I’m not entirely sure why this happened: when the depth is over 100m the gauge normally just shows ‘—m’. I’ve never seen it show a reading like that before and I can only assume it was a shoal of fish, or one big fish, attracted by the sound of the boat’s chugging, monotone engine. Either that or a Turkish submarine was f***ing with us.
Finike, Turkey to Girne, Northern Cyprus Read Post »
As sure as eggs is eggs after WWI, when the Young Turks had foolishly backed the wrong side and lost, the Brits took total control of this strategically important piece of land, and in 1925 Britain formerly declared the island a crown colony. There was much dancing and celebrating in the street at this turn of events (I jest). This is an excerpt from Liz’s excellent introduction to Cyprus.
Cyprus: Brits abroad? Raving to garridge in Aya Napa? Thronging beaches marauded by decapod-crustacean-skinned Essex girls? A fat, besmirched whore of a destination, over-pimped, blighted and past her sell-by date.
Halloumi Cheese, Anyone? Read Post »
The further east we travel the happier I am. It’s so much more “Turkish”, if you know what I mean, much less “Cowes à la Turk”. I have to agree with them, though, it is very hot here. All of us have become quite lethargic and have found it more and more difficult to get motivated. One night when we were anchored just outside Kas (pronounced “cash”) I decided to liven us all up a bit.
We’ve been chilling out in some beautiful places though, taking in Kas, Kastelorizon, Kalkan and other places beginning with ‘K’, with plenty of pics to accompany stories of ancient Lycian tombs and angry French cons.
Can Someone Please Turn The Oven Down? Read Post »
