top of page

Mechanic's shoes

The tea was flowing freely and the cigarettes were being smoked. The air was warm and the late Friday afternoon feeling was beginning to fall. Covid hadn't hit them all too hard, after all people were opting for travelling in their own cars rather than risk a journey on the crammed metrobüs. There was work to be done and thus money to be made. The car mechanics were a friendly lot, the ones involved in more technical engine reconditioning or the re-boring of cylinders came across as older and a little wiser; less inclined to hurry. The younger ones were the body work paint sprayers or the general servicers of the vehicles which came in. The owner of one particular workshop would swing by most afternoons, have a tea and a chat with whoever was around and then move on. He flitted from Germany to Istanbul keeping an eye on his assets and looking out for his growing family. The young mechanic dropped by and swiftly drank his tea, eager to get on with the work.



bottom of page