Our evening meal for this evening was at a place called Yasar Baba. Every week they host a night of traditional Turkish dancing, which includes folk dances, a belly dance and plenty of audience participation. We were warned that if you sit on the outer edge of the horseshoe shaped table, you are more likely to be picked on. We chose to sit in the very middle, as did Brent, who ended up getting picked out on two separate occassions.
It was the second of these audience participation moments that provided the biggest laugh yet for our group, as Brent joined five other 'victims' who had their shirts removed and did their best to copy the movements of the belly dancer. As he waited for the events to unfold, he said to one of his fellow victims: "Those who are about to die, we salute you". When prompted to remove his top he duly obliged, then suggested that the belly dancer reciprocate. She didn't oblige back.
Meanwhile, Robert snapped away with his camera (at the belly dancer, not Brent!) and Neil looked on wistfully (again, not at Brent). Later on, when we boarded the bus, Neil slurred his way through the arrangements for the following morning (each and every slur getting an unintended laugh), then confessed his undying love for Belma, saying: "I bring 18 people here every two weeks and she doesn't even know me. And I don't even know her name!