We flew into Hatay on a Turkish Airways flight. The seats and draperies of the plane were a friendly, but antiquated, pink and baby blue and, between passengers and crew, the plane had a rather jovial feel.
Far below us – the images of central Anatolia: hot earth, checker-patched agriculture interupted by rocky ridges and winding rivulets, a lonely mountain standing tall above the dim plains and then, appearing suddenly, the newly hewn landscape of a vast city: generic grid-block buildings radiating out in endless circular rings – always a mosque at the center and each with a tall, solemn minaret rising skyward – spindly roads weaving through the brown landscape, joining in arteries and mega arteries – an ever widening delta of humanity: the city of Adana, 2.5 million people.
All these images mix in my mind and I’m left thinking: I hope this world knows where it going to get its water.
More on Hatay soon – a fascninating city.
Tomorrow we’re up at 5:30…off to chance the Syrian border and see if they’ll let us through.