I love that this has a certain sense of… casual (and perhaps weary) inevitability, or a forgone conclusion. Like, “It’s Cavendish, of course I’ll do all of this for him; what other choice is there?” Because it says for Dakota, there is no other option than going back and saving Cavendish over and over again.
A Greek man asked us why we didn’t choose Mykonos or Santorini, and I answered because everyone else does (of course I’d love to go to both some day!). That is not to say there were no tourists; but Milos is inherently a small, quiet island with unique beaches, old fishing villages, and refreshingly chilly deep cobalt blue waters. Sarakiniko was by far my favorite beach because I cannot image there is another beach in the whole world like it. Lava and ash have been hardened and bleached bright white by the sun, and the shimmering blue ocean turns lighter shades of green as it slowly gets shallower in a narrow inlet, perfect for diving off of into for a brisk swim. Many people aptly call it “Moon Beach”. The island is full of beaches to explore; entry to Tsigrado requires rock scaling, but it is well worth the effort. The restaurants are all the same, toes in the sand and fresh fish on the table, but it never got old. I wasn’t looking for an island with foam parties or pop songs named after them, and I didn’t get that ether. Milos gave me adventure and relaxation, and plenty of beautiful pictures of the quiet, foamy sea.