remember more.
Everyone was very friendly and it seemed everything was centred on Jeremy. His wife, Marion stayed by his side most of the time and her friend along with anther chap were happy to discuss my trivial life, or at least faked enough interest to lead me to believe they were happy.
I remember being startled at how Thorpe was in conversation. He listened intently, extremely intently to what was being said and then waited for a split second longer than anyone else before replying. In this split second he managed to formulate an impeccable reply, both grammatically and substance wise. He reminded me of Ry Cooder writing music with just the right notes at the right time - not too much or too little and every note there for a reason like pieces of a jigsaw.
There was some official speaking and some documents were signed and then they all went away.
It was only years later following the introduction of the Internet and after watching Peter Cook's "Trial" skit that I learned who it was that I'd met. And then there were other allegations made about Thorpe's links with Cyril Smith etc so I dug out the photos and recognised the statue as Anubis, god of the underworld.
I have no idea why Jeremy Thorpe was presenting a statue of Anubis, often associated with cults and the masons to a dodgy diplomat in Turkey and am now kicking myself that I hadn't asked more questions or if I did, remember asking them.
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