There is a place where one takes the tender when going ashore. Normally one ties up and goes about their business with no hassle from the locals. Alas one particular restaurateur got annoyed at the number of yotties tying up to his fence, and then walking through his restaurant without imbibing the obligatory beer. Fair enough, you might comment, but as a reaction to this the manager has now put up signs by the fence, which isn’t his as it turns out, saying ‘Guests only’.
Fethiye, named after a WW1 pilot who had the misfortune to crash into the local mountain range, was pretty much destroyed in the same earthquake that flattened Marmaris in 1958. Unlike Marmaris, however, this new-looking town isn’t ruined by the loud bars, gulet-full of lobster Brits-abroad puking up at every street corner, or aggressive stall-holders.
Putting the world to rights
In the evening neither Conny nor myself went ashore (so no postcard). Instead we sat on the deck drinking 50 cent wine (we’ve fully taken advantage of the ridiculously cheap wine in Spain) and put the world to rights. He believes the human race will eventually become borgs.