If only human beings knew what is worthy of remembrance, their first impressions of a town would become permanent images etched on their minds.

One night after we left the town of Bartin, when the stars spread across the autumn sky like the letters in a poem, it felt as if we were descending from the mountains on the back of a curled snake. In the darkness, we were unable to see the sea. Then suddenly there was Amasra, standing on the shore like a long ship with all of its lights shining on the harbour. The next morning I awoke to the sound of the waves and felt as if I were a voyager on ship Amasra, the town that became a passion for Princess Amastris, its name-giver who followed the sea trade routes and longed for her shores; for Fatih Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror, whose army took Istanbul by moving his ships overland in the night and setting them down in Golden Horn; for Hüseyin Çoban in whose small factory was built the famous “Golden Hind”, ship of the great seaman Drake;