So we left Gocek again and went on round the corner to the safe, green waters of Boyuz Buku. Our friends’ boat was obvious…and they joined us within a few minutes, in their dinghy. Spontaneous and warm reunion on hold while we fiddled about with the anchor – parking the boat safely always has to come first!
This was a brief encounter before continuing south to the piratically-named 22 Fathom Cove, And there we met Regip and his extraorinarily (whoops, over-use of adverbs alert!) colourful homestead. Or rather boatstead, since his Amigos restaurant has a boat as its hub, with various sorts of satelite installations on shore (as in, ovens, fireplaces, table and chairs. No Sky here!).
We ate wild boar, the hunting of which, although explained in Turkish, did contain the un mistakable ‘Blam, blam, blam!’ by way of explanation.
The ‘soundscape’ in the morning was incredible: a gobbling turkey competing with a cockerel; wild birds and clucking hens, goats bleating and their bells tinkling; a cow mooing and fish jumping..I’m afraid my modest sketch is a bit tame: