The Continuing Saga Of The Speeding Ticket (Or The Tale Of The Lawbreaker Dan)

After I arrived in Göreme, I went to the Post Office to pay my speeding ticket. The office was closed, as the postmaster's wife had tragically died the day before after a long illness. So I waited until Monday to go again. 

On Monday, the office was open, and I waited in line to pay. My turn came, and I presented the ticket, holding the cash for payment in my other hand. Merriment ensued, as, Hey! The cops had caught an American!  From Alaska!  Funneeeee!

After much laughing and comments back and forth between those Turks present, the clerk got down to business, and started entering data in the computer. Wrinkles popped out on his brow. I surmised trouble was in the offing. I settled in for what was to come. 

After discussing the ticket with the Turkish fellow next to me, and making two calls on the phone, he handed me the ticket and said "Nevsehir" while pointing to the block where the license number of the bike was printed. He couldn't get the ticket to come up in their system because of the plate (OX AK).  Vanity has done me in!  

As I have not decided yet how to deal with this, this post is

TO BE CONTINUED. . .