Spetses
I was filled with unbearable nostalgia. There I was again, boating, swimming, sunning, drinking wine with good friends, feeling the ecstasy that only a Mediterranean afternoon can arouse in me. Transforming one’s feelings into language is difficult. One has to avoid sounding corny. Byron wrote about the Isles of Greece, and the sea that murmurs softly ‘Come again, and again’.
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