Even on the hottest July night it was refreshingly cool beneath the oriental sweet-gum trees. We had set out to explore the Gulf of Gökova, an azure blue fiord piercing deep into the mainland, its shores a labyrinth of bays, themselves interwoven with coves and inlets. Cevat Sakir, the Turkish novelist and short story writer who was exiled to Bodrum in the 1930s and loved it so much that he stayed for the rest of his life, counted 66 bays in the gulf, not to mention the coves within them. It was he who began the tradition of the Blue Voyage along this spectacular stretch of coast. Diving into the glittering blue water at every opportunity made my head spin, and the pine perfumed air was heady. I had no idea there were so many shades of green and blue. I gazed, breathed and swam insatiably. Our time was only too short and we were determined to visit as many of the lovely coves as possible. So we took the short but possibly most spectacular route.

Our first port of call was Bördübet. What did that strange name mean? I thought there might be some connection with börtü or insects, although local people have devised their own amusing etymology, claiming that English people who came there had been so amazed at the variety of birds here that they had declared 'bird to bed,' and this became corrupted to Bördübet in Turkish! Here I went canoeing for the first time, and it turned out to be the most enjoyable way of reaching the sea. Paddling along the stream between the reedbeds, I confused instructions and plunged into the reeds, but apart from that I didn't do badly. The stretch of water, widening to 200 metres in places, took us to the beach of Küçükgünlük, alias Amazon Bay. Swimming in this blue bay encircled by greenery was another unforgettable experience. We watched the windsurfers and wished good luck to people fishing on the shore. Then we gathered sea urchins. The brown female ones contain the only edible part, the tiny orange ovaries. These delicious morsels contained all the flavour of the sea.

That evening, from a hilltop overlooking the Seven Islands, we watched an awesome sunset, as if attending an ancient rite. The islands lie between two headlands, three clustered to the north near Teke Point and four to the south stretching in an arc from Taneli Point. As we were returning from watching the sunset, we saw the moon rise from behind the mountain, a huge yellow orb suspended in the dark blue sky. The next day we drove along the coast in search of Löngöz Bay. A spiralling road carried us over two high hills and back down to the seashore in a cloud of dust. 'Is this Löngöz?' we asked the curious onlookers. Ali Dede's son Ali said that this was indeed Löngöz, alias Kargili. Here there is a tiny jetty, paths wandering into the pine forest, and beds of tall reeds. At once I decided that this was the most picturesque bay I had ever seen. Three streams of ice cold water flowed amongst reeds to mingle with the sea. I was amazed at the number of yachts anchored at the mouth of this hook-shaped bay.

Our journey of exploration constantly revealed new scenes of green and blue. Behind every hill was a cove or inlet waiting to win a place in our hearts. The so-called English Harbour is a narrow inlet snaking its way into the promontory at the mouth of Degirmenbükü, the largest of Gökova's bays. Our captain Kadir took the boat around this beautiful convoluted cove, while we waved to people gathering wild sage on the hills. The name English Harbour commemorates the fact that some British ships concealed themselves here to throw off their German pursuers during World War II. On the other side of the bay is the natural harbour of Okluk, famous for the statue of a mermaid by Tankut Öktem and Sadun Boro. This inlet is a place where you feel you could spend the rest of your life looking at the clouds, lazing in the sun and smelling the salt. Our last stop was Sedir Island, to which there are daytrips by boat from Akyaka or Çamli. But we decided to spend the night in a motel with a view of the island and hire a private boat to take us there the next day. I had already fallen in love with the island years before.