A walk in the night

It was 1am and I needed to go home - home being the Lukka apartment in Kalamar Bay. Dave and Charli had gone on ahead and Caroline was off out with her friend. So I left Doy Doy with hardly a backward glance at the harbour, still shimmering with the reflected lights from all the restaurants and bars,and started to climb the hill through old Kalkan.
It was still hot - maybe 26 degrees - but the breeze seemed to pick up as I trudged upwards; some relief for attempting Cardiac Hill after an evening of fine food and wine. The dogs were awake now, although I clearly wasn't there first choice of companion, with no morsel of food on my person.
The shops were closing up for the night and the magical displays of brightly coloured lanterns were disappearing one after the other, so that Kalkan took on an altogether different quality from the bustling bazaar that I knew and loved. It was quiet and slightly mysterious, with dark alcoves and hidden twists and turns. It felt rather like a Turkish Hogwarts; Hagrid would love it here.
At the taxi rank the drivers were sitting around playing cards and I hestitated. I really wasn't that tired and my mind was racing. It was only a mile or so to Kalamar Bay and it felt cool enough to walk it. So I set off - on level ground this time - along the road to Kalamar.
Most of the restaurants still had a few people sitting around in them, although the waiters were clearing up; stacking chairs and washing tables. I passed the Chinese restaurant with it's glowing red lanterns and Bread & More,  from where Turkish chatter sprang from the few folk  huddled round the bar.  A dog from the restaurant crossed the road towards me, tail wagging, clearly in anticipation of some kind of treat from me.  A few kind words didn't really fit the bill but he seemed a well brought up, friendly dog and he nodded at me in polite acceptance of my attempt at communication.  I walked on, up the hill past hotels and villas, most of which were closed up for the night.  Silent swimming pools glimmered in car lights as taxis hurtled past. Up above a million stars sparkled in a clear moonlit sky.   Human life seemed to be vanishing to be replaced by the sights and sounds of a Turkish night.
I turned left, down a little lane that I believed cut through to our apartment.  All was dark here and I did wonder whether I ought to stick to the main road.  But this was Kalkan, beautiful, quiet, safe Kalkan, so I had a quick slurp from my bottle of water and carried on. The breeze had stilled and it felt as if the air was holding it's breath, waiting for something.  Ahead of me lay a dirt road with scraggly bushes to the right of  it and the tall stone wall of a villa on the left.  Shadows bled into darkness and the branches of a tree I passed under rustled suddenly. I walked a little faster, feeling this was not my place to be at the moment.  Then I heard footsteps.  There was definitely someone behind me.
I quickened my step, not daring to look behind, not daring to picture the scenes that wanted to enter my head.   I couldn't hear anything any more, apart from my heartbeat and the swish of my bag rubbing against my side as I increased my pace again.  Something caught my eye.  Up ahead, I saw a moving light speeding across the sky - a shooting star.  Oh I should have made a wish I know, but it was a prayer that I was uttering to myself at that point.  And then I heard a bark.  Just one - that was enough.  I turned to see the dog from the restaurant  standing about 20 yards away.  It had something in it's mouth -  A flip flop. He was carrying one of my daughters flip flops that I'd ended up putting in my bag when she changed into her oh so practical high heels!
The dog triumphantly carried the flip flop all the way back to the apartment for me, tail wagging constantly and clearly proud of his good deed.  What a dog!  What a place!  I just thanked my lucky star I was in Kalkan.  Where else!