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Other entries in Gallipoli

My god, the cold

The bus trip to Gallipoli will be forever remembered for the 6 hour running commentary from the guy sitting next to Tanko about the ins and outs of his very lucrative telemarketing business. Did you know he could make 35 this month? I was shocked.

The dawn service at Gallipoli is locked down tighter than the White House - again, firearms everywhere and a full pat down for everyone entering. We had little idea just how friggin cold it was going to be - a fact illustrated in our lack of sleeping bags, which were quite the accessory of choice for those in the know. We got in there at 1130pm and got some seats up in the back of the stands ready for the wait. 6 hours. Then the wind began. My god - we were rugged up to within an inch of our lives, but the lack of warmth from the legs was astounding. We took turns lying on the floor of the stands with the other two's legs over us and a rat hair blanket we purchased for 20YTL over the lot of us (Tanko had arrived by this stage obviously). With the sun up we figured the worst of the cold was over, but the Lone Pine service was an exercise in ball tearing cold that this little black duck will not forget - wind burn all round. The people sleeping on the graves at Lone Pine was a bit of a bummer too. No two up either! I was shocked. 

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