somebody just threw a rose out their car window as they drove by.

spa, gym, squash, fun with the huge huuuge waves, the octopus is now getting done on the hot coals and the day is not even half done.

it is become clear, beyond doubt, that I came to this windy island to come upon this book, sitting crisp and unread on a shelf, on a day that everyone at home was away and I, having been left on my own devices, lead myself to it.

“The Road Less Travelled” by M. Scott Peck, M.D.

to spend the day alone at home, not seeing anyone (but the gardener) was heavenly, on this hysteric island. people people people people people everywhere.

requested a lift back to the little white stone house on top of the hill, while the rest drove off for more drunken screetching. finally a few silent minutes to myself. this place is exhausting. I’m 67 years old you know.

Cette beauté, partout où tu regard, je voudrais pouvoir partager tous, avec toi.

Hello Mykonos. Fresh cool wind.

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Pellah-Hornah feels positively a goddess amongst her adoring green fans.

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