I’m writing from the high-speed ferry to Santorini—which has all the charm of a air travel and all the class segregation, too, complete with little velvet ropes and thin mesh curtains and baffling prohibitions. I’ve been traveling for a week: two days in Athens, four days in Chania, a half-day in Heraklion.
Athens was chaotic, dirty, but teeming with street art. Chania simply lovely. It should have been too touristy but in fact it was relaxing with its old winding streets, the light on old stone, and the friendly well-fed cats, more interested in pets than sardines, and the gentle sea where I finally learned how to float and then wanted to do nothing else.
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