My Hovercraft is Full of Eels

The camp­site is big and com­mer­cial, tents packed close togeth­er. There’s a swim­ming pool — the kids would spend the whole time there if we did­n’t drag them out to the beach! It’s much too hot to sleep in the tent, so Callum and I sleep on the beach under a tam­ar­isk tree, blas­ted by sand blown by the meltemi (the hot sea­son­al wind).

The old Chora is amaz­ing — town perched on top of a pre­cip­it­ous hill. The bus winds back and forth to get to the sum­mit, where there’s a little orotho­dox chapel (there are hun­dreds of chapels on the island). And the wind keeps blowing…