Eyes idealise many situations. Take in and feed the brain with an exponential amount of visual stimuli. Most gets trashed. Peripheral images get discarded. Yet sometimes the focus hones in. A sensitive nerve ending touches an inner emotion. Causes a reaction.
On Hunkar and Gulay’s recommendation, we go take a look at Cunda town, a short 8K drive from camp. It’s on our way north. A much earlier than usual, or ever planned walkabout. It’s a seaside/harbour resort. The narrow cobbled streets overflow with cafes, bars, hotels and shops. A marketing photographer’s delight. It borders on chic in places. Curiosity leads us on a random path. No plan other than to search and look. We wander. Inwardly wonder what it would be like to live here. Could we? Possibly.
Surprise, surprise. We find ourselves in the ex-Greek refurbished church of Michael and Gabriel, which now houses a fascinating museum of industrial items.
As we’re still swirling around the idea of whether we could live here . . . we receive an answer from the Almighty himself . . . NO!!!
Tonight’s one-nighter at Guzelyali Camlik Park Kamp finds us pitched up next to a rarity. A Yorkshire couple. They’ve been out on the road since January. Home rented out. No definite return date. A lucky find. An out of sight grub screw has come loose within Beastie’s chemical toilet housing. Mr S is unable to figure out why he can’t replace the cassette. Done it hundreds of times before. Fiddles around like a furtive Shylock. Hands getting grubbier and grubbier. Jim has been there, done that. So, after his nod and a wink, Mr S does likewise. Sorted. Pocket picked.
This site is situated high up in a pine forest. It has potential. But what kind is unclear.