Spend the night in a car on a boat, with water above and below. Surprisingly calm, just a few sore limbs to stretch on the shore. The alternatives were not much better, a crowded ship and a deck that resembled more a swimming pool. Oh well, only 9 hours and here we are in Brindizi. Not in a mood for many kilometers we end up on the sleepy sea side resort of Torre Santa Sabina. Emptiness and stillness, the holiday makers long gone. Only Rocko and Freddo come to greet us, two small male dogs happy as clams. Rafael the Italian grandpa who rents his house speaks only Italian. We manage to communicate. The Italian lessons I did 11 years ago, still function somewhere in the area of the brain dedicated to half learned languages. The babel cortex. Russian words mix in as I speak. We wander around observing empty summer houses. Athens still clings through street names.