The boat left Adamas at nine. A white sailing boat with a blue awning, a captain with a grey beard and a voice that carried without being raised, and a deckhand of about nineteen who did everything else, including the…
The Thieves’ Cove – Milos
The Stone That Keeps an Edge – Milos
The catamaran from Paros left mid-morning and took a little under two hours. I spent most of it watching a boy of about six try to stand up every time the hull hit a wave, and his grandmother pull him…
The Stone That Lets the Light In – Paros
The bus to Lefkes leaves from the harbour in Parikia, and the driver calls out the stops as though each one has personally disappointed him. Five kilometres up the road he said, “Marathi.” Nobody moved. I got off. I had…
Ninety-Nine Doors – Paros
I went down to the Portara before the town was awake, because every other time I had seen it there had been somebody standing in it. The causeway was empty. A fisherman was coiling a line on the rocks below…
They Left Him Where He Fell – Naxos
The bus to Filoti leaves early and climbs almost the entire way, and by the time it put me down the air had changed. Inland Naxos is not the island the ferry sells you. It is green in the folds,…
A Door With Nothing Behind It – Naxos
The crossing from Mykonos takes about forty minutes, and for most of it there is water, the noise of the engine, and a man near the bow explaining something to his son with both hands. Then Naxos comes up on…
