Yes, I know that it is spelt wrong but there is such a thing as poetic licence.

We are back in Turkey in a place called Turgetreis just to clear customs and be on our way.

We have just crossed over from Kos, which was an interesting place. We’re not been there before and went wandering into town last night exercising the ubiquitous “free time”. Kos town has a decidedly Turkish feel to it even though they have converted to the mosque into a shopping arcade – something which even with my decidedly jaundiced view of religion, I find rather disrespectful and inappropriate.

Today we went up into the hills above town to a delightful little village called Zia. Having had it described to us as a ‘tourist village’, we feared the worst, but were personally surprised. The view was magnificent and the people friendly and charming.

Earlier in the day we experienced a 5.1 magnitude earthquake – quite an experience as we have been to Greece many times and never felt the slightest tremor. To put this in perspective, this is the same magnitude that caused devastation in Spain a few days back.

A charming Greek lady was telling us that this was the worst quake that they are experienced in 35 years and it knocked all the stock off her shelves. She said she was terrified and immediately felt for her children’s safety. The shop is 90 years old and made of stone, but her father assured that the house will stand forever but then added “but the floor may collapse”.

We are now across the straits in Turgetreis – or as we have branded it ‘Purgatory’ – moored in a huge yatching marina and looking at the endless rows of little white boxes that they shove tourists into.

We can’t help thinking that the quake was perhaps in the wrong place!


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