Ever since I was little, I've been to watch the parade, with a few exceptions. This year, it was the weekend I was supposed to move back into my flat after almost three weeks of bathroom renovation. It was very hot on that Sunday (2nd of June), and even though my flat was a bit of a mess and very dusty from the work, I definitely did not want to spend this beautiful day with cleaning only and nothing else.
Usually, my Mum or even both my parents would have gone to watch the parade with me. But it was too hot for them to stand at the roadside for an hour and more, and so understandably, they both said no when I asked them.
My upstairs neighbours F and T (T, the husband, is a professional plumber and was also involved in my bathroom renovation) were home, and when I asked them if they felt like coming along, they were all for it. It has been only a year and a half that they have moved into the attic flat; they have left Turkey two years ago when the political situation there became unbearable (and possibly dangerous) for them.
We spent not only an entertaining hour watching the parade, but got ourselves ice creams afterwards, and leisurely strolled back up the road together to where we live. I did some more cleaning then, but left the bigger and noisier jobs (hoovering) to the next day.
I did not take quite as many pictures as in previous years, but you can still get a good impression of the hour-long parade, I suppose:
|Still my favourites: the Shire horses!|