Dear Dear (a letter from Peak, Istanbul)

Dear Dear,

I am here, in the Peak Hotel (since 1961). I haven’t been here that long, not quite, but nearly.

Dear Dear,

I came in on the TK 1980, from London City. I can’t remember much of what happened between then (1980) and then (1961), unless I try really hard, it kind of means nothing though it is everything I am.

Now I am here, although it is dark, and cold, and rainy, it feels like a good place to be. I have a partial view of the Sea of Marmara and total view of the Pera Taxi Rank plus a large choice of TV channels and free tea and coffee. Though the minibar is extra, it feels like a good place to be

7th March 2010

Dear Dear,
I went out in search of delight for you. No joy so far. But in the street filled with music stores and handy graffiti someone offered me a memory upgrade. It came in the form of a free download. How could I refuse? All I had to do was press yes. I accept.

But nobody prepared me for the bitter, biting cold. It’s the end of a winter but it’s not over yet. So now I am back at Peak. Waiting to perform, or whatever it is called.

Oh Dear,

And I did find a little. Delight. I almost forgot. In a round wooden box. Like it was made for cheese. I hope it is delightful, you know I always aim to please.