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.