Start the morning with coffee in our little walled courtyard garden. As long as the doors are shut it’s not necessary to wear more than night attire. The passion flower vine is beginning to grow across the open non-roof and will eventually cover it, making shade whether the doors are open or shut. Can hear the pigeons cooing and also, a little more distantly, a rooster - possibly related to the source of the local eggs sold by the shop owner round the corner. More distantly than that - although not half a mile away - the deep tone of a ship in the harbour.
Supper On the deck at Fa Kebab round the corner. Would like to have şeftali, the grilled Cypriot sausages that seem to appear nowhere else (Greek sheftalia). My Turkish dictionary has never heard of it. It’s becoming a running joke at the restaurant as the few times we’ve eaten there we’ve tried to order it and always been told that it’s “finished“. So I tease the man a little. But if we came earlier we could have it? Oh yes. Can’t pin him down on how early. Suspect that they haven’t had any for weeks. Reminder of the Polish menu. In Poland it is quite common for a menu - printed, or even handwritten on the wall - to list everything that might ever be on offer, and we learned to ask at the outset what was available before wasting time and optimism on impossible choices.
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