The Mediterranean, a vast, shimmering expanse, stretched before us as we prepared for our final leg to Fethiye. The morning sun, a warm, golden orb, danced upon the water, casting dancing shadows on the deck. As we slipped into the cool embrace of the sea, the world seemed to slow to a leisurely pace.
Breakfast was a convivial affair, a symphony of flavors and laughter. Philip, ever the wine connoisseur, announced that we had a surplus of our liquid treasure. A lively drawing system was quickly devised, ensuring that each of us went home with a bottle of the finest Turkish wine.
Ben, our spiritual guide, led us in a devotion, drawing parallels between the River of Life in Ezekiel and the apocalyptic visions of Revelations. Captain Emre, a seasoned mariner with tales of the sea etched into his weathered face, regaled us with a captivating summary of our journey thus far.
We made a final pass through Cleopatra's Bath, a legendary cove teeming with boats. The strong currents and heavy traffic made berthing impossible, a testament to the enduring allure of this ancient site.
(Artist with “manager” Desmond and boat crew)
As lunch approached, I was approached by Murat, a local boatman, who requested a portrait of a dear friend. His request was a small gesture of friendship, a reminder of the connections we had forged during our voyage.
Finally, we reached Fethiye, a charming coastal town nestled amidst lush hills. The familiar sights and sounds of the place brought a sense of homecoming. I exchanged currency with the same man who had assisted me at the beginning of our journey, a comforting ritual that marked the passage of time.
As the sun began its descent, we gathered on the deck of Larin Su for our final round of drinks and dinner. The air was filled with the sounds of celebration from the town, as Turkey commemorated Victory Day. It was a fitting end to our adventure, a moment of reflection and gratitude for the memories we had created.
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