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Today is market-day in Alanya. Though we think to be well known with the local geography we need nearly one hour to find the market place. This is not near the harbour as stated in the guide book but on the other side of the main road in a side quarter of the town. But finally we mix with the crowds which are quite similar to the business at Manavgat. At a booth there are some unskinned heads of goats which look rather spooky with their bare teeth. Of course there is a fish booth too. Moreover there is a mobile shoemaker in the market hall. We will need him one day.

As we have left the market we watch some people coming out of a bus at the main road. The last one is an old hag with two bulky bags full of towels and washcloths. One bag is bound to her back with some strings. Then she asks some fellow to put the second bag on top of the first one. But the fellow ignores the request and seems to be deaf. And we stand just aside and look curious? OK, it is a pity with this wife and I give a sign that I will carry the heavy bag to it's place of destination. The womon seems to be content with this and starts to run across the street and I do hard to follow her. Now suppose I would loose her - then they could say I would have stolen the stuff and may be they cut off the hands?

But we succeed to reach a textile shop to deliver the ware. We hear many thanks but do not understand anything. Now we think that this was a nice episode. Finally on the way back we meet an acquaintance from a neighbour village at home. "The world is small", this is usually said at such an occasion.

As we walk up to the hotel a strap of Heidi's sandal breaks. But we soon reach the pool and find ourselves among a couple of English families. A little girl named Brooklyn is often advised: "Take care of the people". And we look in a tolerant manner and smile for a better Europe.

In the evening we go out to buy new sandals and a Kemal-book. We buy the sandals at a shop, where no one bothers the customer to come in and stay etc. Then we do hard to find the bookshop again, but then we are there and decide to accept the price, for we can read this author just at the locality where the action takes place. We choose "Lied der tausend Stiere" (The legend of the thousand bulls), a book about the decline of the turkmenic nomads. The action is really 500 km more east but that doesn't matter.

During the dinner we have a transaction. The chief-waiter with a somewhat oversized peruke comes along with a bag full of German coins. It should be DM 80.- tip money from the chambermaids, as he says. Now he wants to change the money into bank notes. OK, so we do and spend another DM 10.- for the chambermaids - as we think.


Easy to guess where we go today. Of course we will visit the mobile shoemaker to repair the broken sandal strap. When we arrive there we must interrupt him reading his newspaper. "We have some work" we say and he drops newspaper and cigarette and starts to glue and stitch. He inspects the non-defect parts too. Meanwhile we sit like the hens on the roost and watch at the work. Soon some others come by and after some time more and more onlookers assemble around us.

After 15 minutes the sandals are ready. "2 years warranty" he says. We round off the price, pay and say farewell to him and the others by handshake.

Thereafter we want to make a boat trip around the headland and the fortification on it. The trip will last one hour and costs DM 10.-. Again it is difficult to choose among the pushing sailors. It may happen that they sell you a ticket and you have to wait another hour until they have enough passengers. So we choose a boat with a handful tourists on board. And we start 15 minutes later.

The first view shows the ancient shipyard and I quote again from the address given above:

The shipyard like the Red Tower, was built during Sultan Keykubat’s period. The shipyard was built two years after the tower and is the only remaining shipyard from the Seljuks. It has five docks each of 7 m. Widht and 43 m. Depth all opening to the sea.

We will have an adventure there some time later. Meanwhile a local sits aside of me and starts to tell the complete story of his life. He speaks German for he had spent some time at Krefeld-Ürdingen. He has a daughter in Germany, a divorced woman etc. Now he works as interpreter in the hotels.

We have difficulties to concentrate to the landscape. After the boat has surrounded the first hook one can see, that the rocks behind the town wall fall down to the sea just vertically. Down there is the Pirate's Cave. There they have stored their quarries which sometimes should have been young girls. So not far from here there is the Cave of Love. A member of the boat crew jumps into the water, swims to the cave and disappears. The boat speeds up again and everyone can argue what will happen.

Before there is the headland Civarda with the ruins of a Byzantian cloister, once there was a roccky path to this place but this is destroyed today. We pass the last tip and there he is, the guy from the boat, at the other entrance of the Cave of Love. He humps into the water again and comes back to the boat - a hero!

The boat then enters the Phosphor Cave, which got its name from the color of the water when the sun is shining in the afternoon. Up above there is the man-thrower-place and at the grids people look down and propably shiver. Then the boat turns back and after just one hour we are back at the harbour. May be this was one of the most beautiful boat trips within an hour.

We then enjoy the fine weather at the pool.

In the evening at the street we meet our chief-waiter with his peruke. This time he carries DM 120.- in coins with him. "This is from brother in shop" he says. We refuse to change once again, for what shall we say at the toll-check if we come along with bags of coins? So we say we have no banknotes yet. "Don't care, it's just for a friend" he answers and forgets, that just before it was his brother.

Later at dinner we observe him as he discreetly puts away a DM 100.- banknote, may be he has found someone else for his transaction.

We have Saturday, may be this or that likes to drink something more than usual. We not, we got asleep already as at midnight we scare as we hear shrill cries from the neighbour room with the common bath shaft. We cannot avoid to understand the words which are given in Baden-dialect (Baden is a part of Germany), whereas the male part of the controversion only grumbles. The woman changes the famous Goetz-Zitat into "Du kannst mich mol von hinne un von vonne!" (untranslatable). Finally she hopefully ends with "I do not want to hear of you and you will not hear anything of me!". So we hope too but then a hysterical laughter follows and we think that things have arragened properly. We fall asleep again but about 2.30 the show goes on. Now we are forced to bang against the wall and thereafter we have silence.

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