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As glistening spume is blown ashore, as bubbles glow in all five colours of the rainbow, as mussel shells are bright with mother of pearl, so was Crete lucent to my eyes.

- Mika Waltari

Sytalkion, or Si-tal-ki-o as the locals pronounced it, was a silent, sleepy place in the noon-tide heat. The predominantly dark blue shutters of the old town were firmly closed, protecting the slumbering populace within from the worst of the dust and heat of the long summer day. In shady sandstone doorways, between the white balusters of balconies and upon cool marble window sills, lay cats of many colours. Enigmatic creatures of indeterminate breed, these were the much photographed hardy felines of the Aegean. Josh noticed several pairs of their yellow-green eyes regard him with dreamy indifference as he made his way slowly along the Othos Ariadne towards the pension door. At length he pressed the bell and immediately heard the distinctive, low voice of Kyria Zenia over the little speaker.

"Oriste?"

"Josh Mackay, kyria."

"Ah, ela pethi mou."

...

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