The holiday properly started the next day after rejuvenating with a healthy Turkish breakfast and lashings of coffee and tea we met up with some other Yotties and like the stereotypical brits abroad headed off into the midday sun for a walk round the village. This was a useful orientation exercise and a chance to pass the time of the day bumping into some of the locals as most of the time would be spent on the boat. The village was pretty authentic and one could be forgiven for thinking that it was still only driven by subsistence farming but perhaps this was just a romantic ideal. Wherever we went the locals would beckon us over we try their fresh made doughnuts or other freshly made local offering and would not be happy till we had stuffed our faces and mostly didn’t want money but just to break bread with a fellow man.
The local village men preparing for afternoon prayer.
The rest of the afternoon was spent organically catching up with Jamie and important man’s talk, you know the kind of thing I’m sure, accompanied by a beer then one more and another, and a swim and another beer etc etc.
Much later Jamie impressed not just our immediate party but everyone at poolside by performing a series of beautifully executed complex dives. I think this one was a reverse back somersault with triple pike from memory [which wasn’t too good by then].
I believe we retired relatively early that evening…