Monday June 29, 1981

 _. Ios is beautiful. An extraordinary island. We are fanned by a constant warm breeze. We can lay in the sun all day without any apparent desire to find shade in a bar. We walked to the beach this morning and sat from 1pm until 4pm writing postcards and drinking wine. To the 'village' tonight. A labyrinth of narrow white streets, swarming with cosmopolitan people. Lots of Yanks and people from the Irish Republic. Lots of fat, flabby, white flesh in the bar. I had moussaka and Ally had squid. Back to the hotel before 12:30.

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