I have tried hard to extend the photographic hand of friendship to the the neighbourhood before Mitchell arrives. Mitch is always SO excited by my attempts to connect with the locals that he walks away or hides -probably to calm his proudly beating heart.

This is Ali. He serves us borek and çay for breakfast every day. Bless you my son.

His two workmates are called Ali and Ali. (The one on the left is Ali)

We buy our beautiful fruit and veg from this stall. I never quite catch his name, but I’m pretty sure he says it’s Ali, or something like that.

I love simit, the local sesame bread. I buy some every day from my mate Keith (not his real name)

There are heaps of other locals we’ve had the opportunity to get to know. At least one is not called Ali.  Ahmet the shoe shine man was the fourth son. Sadly for Ahmet the only good name was gone by then.

This is Bruno. I’ve already said I don’t want to talk about him.  I wish he was more like my Turkish mate Ali.