by Aylin Hasanli -

Mornings on the seaside boulevard

Woman in an orange dress and sunglasses leaning on the railing of the seaside boulevard

The seaside boulevard runs for kilometres along the bay, and before nine in the morning it belongs to runners, old men fishing off the railings and a few of us who simply like to walk.

I go most days in summer. The air still has some of the night’s cool in it, the water is flat and silver, and the towers across the bay look almost soft in the haze.

My route

I start near the funicular, walk west along the water to the little pier with the blue benches, and come back through the park when the sun starts to bite. It takes about an hour with a stop for tea.

By ten the city is loud and bright. At eight it is still yours.

Woman in a straw hat looking over the city from a shady garden
by Aylin Hasanli -

Finding the shade: my favourite city gardens

By two o’clock in July the streets are too hot for anything but getting from one air-conditioned door to the next. So I go where the trees are.

The city has more green corners than people expect: terraced gardens on the hill, old courtyards with fig trees, and a long park that follows the seafront.

Where I go

My favourite is the terraced garden on the hill, where the paths zigzag up through pines and you can see the whole bay between the branches. Bring a book, a big hat and more water than you think.

Smiling woman in a denim jacket with city towers behind her
by Aylin Hasanli -

A weekend with Lara

Lara and I have been friends since we were eleven, and she had never visited me here. So when she finally booked a flight, I planned three days that were mostly food and mostly outdoors.

We did the classics: the old town walls at sunset, the boulevard in the morning, a long lunch with too many small plates. And we did nothing at all for a whole afternoon on a friend’s balcony, which may have been her favourite part.

She said the city looks like the future and the past standing next to each other. That is exactly right.

She has already booked again for next spring.

Woman relaxing on a grassy slope in front of the city skyline
by Aylin Hasanli -

The long lunch picnic

In summer I stop booking restaurants for lunch. Instead I pack a basket, find a slope with a view and let the afternoon take as long as it wants.

What goes in the basket

Flatbread from the bakery on the corner, white cheese, tomatoes that actually taste of something, a cold watermelon wrapped in a wet towel, and a flask of tea. Nothing that needs a knife more serious than a butter knife.

The trick is to go late, after two, when the families have gone home and the grass has cooled a little. Stay until the light turns gold.

Woman in a red polka dot dress under white arches
by Aylin Hasanli -

One dress, three evenings

I bought this red polka dot dress in June and promised myself it would earn its place. Three evenings later, it has.

For a friend’s birthday dinner it went with gold sandals and my grandmother’s earrings. For a gallery opening, a cropped white jacket and flat shoes. For a walk by the sea, nothing but sunglasses and a scarf for the wind.

The rule I now shop by

If I can’t picture three different evenings in something, I leave it in the shop. My wardrobe is smaller than it has ever been, and I have never had more to wear.

Woman walking along the waterfront in the early morning
by Aylin Hasanli -

Why I walk at seven

I am not a morning person. For years I thought people who walked at seven were showing off. Then one summer the heat made it the only time I could go outside, and I have not stopped since.

The walk itself matters less than what it does to the day. I come home having already seen the sea, already said good morning to someone, already been outside. Everything after that feels easier.

No headphones, no goal, no step count. Just forty minutes along the water before the city wakes up.

Woman in a straw hat and blue shirt on a terrace above the bay
by Aylin Hasanli -

Packing for a heatwave

July was the hottest month I can remember, and it taught me what actually works in the heat. Most of it is common sense. The rest is a very good hat.

What I wore on repeat

Loose linen shirts in pale colours, one pair of wide cotton trousers, leather sandals that do not rub, and a straw hat wide enough to shade my shoulders. That was almost all of it.

I left synthetic fabrics and anything tight in the cupboard. They are fine in September. In July, they are a punishment.