Unwelcome Guests

All was well when we last posted. We’d had a relaxing couple of days in Fethiye that we spent reading, writing, and taking dips in the pool. Evenings were dedicated to walks along the waterfront to the town center for delicious meals of mezes (Turkish cold and hot appetizers) and freshly caught fish.

Grilled fish, tzatiki, spicy tomato dip

Our hotel was fairly average, the cheap rate and swimming pool being the primary selling points. Our room was similarly basic: a double bed, thin white(ish) sheets, and a tiled bathroom with the usual low-pressure shower head. Not fancy. Functional. Okay for a three-night stay before our gulet cruise.

Upon check-in, a few yellow flags went up, the biggest being that our air-conditioner was broken. Our thermometer read 102 degrees; sleep would have been impossible. The staff fiddled with the settings for a few minutes, then offered to move us to another room the next day because the hotel was full that night.

Um, no. 102 degrees and rising in the south-facing room? No, we’ll pass on the heatstroke, thank you very much. So we packed our bags, moved out of the room, and told our Fez Travel guide that we needed help to find a new hotel. Suddenly the staff became much more lively – a technician was called, and two hours later the AC was purring away.

Our first two nights were uneventful. On the third day, Mark noticed two bites on his right ankle, and small blood stains on the sheets. A few mosquitoes had been buzzing us at the pool, so we figured that Mark had been bitten by a mosquito and scratched it in his sleep. The third night our illusions were stripped away.

It’s 2 AM. Mark feels something crawling on him and turns on the light. He wakes me up, and we start examining the bed. At first, we don’t see anything out of the ordinary (except that these sheets would make a good candidate for the “before” shot for a laundry soap commercial). So we pull back the sheet and look at the mattress. Old and worn, stained with the secretions and blood of previous guests. And in the dingiest corner, near where Mark’s head had rested, we spot them.

BED BUGS.

Tons of them, scurrying into the seams of the mattress. We’re no strangers to bed bugs, but we’d never seen so many. Some were the size of a pinkie fingernail, others no bigger than a pencil point.

We grab toilet paper and start squishing them. Every third kill or so, we’d hear a small pop, followed by blood on the tissue. Shudder and cringe – these little suckers have been feeding on us! Well, on Mark – even the bugs know he’s sweeter than I 🙂

An hour later, the massacre was over. Us: 100, Bed Bugs: 2. We knew the hotel was full again so we pulled out our sleep sheets and tried to sleep with our heads facing the other direction.

Bed Bug Carnage

The next morning, the hotel manager came to our room and blanched when he saw the remains of the night. He seemed genuinely surprised and disgusted, and apologized profusely. With no request from us, he comped our entire stay. And then he called a fumigator to take care of the room.

We showered, packed, showered again, and got out of there as fast as possible. Fingers crossed we don’t have any tagalongs!