Marmaris, Türkiye — Winter Photography

There's a version of Marmaris that most visitors never see.

I've lived an hour up the coast for over twenty years, which means I've watched this town wake up from winter more times than I can count. The tourist Marmaris — beach bars, jet skis, the restaurants three deep along the marina — doesn't exist in March. What's left is the town that was always there underneath it.

The locals still buy their daily bread. The mosque fills on Fridays. Children go to school. Life carries on, just at a different pace. But walk the seafront and it tells a different story — restaurants shuttered, sunbeds gone, seaweed and driftwood where the crowds will be in eight weeks. The nightclubs are boarded up. The water sports office — where in July you can't move for jet ski bookings — sits padlocked and patient. The waiters hired for the season have headed home to their families in the villages, some nearby, some not.

The strong winter winds come in off the water. The light is softer, longer, more forgiving.

For a photographer it's a gift. Unhurried streets, locals who aren't performing for tourists, and a quiet that's genuinely hard to find once June arrives. These photographs are my attempt to catch Marmaris in that in-between state — not quite winter, not quite summer, just quietly getting on with it.