The Island Nobody Mentions at Dinner

The ferry goes twice a week and the hydrofoil not at all, which is the first of several facts that keep the island as it is. The second is that there is nowhere to stay except eleven rooms above the port, run by a family who have been doing so since the seventies.

The beach is a ten-minute walk and has no beds on it. There is one taverna, which opens when the fish arrives and closes when the last table leaves. There is a second beach, reached by a path, that we are not going to describe.

“There is one taverna, one beach and no reason to check the time.”

What you do here is what people did before the word itinerary entered the language. Swim before breakfast. Read. Sleep. Walk to the village at six when the light softens. Eat too much and too late, and be in bed before midnight.

Go in June or September. Take cash, a hat and no more than one book you intend to finish. Tell nobody, or tell one person, and make them promise.