After lunch, (three courses, every day, weight watchers beware) I went over to the design block to talk to the designers of the new news sets, which were now being manufactured. I expressed concern that parts of the set were going right up to the wall and would restrict access to the various cable sockets on the studio wall. The designers said that they would move the set away from the walls. As the set was already the full width of the studio, I wasn't sure how they were going to achieve that. I asked to see a scale plan so that I could prepare a lighting plan. Well, there has to be a first time. Eventually, one was produced.

That evening, I tried to approach the rather nice TRT restaurant via an internal route, but the Byzantine intricacy of TRT's megapolis had already defeated me on two of the three nights that I had been there. I usually end up at the wrong end of a security mans long torch. Tonight was one of those, so I ended up walking around the outside of the building in temperatures that would have embarrassed a brass monkey. On approaching the main entrance, one could not help but notice several elongated black Mercedes limos complete with darkened windows and multi litre motors murmuring as they kept their unseen chauffeurs warm.

My usual table was displaced a little to make way for what was clearly a ministerial bunch of Turkish Gourmets.  Some twenty of Ankara's finest were enjoying the same grub as I. The manager confided in me that not only did he have some 60 covers, but he was down four waiters on a normal night. Certainly I realised he was multi tasking when he later sprayed the air above me in the gentlemen's toilet. Or maybe he just didn't approve of my deodorant.
 

My friend Orhan who played in the VIP restaurant most evenings.

As always, there was an accomplished musician/singer who provided background music. With his keyboard and multiple synthesisers Orhan lured diners to the small dance area between courses or even between Turkish cigarettes. At least this dining room had a high ceiling; many of the areas that I worked were shared with smokers of the aromatic but toxic substance called tobacco. 

I noticed that many offices, working areas and cars, which could easily offer ventilation, were in fact operating on a closed system so that you had to 'enjoy' the noxious stuff time and time again. Not for the faint hearted (or lunged).

I finished the evening with a little homework, plotting in the News studio and proposed set into my laptop.

Day 5

A little about breakfast. As I leave my room, there is a tantalising smell of cooked breakfast, which gradually disappears as I near the breakfast bar. There, one finds a long table laid out with fresh bread rolls, two kinds of cheese, one not unlike Edam, the other a salty, crumbly variety; similar to Feta cheese, black olives, and cartons of honey and jams. But never anything cooked!

Shortly after I have sat down to my Asian breakfast, a smiling waiter brings me a cup of coffee. In an effort to please, having ordered coffee on my first day, it now arrives religiously, although I would quite like to ring the changes and have tea, I don't want to offend my hosts by seeming ungracious!