Despite chilly morning air I have coffee on my balcony. It is this southern cliche – if you have a balcony you’re supposed to have coffee there even if it’s freezing.
I climb through the upper village where there are a lot of picturesque abandoned houses. There are renovated houses as well. First ferry arrives with a loud whistle. It’s a nice view down to the port. Soon I reach Agia Paraskevi chapel. She’s supposed to protect the eyes. Door is open, a candle burns inside. Further is monopati ’renovated to over-perfection’. Goat bells sound. Monopati ends and climbing above a ravine towards the sea starts. Ahead there are mountains falling into the sea. After a while the white roof of Agios Vassilios chapel is below. Beach is there also, bright, long, empty and with pale blue water. With bits of sand. Next hours pass with swimming and following Sartre’s irritation over French Algeria. Since no-one is in sight it has no point to make any clothes wet. Until a hunter arrives and starts shooting. Atmosphere is ruined and I decide to go. It might be dangerous knowing that Greek hunters shoot at everything that moves but I’m just been told that I’ll have a long life.
The way back is hot, air shimmers above the path and sun glazing down makes everything flat.
Back at sea level, I buy some sponges. People probably do wash themselves.
Church bell tries to knock me unconscious. The joys of living next to the church. It was announced through a loudspeaker yesterday that something will happen to a Maria today.
Marco Margna sings during dinner. What a small world - his wife used to work in our office once upon a time.
from Nisyros to Symi

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