Back in the UK, I didn’t know anybody who would rub their hands in glee at the thought of an appointment with their dentist. Who in their right minds succumbs willingly to being trussed up in a plastic bib, forced into an “electric chair” and then allowing a complete stranger dressed in a white coat to stick his or her hands -- even when hygienically gloved -- in your mouth? The mounting feeling of panic is further compounded by the ensuing conversation instigated by this torturer that generally requires more answers than you are able to convey through nods and eye movements. At the end of the ordeal, which will certainly have involved fear if not actual pain, a large amount of money will be extracted from your bank account. What has this unpleasant experience got to do with a holiday? But if the adverts were to be believed, many people were coming to spend their precious holidays, not to bask in the sun or relish the natural or cultural beauty spots of Mediterranean Antalya but to visit a dentist! Wedding tourism I could understand, weddings and holidays at least in theory have the element of fun in common -- but not dentistry.

After the first year of living here, I decided it was time to brave a trip to a dentist and took the recommendation of a friend. Being a fairly busy sort of person and a little lazy, I opted to follow my friend’s advice mostly because this particular practice was less than a minute’s walk from my house. In Antalya, judging by the number of “diş hekimi” signs, it seems there are any number of dentists to choose from. This is not so in the UK, where in order to see a dentist without parting with an unseemly amount of money you either have to subscribe to a national health dentist -- although these are now a virtually extinct breed -- or pay a large amount of your hard-earned cash each month into an insurance policy. Even if you are prepared to pay, getting an appointment can involve weeks or months of forward planning; as I taught full time, I generally had to save this pleasurable outing for myself and my assorted kids to fit in with term holidays. This was never a popular way for anyone to start a break.

So it was with some trepidation that I rang the bell of Fehmi Bildik’s rather unprepossessing second floor surgery with the view to making an appointment for a date sometime in the distant future. I climbed the rather grubby staircase, donned the obligatory blue plastic shoe coverings and began to ask in my well-rehearsed Turkish for an appointment for a general check up. Before I’d completed my request, and without realizing what was happening, I found myself wrapped in a bib and reclining in the chair with my mouth open. I had no idea what Fehmi Bey told me about the state of my teeth. Not only was I in shock but he also spoke faster than a Turkish TV newsreader. I had no idea how to express “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” with my eyes. Five minutes later, I was off the chair and nervously ferreting in my bag for my purse, wishing I had had the time to negotiate the price in advance. However, my attempts to pay were waived away. “Next time”, said my new dentist, “if there is a problem.” I have continued to visit this guy regularly for checkups, cleaning and the occasional filling. Each time I have had reliable, prompt and efficient treatment available both in the evenings and even on Saturdays, and I have never had to part with more than TL 50 a time, and quite frankly, I have suffered more pain traveling on an Antlaya dolmuş! I was half way to understanding the concept of “dental holidays.”

First there was my stepfather, Andrew. My parents had become regular visitors to Antalya, enjoying swapping the bleak and dreary grayness of Sheffield for the brilliant blue skies and warm spring and autumn Mediterranean sunshine. Hearing of the discovery of my local dentist, Andrew deliberately saved some rather tricky root canal treatment for his next visit. He was especially thrilled when he realized that the saving he would make by having the work done here would more than pay for his return flight from the UK. Despite the many weeks he has spent here and despite, or perhaps because of the fact that he is fluent in at least three other languages, the only Turkish words Andrew can reliably remember is “iki bira lütfen.” Useful on occasions but clearly this was not going to help communication with the dentist. I went with him for the initial consultation but had to leave him to it for the follow-up visits. All seemed to be going well until I received an urgent phone call from him while I was in the middle of teaching a class. “I need to know how to say ‘the gum at the back really hurts’ and I need it NOW!” He gasped. I had no idea of the word for “gum” plus I was busy, so I promised to ring him back as soon as I could. However, by the time I found time to work out the translation, my resourceful stepfather had used his laptop to look up the Turkish and copied it down for the ever-patient dentist, who was somewhat perplexed that Andrew was complaining about the terrible ache in his “chewing gum” but through a considerable amount of exaggerated pointing the penny finally dropped.

Next came daughter number two, Isabel, who for some reason had grown too many teeth, too close together and needed a couple of extractions. All through her childhood she had regularly visited a national health dentist, but having recently become a student, she had moved away from her hometown (and also because she is amazingly disorganized), she had not been for an appointment for well over a year, thus disqualifying her from receiving any treatment. “Never mind” I said, “come for a holiday and all will be sorted.” A free holiday is not something any student can afford to turn down, and in between lazing on the beach, swimming and shopping trips, she fitted in having two teeth pulled out. I, of course, paid not only for her flight but also for her dental treatment; however, it was worth every last lira not only to see more of my toothy daughter but also to feel like a useful mother. Another satisfied customer.

My other daughter had an unfortunate encounter which involved a bicycle, her face and the pavement a few months ago. Her face soon recovered but her teeth are in need of much attention. I’m hoping she will decide to take the Antalya dental holiday route, all expenses paid.

So over the years, I have not only begun to change my opinion of visits to the dentist in general, but also of the whole rather brilliant idea of combining some unpleasant oral medical work with a holiday. Recuperating from fillings, extractions, crowns or root canal work by swimming and sunbathing works wonders.