from Tilos to Nisyros

I'm allowed to keep my room until evening and then Sylvia will drive me to the port.
I buy the ferry ticket. It takes about 20 minutes to start the program. Someone has sent a fax to the travel agent. Ticket printer has a picture of a bitten apple.
With some grapes I start towards Despoti Nero. There’s a beach and another beach to the left from the first one. With sand.
Surprisingly many hotels and tavernas line the beachside of Livadia. Somehow I thought that I’d already seen every street but no. Everyone I see says hello. No wind, water pretends that there are waves.
At the small chapel of Agios Ioannis paved road changes to unpaved road and I continue, scaring goats to left and right. Many lizards are on the run. The bigger ones look like some prehistoric beasts. They’re supposed to have bad eyesight so it’s possible to sneak close. Or crawl. When I look up then there’s a surprised goat, head tilted to one side.
Egg-shaped rock is there as is the sandstrip. I climb over big rocks from the uninhabited beach to an even more private one. There’s some sand and clear glittering water. I float in the sea, eat grapes, take pictures of waves and collect a significant amount of colorful stones. Read some Arabic too.
Time to go back. I decide to climb up and meet the path somewhere in the middle of the mountain. It proves to be more difficult than I imagined. The path is nowhere in sight, instead thorny bushes require most of my attention. It still takes less time to go back because there’s less crawling.
Salad and beer stop at Faros. The guy there is astonished to see an Estonian, especially if it can speak a bit of Greek. Tries hard to think of something he knows about Estonia and finally comes up with Kaia Kanepi. Bravo.
Andrea is discovered at the far end of Livadia beach. Then I pack my bag and Sylvia drives me to the port. The hotel will be closed, no more guests this season.
Lyn and Iain are already sitting in the taverna and breaking glasses when I arrive. Ok, one glass. It’s somehow sad to leave. Lyn has found my blog. I’d prefer to be out of sight by the time my characters find their stories seen through my eyes... They like my photos. I like it when someone likes my photos.
I ask Lyn how the locals feel about the many expats. She thinks expats are tolerated but then again, after they were away for 6 months everybody greeted them and people looked happy to see them back. Actually I asked the same question from Sylvia about half an hour ago. Oh, we like them, she said, they are very nice people. Some do even some kind of work, like this guy who is a mechanic, otherwise we wouldn’t have a mechanic on the island.
Ferry arrives, boarding happens very fast. I spot two figures standing and waving until they get smaller and smaller and the island around them is almost as dark as it was when I first arrived. Curtain closed. Have to come back. It feels like I’ve met them before, maybe in another life or something.

It’s also dark in Nisyros but this time I know where the hotel should be located. But before reaching it I stumble on a guy from the same hotel. The room is not as fancy as on Tilos but not so small as in Kos. The guy gives me long instructions where to eat and it seems like he’s trying to direct me to the same places Iain had in mind. Before going he turns around and asks, you’re staying for 3 days? Are you a geologist?
The directions are very accurate. The village seems to be big and air is filled with loud noise in German. I eat too much. There are strange pockets of hot and cold air on the streets. But well, I’m on a volcano.
There’s total lack of internet in my room.

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