this is the antithesis and remedy of "everything changes by being destroyed all the time, leaving no reference from the past" that we always complain about in the country. the only thing that changes is the height of the trees and the color of the flowers. since a new house is not built and the existing ones cannot be changed radically, memories and happiness are always recalled when you go here.
the place where i once again felt completely belonged in the 2011 season. i gave him my childhood, my adolescence, my youth. i'm giving my 30s now. here i am again, i came back, i came to you, artur. even though it's not ahmet's place anymore, even if 15's fill the disco in that magnificent view, your ice cream made of goat's milk, may god give you long life, boiled cemil, pigeon, seagull, ship's bed, fox and not necessarily lovers' road enough. here i am, here i am.
nobody wrote that it is in balıkesir burial.
this is heaven only for "arthurites".
the one i haven't been able to go to for 2 years, the pigeon, the central pier, the tavern, the cinema, the ice cream parlor, the fox dark nights, everything i miss terribly. i adore here.
artur is a place that comes to mind even when a small wind blows, and when one's eyes are closed, one can find oneself sitting on one of the piers in its coves, and it is a place with an indescribable sense of spirituality. the moment you turn right from karaağaç and enter that winding tree-lined road, completely different feelings awaken in one's mind that no one knows except the people of artur. i say it's where i want to be buried when i die.