A Karaburun story that began with an internet connection, continued by fax, and remained in two handwritten pages of our guestbook.
One of the most complete stories preserved from the early years of Mimas Garden belongs to Theo Pronk and his friends. Theo wrote that they had found our apartments on the internet, using the computer of their Turkish friend Kemal Ulutanur, and wanted two apartments for two families from 28 July to 11 August 1998.
Theo and Carla Pronk were travelling with Vaisa (6) and Ruby (3); Jos and Annet Bouwhuis with Jim (9), Terry (5), and a six-month-old baby. Their questions covered the apartments, village, beach, surroundings, transfers, car rental and diving. They had found us online, but our conversation continued by fax.

Six days before their arrival I wrote that I would meet them at İzmir Airport, that Theo and I would drive to Karaburun together, and that I would show them places to shop on the way. I also wrote that cold beers and soft drinks would be waiting in the refrigerator.
I was unsure whether their five o’clock arrival meant morning or afternoon. Theo answered in his own handwriting on the same page:


At the end of their two-week stay they devoted two pages of our guestbook to their memories. The children recorded their own favourites: Terry the beaches, fishing and snorkelling; Jim snorkelling in their “private blue lagoon”; Vaisa a pussycat; and Ruby swimming with her “lifetubes.”
Annet was struck by the difference between life in Holland and life in Karaburun. Carla remembered the balcony view, passing ferries and cargo ships. Jos wrote about the quiet beaches and “unstressed” people. Theo remembered snorkelling in different bays and the views along the difficult road to the “fisherman bay.” They ended by thanking our family for the hospitality and for a great holiday.
Today these pieces — the January fax, the July arrival arrangements, the family photograph and the two handwritten guestbook pages — have become one story. I kept them without imagining that they would one day form an archive. What matters most to me now is seeing which small moments people carried away from the days they spent here.