On cue, the bus arrived full of young, tanned tourists of various nationalities. We jostled our way past long, sandalled legs and backpacks and took a seat at the rear.
“It seems we’re staying in the Psalidi area,” Madeleine looked up from the map in the guide, “Further on from us there are hot springs…” She stretched her legs in front of her and gave a soft, wistful groan.
“We’ll look into getting a car today,” I said, thinking that my own muscles would be grateful for the springs. I’d noticed a hire place not far from Alexander’s restaurant.
“We’ll check out Kos Town first though and drive back… home.” How strange the word sounded to me then. Our little unit would be “home” for the time being and the thought sat well. I looked at Madeleine who, it seemed, had also noted the significa
