Cobblestoned streets and wooden Revival style homes.
LUNCH: The top balcony was a single table for two!
We found a small hotel with a dining room, hanging on the cliff’s edge close the tip of the peninsula. It was perfect, with a corner couch in front of a large picture window with the bay and sea as the backdrop. Walks to “new town”, further exploration of the “old town” more picture taking and hours reading between visits to the dining room filled the rest of our stay.
As is always the case, the mahala was quite separate from the city proper. He has done a great job integrating into his “work community” shopping at their little stores, visiting their cafes and in general living with them. He, and as an extension, Mike and I were invited to dinner by a friend of Chris’, a Romi and his family. We were picked up and after checking with us that we felt comfortable going into the mahala, we were off to dinner. The Romi and Turks have their own prejudicial attitudes toward each other, but are often forced into living with each other. This particular mahala has invisible boundaries with Romi or Turkish sections and streets. In general the Romi are poorer than the Turks, and thus live in the worst part of the mahala. So off to the very back corner we went. There certainly was a sense of familiarity about it, as it became more and more difficult to navigate through the people that have no other outdoor space to go to other than the unpaved, rutted streets. Abandoned scrap cars are playscapes for children, and crates, metal scraps or “whatever” are benches for watching the world go by!.