The wind that had whipped up the sea the day before had eased, and the Aegean was its trademark blue. As we began our ascent, the view was stunning and the cape, where the island’s mountain chain came to a rugged end, had the look of a racked and life-beaten soul. On a small plateau, before the descent to the hot springs of Thermes, wild goats grazed while their kids played in the stones and tufts of the coastal grasses.
I pulled into a car park to join two other hire cars. From the top of the worn and precarious staircase we could see four women lying in the shallows where hot water seeped through small vents near the shore. We descended, gripping at the rusted and brittle rail. The sheer cliff face opposite us loomed over the stony beach. Here, the seep of hot water at the cliff’s base
