It's all horribly white, all solid concrete, there are lots of leaves on the floor where they've blown in, the walls are completely bare and the lights are either dazzlingly bright or unusably dim: for some reason it reminds me of the corresponding room in Bagdad Café ... but there's a bath-tub with nearly-hot water, so I can give my poor tootsies just the soaking they need.

There's a gale blowing in through the half-a-centimeter-wide gap under the door, putting the leaves back where they were before I gathered them together, but the kyria turned on a super-effective radiator when I came in, and the sweaty and travel-worn shirt I washed in the bath before getting in myself has already dried completely in the two hours it's taken me to write about what's happened today ...

Even in the dark I see that the door opens onto a lovely view of the mountains and the sea, but oddly enough the only window isn't in that wall, but opens onto a closed courtyard ...

Easy, wasn't it?!