Loudspeaker (seems like the wrong word because it’s really not offensively loud) broadcasts the adhan, or call to prayer, from local mosques five times a day. Occasionally there are other messages broadcast, for example on the anniversary of the death of some important personage. Since these are in Turkish, we obviously don’t understand them, although on public holidays it’s easy enough to guess the import.
This morning there is a soft spoken message - woman’s voice. Followed pretty shortly by the unusual sound of a plane overhead. We’re not on a normal flight path. Can only assume that we’re not about to be attacked. If there were a major problem it would show up pretty quickly on the internet. Quite a change from the early days of our travels when we carried a little shortwave radio, purveyor mainly of static. Ear pressed to the speaker and thumb twiddling the dial hoping for English. Well aware that World War Three could break out and we would have no clue. Which might have had its advantages.
But nothing worse than more rain. Does seem a pity that there’s drought in the growing season and then rain in the winter - though much more sun than rain even in winter. And inside making soup from the chicken carcass, eating the rest of the olive bread, reading books, listening to jazz. No complaints.
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