I woke up, had my complimentary breakfast, and took the shuttle to the port. I waved as we passed Rita’s house and left with great memories of the little island.

The small commuter ferry took me back to the South Island, where I waited for someone from the guesthouse to collect me. After waiting a while longer, I called. The woman asked how many of us there were. When I said two, she replied, “Sorry, I only collect groups of four or more. But you can rent a moped for five hundred, and I will bring it to you.” She would not collect us, but she would come out if I rented a moped. Frustrated, I stubbornly walked to the bus station rather than take a taxi and waited again. Fortunately, I could sit and read War and Peace, which was what I had intended to do that day anyway, so the delay was manageable. Eventually, I caught the bus and followed the winding road to the guesthouse.

The guesthouse followed a familiar pattern for the island: an older building that had been remodelled. After checking in, I immediately left for the next village. I found a coastal road and trail and walked the few miles there. A moped would have been easier, but I wanted the exercise and the day was beautiful.

The coastal trail ran just above the ocean and was nearly perfect. From time to time, a moped slowly passed, but I did not mind. The trail felt like mine.

Inside the next village, I began another small adventure. I bought an early dinner from a woman who was closing her shop for the afternoon, took the food with me, and ate in a tiny temple overlooking the ocean. Three men came over and started talking to me, asking whether I played rugby because I was wearing rugby shorts. They had guessed that I was English rather than American. As we talked, I learned that they were preparing for a festival that night and that the nearby military tunnel I wanted to visit would close shortly. I said goodbye and hurried towards it.

I had not understood what the local meant when she described a man-made cave built by the military. The tunnel complex had been designed to store tanks, boats, and aircraft beneath the island, with access from both land and water. It was an impressive sight. The design was ultimately flawed and the facility was never used as intended, but the setting was stunning.

After exploring the tunnels, I walked back to the village and settled into a coffee shop to read. A beautiful sunset appeared as I sipped coffee and a milkshake, and I was reminded that life was good. For the next few hours, I read War and Peace and followed its many characters. That night, I visited a concert in the main courtyard. A highlight was eating chocolate waffles, for which I had a particular weakness. Eventually, I made the slightly nervous walk along the dark trail back to my guesthouse. I arranged a taxi for the next day with the rather curt woman at the counter, then went to sleep.