By Chris Evans

I’m currently sitting in Seyir Cafe on Sagtur beach, although it could just as easily have been Kokina Restaurant. The beach is deserted, the sea gently lapping at the sand, and the sun shining brightly. All this in November. I did, cheekily, post pictures on social media to annoy my friends in the UK who had woken up to snow.

There’s an overriding sense of tranquillity and relaxation, having an amazing beach and bay to myself. In the distance on the headland, I can see a solitary figure fishing. Everything else is still.

People pay thousands to spend a couple of weeks on an overcrowded beach, catching some winter sun. I have even better to myself and it’s free. It’s very close to paradise.

I don’t get the place totally to myself every day. Invariably, it’s the stray dogs who come and share it with me. In a way, they add to the sense of being at one with nature.

Occasionally, I’ll bump into friends who have popped down for the day to relax and get away from life for a bit. It always ends up with laughter and great conversation. Sagtur does that to people. Everyone opens up as they share a special piece of paradise.

Some afternoons our resident kite surfer comes along and zips over the water around the bay. It’s exhilarating to watch. I keep promising myself I’ll give it a go, but I’m not sure my knees will cope with it. Seeing him have so much fun brings extra life to the bay without destroying the tranquillity. There’s room enough for everyone.

Weekends are marginally busier as one or two families come out to play on the beach. Friday and Saturday nights become livelier as Kokina Restaurant has live music in a venue overlooking the beach and sea. It’s an excellent way to end the week and laugh with the amazingly friendly owners.

Sagtur doesn’t die during the winter. We have Suslu Market and BIM to ensure we have all the essentials. It’s a good thing as we only have one dolmus an hour during the winter months which makes forgetting the milk when shopping a little frustrating. It’s strange, as there are enough people here to justify a dolmus every 30 minutes.

There’s also a huge sense of community. Yesterday morning, as I was waiting for the hourly dolmus, a stranger pulled up in their car and gave me a lift into Didim. I’d never met him before, but it shows the sense of community in Sagtur with everyone looking after each other.

There is a cloud on the horizon. If the hotel developments on the land between Sedef Koy and Sagtur go ahead, it will change this bay forever. It might do so for the better. Only time will tell.

For now, I’m going to enjoy my own little paradise and live for the moment. It’s not often life gives us gifts like Sagtur. It’s pointless wasting them by worrying about a future none of us can predict.