However driving with an amateur photographer can be a nuisance. When a field of wildflowers pops up, the driver is commanded to stop and has to search frantically for somewhere to pull in before he has gone too far past. My poor long-suffering husband!
|Field of Poppies|
We continued on our journey, with only one more photo stop, though İ was itching to take some unusual wildflowers at the side of the road. But we would never get anywhere if İ kept that up, and divorce might be looming closer.
We arrived at Kavaklidere to discover it was market day. We were lucky to find a place to park, as half the countryside was in town. Everywhere we went we were greeted with smiles. İ don't think they have too many foreign tourists here. As we got out of the car, the thunder rolled.
|Flower detail in the window of the Mosque|
We wandered through the shops. As usual everywhere you go your hear the tap tap tap as the copper smiths ply their trade. I have posted about this village previously. Kavaklıdere and the Copper smiths We visited last October. Metin our friend brought two of my friends and I to see the craftsmen at work.
|Master craftsman at work|
Amazingly, in two of the shops where we had purchased some (lots) of their crafts they remembered me. Obviously once met never forgotten!! But what was even more amazing was that in the second shop, one of the men, reached into a drawer and handed me a dusty camera case. Metin had left it behind him in October and they had kept it. What an wonderful memory. I can hardly remember my own name some days. Even if I found a case and put it in a drawer, it would be half an hour after the owner left, if ever, that I would remember I had it.
|Beating the Copper|
|Ottoman Style Water Jug|
He worked in the tourism industry in Marmaris, in a restaurant where his brother was the chef. The season was late starting. Normally he would be at work by now, but he would start until the following week. Therefore he was at a loose end. İf we needed any help or advice on places to visit in the locality he would be more than happy to help. Then it was coffees all around on the house. This is typical of true Turkish hospitality.
|Sitting in the upstairs window, working and watching the world go by.|