A Cauationary Tale
Last time we were in Koycegiz I ate a trout at one of the low tables in a little cafe on the lake front. It was one of the nicest fishes I have eaten. Unfortunately the local street cats shared my opinion of the fish and were soon crowding around the table with a waiter listlessly and ineffectually trying to shoo them away. When I was moving a forkful of trout to my mouth one cat, more aggressive than the rest, struck out. He leapt up and made a snatch at the fish. He missed the fish and caught me instead inflicting deep gashes across two fingers. Immediately they began to gush blood and continued to do so for ten minutes. I tried to stem the flow with paper napkins. Then I was packed off to the toilet to wash out the cuts. When I returned a chap from the next table came over with a bottle of antiseptic that he happened to have and poured the purple liquid over my fingers. Waiting until this dried he next produced a packet of sticking plasters and finished my treatment. Very handy to have him around. The waiter stood by shaking his head, shrugging and saying ruefully "Ah. Street cats" as if they, like earthquakes or volcanoes, were irresistible forces of nature.
I recommend taking care.