Thalatta!

My thoughts are going back to my first visits in Greece.

I started writing a new novel that has, in its first chapter, the protagonist sitting in a tiny 3rd floor room in Ierapetra, Crete, overlooking the sea, toward Africa. His hands are in pain from blisters that have opened up. He is not fit for the work on the new aqueduct, work that at any rate earns him a pittance, one dollar a day — we are in the sixties!

(The image is a photograph I once took in Monemvasia, at the southern tip of the Peloponnese, of a woman looking south, toward invisible Africa)

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