It’s dusk but the evening’s thick with heat (yet again). So strange to be sat outside wrapped in warmth as it gets dark. A few days into the holiday we’ve acquired a bit of a pattern – sitting out on the terrace, high up, looking out across the old town rooftops towards the bay and Cunda Island beyond. Pre-evening meal, ice-cold drink. It’s a moment you wait for – when the Muezzin begins the Call to Prayer at about 8.15pm.
Canon announcing end of today’s Ramadan fast booms out. Makes me jump even though I’m expecting it – the sound ricochets about the bay, bouncing off cliffs and sea. The day’s been scorchingly hot – even by Turkey’s standards – but now the cool of the evening is taking over and there’s a strong breeze blowing in from the sea, laden with scents of the town – dust, flowers, things cooking. Can hear the Muezzin now, echoed by another further away – a relay of them! Sounds snaking around in the air. Aware of the fierce, strong physical sense of the place – of just feeling really alive. The warmth, sounds, sights and smells are totally crunched together. No room for other thoughts.