I went for a bike ride around agricultural Dalyan. The sun was blazing and my white British self needed to rehydrate. I stopped at this make shift cafe’ the owner had constructed in his garden. The tomatoes were so utterly soaked in sunshine they were enormous in size. The farmer who owned the property could not speak. In his own manner, he explained that his wife had left him due to his condition - he was doing what he could to get by in an unforgiving world around him, living in a derelict home with no windows or fully constructed walls. He grew his own oranges which he juiced there and then.

I wonder how he is doing.