So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?
In which we acclimatise nicely to villa life.
In which we acclimatise nicely to villa life.
All of this to explain how I come to make a snap decision — a bad one — on the ferry between Rhodes and Marmaris.
Rhodes, sunshine and the (brief) return of Paris
He scrawls his number on a card. “You have trouble, you call me, Alexandra.” (The Greeks love my name.) “Just call,” he urges, eyes crinkling around the edges.
Have I said this before? How wonderfully disorientating I find it to land in a foreign place after dark, not knowing what to expect when you wake the next day…