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The sun had begun its leisurely descent over Bodrum Town on a September afternoon when I started going back over my list, making sure I hadn’t missed anything. A stroll along the marina, pausing to take a video of a forest of Turkish flags fluttering in the wind: check. Bites of kabak cicegi dolmasi and enginar kalbi on the terrace of a restaurant overlooking gulets bobbing in the harbor below: delicious. Browsing leather shoes and handwoven towels in the labyrinthine bazaar: my credit card statement would attest to that. Satisfied, I started mapping out the route back to the hotel, working in a stop at a posh Turkish delight shop a friend in New York had recommended. I turned to my mom, ready to lead her out of the bazaar, when…
