I finished The Shell earlier this week, planning to write a review of it on Monday, then on Tuesday, then on Wednesday. I was reading it in a cafe in Brighton and had to stop and go home with five pages left (I have been making too much of a habit of crying in coffee shops lately).
I returned to Turkey, Antalya. Coming out of the airport there was a billboard asking ‘Do you have an advertisement?’ I got off the bus and walked along Konyaalti beach as the sun went down. It is a view I’ve looked out to many times over the years, and it doesn’t get old.
All the principals of great tourism are here — straight from the catechism of cliche: amazing weather, beautiful landscape, friendly locals, historical sites, cultural richness. The language and cultures represented here are exotic enough, but not sufficiently exotic to be intimidating to Europeans. And to think that it is all being ruined by incredibly improbable but widely and well publicised threats. We’ll see what the locals I know have to say about it in the coming days.
When I arrived to my AirBnB, typical Turkish hospitality was waiting for me in the form of snacks (see picture below). The plan is to return to daily posts here. The mind feels sluggish; so that now I am counting on Antalya for the eustress to come to grips with The Shell and get back at it–