Throw the book away.

Gordo Campbell reminds us to open our eyes, ears and minds when travelling to the Greek Islands.

You are travelling to a place which is a legend in
ancient myth. You are in Rhodos not Miami Beach.

Spend time looking into every knook and cranny to
satisfy. Learn Greek, meet the local people. Snag a
girl (or guy as the casemay be) to use as
translator. Spend time in the coffee shops, the
markets, the town's squares and the town's fountains.

Not for the commerce but for the feel, the rhythm.
There is no better place than a living breathing bazaar common
market area. So in future days when you pick up a
potsherd on the ground you can feel the stories it
tells.

These are the descendants of the Mycenae, the
Macedonians, the Athenians,
the Templars, the Trojans, the Romans and more.
Don't fritter away a short
life on exposing your pale body to the cancerous
rays of an unmerciful
Meditteranean sun. You have the chance few others
have.

Like Hemingway or a dozen other writers, spend time
in the coffee shops.
Speak to old people here or better listen to the
cadence if you cannot
understand the language technically. Observe their
manners, their exchanges,
their musings, their grimaces, their laughs and
their tears. Watch the life
in an Mediterranean town or village. This is a place
where books are
written, not read.