Author with incurable wanderlust. Squeezing words out of a fountain pen. Veteran. Husband. Passable knife work with pretty good mise. www.jo
Apollo’s Gate
Just below the walk, under Apollo’s Gate, there is a small beach at the edge of the protected cove. You walk down steps into the Mediterranean and float on your back looking up at the ancient ruin. It is calm and serene until the Blue Star Ferry arrives, the captain swinging the ship 180 degrees, sliding gracefully to just the edge of the dock, a few moments later the waves created flood the walk with a mini-tsunami, drenching items not placed at an appropriate altitude. It’s not the fanciest...
Apollo’s Gate
Just below the walk, under Apollo’s Gate, there is a small beach at the edge of the protected cove. You walk down steps into the Mediterranean and float on your back looking up at the ancient ruin. It is calm and serene until the Blue Star Ferry arrives, the captain swinging the ship 180 degrees, sliding gracefully to just the edge of the dock, a few moments later the waves created flood the walk with a mini-tsunami, drenching items not placed at an appropriate altitude. It’s not the fanciest...
