It's not a holiday if...

It's not a holiday if I don't get lost. Combine walking miles with a rubbish map and that is how all first days should be spent. Also not having enough water...I'm such an idiot.

After a false start where I startled a man having a pee, I traipsed through some rather lonely Mediterranean flora with only the cicadas and butterflies for company. The grasshoppers were reasonably friendly and so big, I bade them good afternoon. I asked the insects to stop dive bombing me but unlike everyone here they didn't speak English.

After meandering for some time I found some amazing slanting rocks to sit on. With toes in the water I wrote and listened and enjoyed the sounds around me. Watching the colourful ferries reminded me that there are people out there.

But to be honest the disagreement between the virtually transparent shrimp and the sandy coloured fish was far more interesting and important than the human noise. I don't know why they kept arguing, the rock pool universe was more than big enough. I'm just glad they decided to ignore the elephantine toes dangling above them.

After heading back the way I'd come, I had an emergency juice and set off again. There was the option of hotel pool, beach or jacuzzi, so this is why I found myself climbing up 200m to St John's c9th belvedere. The Elafiti islands fade off over the misty distant horizon like a Chinese print. St John wasn't here, like the men of the local monastery, he seemed to have been evacuated.

Time to retire to the shade to nod over a cocktail and book. After all I've got cheesy 80s classics in the disco tonight. You see, it's not a holiday if I don't get lost, dehydrated and - dance to terrible music.