By the time the sun turns harsh in Cizre, waiting out the day for evening has already become something of an art. A walk along the Tigris, a seat in the old bridge's shadow, an aimless wander through the market's narrow streets — it's all within reach. The city feels crowded and familiar at once, worn out yet always a little alive. Can't decide? Nobody here overthinks it either. Roll the dice and let Cizre's flow take it from there.