Morning sail to Agalimani, one of my favourite places on the journey. En route, the Turkish flag at the stern gently embraces my neck as I ponder the passing wavescape and as the wind changes back and forth.
(But makes me think of the garrotting once practised in the palaces and prisons of Turkish palaces and prisons alike, with silken cords sometimes used for those of royal blood.)
We walk up through pine forest, with me herding and supporting one or two older members of the group, encouraging them to persevere – because of what waits at the end. The ruins of the ancient settlement of Lydae.
I love cisterns and, though not wildly sophisticated, the one shown here is one of my favourites of all time.
The sage tea, too, was delicious – and the puppy, like pretty much like most animals we had come across, made a bee-line for Mary.
Though we bought some honey from the couple who run the end-of-the-world homestead that was our ultimate destination, I didn’t see the beehives this time, nor the baited dishes full of dead hornets – a predator on honeybees.
An odd combination of the primeval and the bang up-to-date, with modernity signalled by things including a rusty satellite dish corralled within a wooden fence and a photovoltaic array tucked away behind the farmhouse.