Each day, the first haunting call from the muezzin sounds out around first light, greeting the day alongside the crowing of cockerels and, sometimes, the clanging of binmen emptying the communal rubbish bins in the street outside. We’ve been to places where the Muslim faith has seemed to be much stronger than it is in this part of Turkey, maybe westernisation has had an effect, but there is no doubting the evocative nature of the sound of the call to prayer, which still stirs us even after 8 weeks here. And with the daylight hours reducing, the muezzins’ calls become that bit more regular. Despite the apparent moderation of diligence…