A nest is important. In the morning I hung the sarong in the east. At Midday I draped it between the juniper trees and lay in the tiny patch of shade underneath. By the end of the day it hung limply on the west side, unless the wind challenged the unceasing heat. The buddha watched me without blinking an eyelid.
I met my neighbours in the only shade on the entire beach. I needed to find somewhere to set up camp so I shuffled through the burning sand and struck up a conversation. This move led to a prolonged discussion on conservation and a sheltered spot under the juniper tree that I would call home for the next ten days. This surely was heaven. My nest perched at the edge of a cliff and was complete with a mud buddah and a well-worn sarong left by the previous inhabitants.
There is always the heart. The cat knew. Even though felines are particularly difficult to pin down, I was following his paw prints from the city of Athena to the burning sands of Gavdos. Fortunately, I broke the ferry deadlock and took a circuitous route via Agia Roumelli to arrive at my destination as the full moon rose from the sea.
Gavdos is remote. It is the most southern point of Europe, an island south of Crete heading to Africa. I had to go there, again, and I needed to get there by the full moon. The plan was simple… get out of Athens and on to the night ferry, bus to the south of Crete and catch the ferry. I checked the internet. I drank Greek coffee with a travel agent. I caught the bus. But no matter how much I wanted to commune with nature on Gavdos, I was stranded in Sfakia. The ferry wouldn’t grace the horizon for another three days.
Every story has a beginning, a middle and an ending. In this case it began with a cat near the Acropolis.