Coffee at Kocegyz

Whenever I look out of a window in England, to see icy drizzly skies, I think of Kocegyz - for me, this name invokes sunshine and happiness -

Kocegyz is a small sleepy town in south west Turkey - it is situated upon the shore of a lake with the same name -  from the jet, as you descend to land at Dalaman, you can see the lake below you - a brilliant blue lozenge, as smooth as glass - from its southern margin, a river snakes to the sea - the river passes through Dalyan - beyond the tourist villas, a bar of bright yellow sand marks where the river meets with the Aegean -

I have sailed across the lake, and down the narrow river, on a small boat - a brown marinero steered us through thick reed beds - we passed under cliffs pierced by rock tombs, where Lycian princes had been laid millennia ago - you could look up, from the deck of the boat, at the dark openings to the tombs - they had long ago been broken into by grave robbers -

I had once climbed up into such a rock tomb, one set in the crags over Fethiye - I had made my way up the rocky slopes very early one morning - the smooth chamber was still in shadow - you would need ropes or ladders, however, to enter these tombs above the lake -

Ken, my brother in law, will take me to one of the lake side restaurants - bright wooden boats are drawn up along the shore - Turkish flags billow in the warm wind - striped awnings shelter the tables from the sun -

Ken tells me fascinating stories about Africa - we order Nescafe, which will be served us in small china cups - the waves of the lake are like turquoise scales - the wooded hills overlooking the opposite shore are a faint bluish green -

A hundred yards or so away from the lake side, there is a tea house - men sit and gossip - the hours will  pass in glorious idleness -