The restaurant on the way to Akbuk, the patron and his reveries ...

On our way to Akbuk, we stopped for chai and Nescafes - I was wearing a straw trilby - 

It was late morning - traffic had been sparse along the clifftop road - I'd once seen a horse with a wooden saddle here, tethered to a bleached tree - 

The vines overhead shaded us from the sun - we stood upon the terrace, gazing down upon the turquoise sea - 

Two small boys with shaven heads watched us from the kitchen -

They were two of the patron's six children - 

Terraced fields led down to a pristine cove - a woman stood amongst rows of peppers, holding a glinting sickle - 

There was no sound but that of our voices - 

Having served us, the patron returned to his reveries -  

A hornet settled upon the sleeping television -