Stretched lazily across the Golden Horn in its rusting cyan splendour, is the Galata Bridge.
The smell of fish and sea, the deep-throated laugh of a fisherman.
Harika is the Turkish word for wonderful, marvellous, extraordinary. It has always been one of my most favourite words, for both its meaning and the pleasure of pronouncing it.
Welcome to Harika, the adventures of a compulsive sketcher.
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