The Fishermen’s Coffee House

It is a late afternoon in August, a pleasant breeze is strolling around the fishermen’s harbour. 

I am in Gündoğan, sitting at a table under the shade of trees with thick canopies that belong to an outdoors coffee house. 

It wasn’t crowded. Retirees, men and women, and fishermen, sparsely occupy tables. They are having tea or coffee. Coffee is served with ice cold water at the side, served in small paper cups. 

The estate is made of a small cottage that belongs to the Fishermen’s Cooperative. 

In past years this place had been a more traditional type of Turkish Coffee house, with waiters running around to serve patrons. 

During covid years they introduced self service. I think this works better, as it feels cleaner and simpler. 

There is no TV, nor music, nor plastic chairs. It has authenticity, good old wooden tables and chairs, a lovely garden and a young black cat. 

A woman is managing the estate, couple of teenagers are assisting her. 

The atmosphere is civilised and peaceful. There is this slow movement, a sense of being part of a community around me. Retirees and fishermen are chatting in low voices as shades of trees grow taller. 

In front of me I see a long line of boats docked, fishermen are mending their nets. The sun, loosing its battle, begins to set behind western hills. 

While Turkish flags are waving on every boat, the sunlight is filtered through them, making reds stand out. 

I cannot help to think this must be the best place on earth right now. As if I am teleported to 50 years earlier, a naive but more peaceful world where things are taken easy.