A storm over Lake Kocegyz, the Gunners in the Mono Lisa Cafe Bar

One morning,  Jane and Ken went to a meeting of expats in Kocegyz - a lawyer was giving a talk about the laws in Turkey relating to inheritance -

I strolled along the lakeside, drinking coffee - I stared out at the choppy, glassy, waves - a sharp breeze blew over the lake, rocking the boats moored to the waterfront - Turkish flags crackled in the turbulent air - spray curled up from the waves -

Earlier, I had seen a plump fisherman, stretched out, asleep on the deck of his small wooden craft - I wondered what it would be like, to eke out a living here, smoking my Lark cigarettes, my world contained by the waters of the lake -

I'd spent my life as a pale apparatchik - how different it would have been, not to have worn a dark suit - I could have been barefoot, dressed in a torn shirt -

I sat in the Mono Lisa Cafe Bar - that is how they spelt it - I watched the rainstorm move over the lake towards the town - the breeze became a strong gale - the boats danced wildly in the lunging waves -

Huge warm raindrops fell upon the water, spattered against the windows of the cafe bar - I spoke to two students - one spoke perfect French - his mother, a French woman, had married a Turk - she came from Strasbourg - the two boys were grave and courteous -

I was asked what football team I supported - Arsenal, I said in desperation - the boys nodded, frowning - the Gunners, I added -

Ah, the Gunners - I wished Jay had been here - he would have been able to explain Arsene Wenger's  game plan for the season -