The tourist-gouging season has begun, best of luck to the nation

We have sacrificed our sacrificial animals.

May God be pleased with the Red Crescent.

There was no one left who didn't sacrifice an animal this year.

Our nation managed to handle the sacrifice, which costs an average of 30-40 thousand liras in Turkey, for 7 thousand liras through the Red Crescent.

At almost one-fifth of the price.

I request more of this supply and demand.

Our noble nation, instead of spending the Eid al-Adha, which coincided with a long holiday this year, in holiday resorts, returned to the old ways and went to the villages.

It is clear they did not want to be gouged in holiday regions.

In previous years, while walking on the beach in Çeşme, I was captivated by the allure of a doner kebab.

Since the price was quite reasonable, we went in as a family and had a good meal.

When the bill arrived, my eyes widened in shock.

The total price had officially doubled.

When I examined it, I saw that they had added the price of four kebabs to the bill for the watermelon we ordered for the table while eating the kebab.

In the middle of summer, for a watermelon that costs five liras per kilo, they had shoved the price of four portions of kebab onto us.

We paid the money while grumbling and barely managed to throw ourselves out of the restaurant, saying at least let's save our lives.

Meanwhile, in a video that came across my feed, they were selling a scoop of ice cream to a German tourist for 190 liras and had added an extra 60 liras for the cone.

They charged 250 liras for a scoop of ice cream.

It seems they pinned the German down, threw him on his back, and shook him two or three times for good measure.

A similar incident happened to me in Kaş.

The barker of the establishment, who thought I was a foreigner, said, "Brother, you come, it will be half price for you," once he realized I was Turkish.

It was clear that the barker's livelihood came from the tourists he gouged.

More painful and dire than all these conditions, I fled my homeland and threw myself into Lesbos.

The island shopkeepers, realizing I was Turkish, hosted me at quite reasonable prices instead of gouging me.

They played songs by İbrahim Tatlıses on the bouzouki.

They served legendary appetizers.

There is no need to even describe the seafood.

It is clear that Turkish tourism is at a crossroads.

It will either survive by applying basic moral rules and the principles of the Ahi brotherhood, or it will both sink itself and leave the country without foreign currency.