Round here

It’s not a vacation until you meet two gay German tourists on a pier on a wild beach, and these tourists will warn you off swimming on account of a solitary pink jellyfish. But then you’ll go swimming anyway, because it doesn’t feel like September and there are so many minutes left in the morning. And then you’ll take a spill on the slick surface of the pier and scratch up your knee, and the Germans will giggle – but not in a mean way.

On the Peloponnese, Cyprus trees punctuate the quiet landscape like exclamation marks and the water looks like palace marble at twilight.

I told myself that I would use the holiday to write, but instead I’m using it to holiday.

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