A delightful cruise along the coast towards Caunos (or Kaunos), watching the sun rise – and managing to fall back to sleep on my glasses, an accentuated form of metal fatigue. Will have to replace them when I get home – and, in the meantime, will have to do without sunshades.
Kept an eye out for turtles, given that this is a breeding epicentre for them – but we did see them earlier in the journey, happily.
Snorkelling, I have also seen significantly more aquatic life this time than last, including a curtains of different types of fish, a ray, pipefish and an amazing scene involving an octopus that seemed to turned itself into something like a mobile blancmange, its colour whey-white and all its tentacles formed into something like a saucer.
Three fish in dramatic green and black colours had been dancing together above something like a small threshing floor on the seabed. Two on the outside fanned their fins, while the one in the middle simply hung motionless in the water, all three aligned and pointing in the same direction. As the octopus insinuated itself towards them, another fish, of a different species, darted in and out towards the octopus, as if accenting its presence. Sadly, had to leave before the drama fully played itself out.
Now back to Caunos. Switching to a smaller boat, we headed into the estuary, through the marshlands that once helped give local residents their unusual hue. Mosquitoes here carried malaria and those who lived in Caunos were well known for their green coloration, apparently.
By contrast, we loved this place – and I would have loved to have had time to climb up to the citadel. The view from up there must be utterly spectacular.