Wheat fields run flat to the horizon in Altınekin, and 'what should we do' swings between counting passing tractors and watching which way the wind turns. The name means golden wheat, and once evening falls, the town square settles just as calmly as the harvest — everyone knows everyone here. Don't bother planning; the plain slows you down anyway. Roll the dice — on ground this flat, even a random direction counts as an adventure.