There’s been some food for thought over the year that has just passed. In early October, I was enjoying the last of the summer sunshine in Greece, drinking the local wine at a harbourside taverna and idly enjoying the little fish flicking and flashing silver in the water just a foot away. I was then slightly aggrieved when a posse of young boys arrived with fishing lines and took up position nearby – I hate to see fish caught.
Cue a conversation with my other half in which I wondered aloud at my peculiar dualistic take on the fishermen of Greece. Old, leathery men puttering about in wobbly boats, ...
There are approximately 1289 more words in this article.
To read the rest of this article, please buy this issue, or join the Resurgence Trust. As a member you will receive access to the complete archive of magazines from May 1966.
If you are already a member, please Sign in
