My husband is obsessed with this country and I may have to stop making fun of him for that – for reasons that are suddenly obvious.
The nights are starry in an insane, Van Gogh-sort of way. The sea is a dense oil painting. Waiters say that all of the jobs are here – and in Athens, “but who the hell wants to go to Athens?” The clouds come down and fit on top of the mountains like hats, and then they dip into the valleys, and turn the sun overhead into a ghost. “Greece is like a mirror. It makes you suffer. Then you learn.”