I've somehow got ahead of myself and written one too many posts. I think it was because of the transatlantic flight in January and time differences meaning I wrote two in 24 hours. Anyway this post covers two days of real time; my last full day in Naxos and my trip to Athens.

Ferry to Delos and Mykonos and back to Naxos. A terrific day out.

Couldn't figure out the economics of the boat trip until we stopped at Paros and picked up approximately 400 French retirees. Substantially detractacted from the romance of plying the ocean to one of the most sacred locations of the ancient world, but nonetheless I coped and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible whilst hemmed in by Saga tours pensioners.

Delos. Dry, crackling vegetation. Flowers growing up in and around the ruins. Corn sheaves, figs, thistles. Naxian lions, fertility symbols, columns, mosaics, temples. Aquamarine lagoon, green blue sea channel. Museum with weathered sculptures. Fantastic to see them in the context of their environment: in a normal museum you don't think of the heat, the salt, the whistling wind, the birdsong. Lovely.

Mykonos, good to wander through little streets and sit and do nothing. I wonder if my brain is atrophying, I do hardly any serious thinking or problem-solving, and slip readily into a hypnotic state of torpor.

Thought about the refugees on their boats in this same sea, probably at the very moment I'm zipping across it for my own pleasure and diversion.

Another positive day. Really grateful to be able to live this kind of life. Enjoyed the sunny day, blue skies and slow pace.

Found a cafe where the locals go (instead of all the waterfront touristy places) and enjoyed sitting on the periphery not knowing what they were talking about. Annoying clack-clack of rosary beads though.

Did a stroke of work, which mainly involved playing around with needless ancillary tasks such were fun and felt good. Added a perceived sense of order to my life, but didn't actually finish the work though.

Popped by a boat agency and booked a trip to Delos (and Mykonos). The birthplace of Apollo! Early start tomorrow to get there.

Went for a longer swim as the sun set. A beautiful calm sea with no one else in it. Probably the first time in years I consciously did some exercise, inspired by a guy I saw yesterday who had a not inconsiderable belly but just dived in and did nonstop lengths of front crawl, way more than I thought he would.

Relaxed with a spot of TV tonight - Andrew Graham Dixon's High Art in the Low Countries, which was excellent. I really love the eye-wateringly labour-intensive detail of Rogier van der Weyden and Van Eyck, and I loved seeing the Landscape with the Fall of Icarus by Breugel. Having just sat and contemplated the inexorable sunset and the world's indifference to individual fate the meaning of the painting really resonated with me. The poem is nice too.

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
W. H. Auden - Musée des Beaux Arts

Also reminds me of the idea I had today of an anti-holiday-snap album, where I would take photos of all the things people ignore and block out of their holiday idyll. The photos that show your paradise is just a place like any other. Like the overflowing wheelie bin on the beach, or the disused wasteland to the side of the resort or the huge cement slabs dumped in the sea just around from the postcard-perfect port, or the children begging for money or the ruined houses one street back from the busy main drag.

Successful day! Felt less awful so went for it. Enjoyed the sun, walking, eating, sitting, exploring, swimming. Booked some extra days here to take it easy on the beach, booked an apartment in Athens and my train from Milan to Florence.

I must say that silverpoint really is incredibly practical for this itinerant lifestyle. It never blunts nor breaks and doesn't smudge or smear. Love it! Only trouble is I'm running out of pages in the sketchbook and finding silverpoint ground is going to be tricky. Hopefully there'll be some in Florence.

Beach for a couple of hours then retreated home to bed. Feeling very suboptimal indeed. There's also a lot of guilt that I'm in a beautiful new place but can't face exploring it. Also exhibited the contemptible cowardice of not wanting the guy on reception to know I was in bed all day so tried to be quiet and kept the light off in the evening until he left. Bizarre, avoidant behaviour!

Had just enough energy to book a flight from Athens to Milan, but not enough to face going through with the subsequent logistics. It's a lot of mental energy figuring everything out, narrowing down from so many options. Anyway looks like I'll end up getting a ferry from the islands up to Athens in the next few days, then off to Florence via Milan.

Had an incredibly traumatic, vivid, twisted nightmare last night. I had no idea my brain had such a ready capacity for horror.

All in all, not the ideal start to my time in Naxos.

Another day, another island. Ferry trip through sunny seas to Naxos.

Much better initial impression than Santorini; fewer tourists, proper beach and better food.

Still ill, sunburned and jealous of all the happy couples everywhere. I feel like I stick out doing everything on my own.

Came across the term 'flashpacker' to refer to people who travel like backpackers but with a bigger budget. As I am apparently incapable of staying within my daily budget I feel like I might be a flashpacker, with all the negative connotations attached. Moving about so frequently means I never amass enough ingredients to cook varied meals, so I keep giving into temptation and eating out. It would be fine if it were a holiday but I'm not sure whether it is or whether this is just my life.

Last full day in Santorini, off to Naxos tomorrow.

Stayed on the beach and did nothing of value. Sun and sea. Resisting opportunities to spend money. Holidays are better with other people. Not fully recovered from illness.

Climbed the mountain to ancient Thera, marvelled at the ruins. An ancient city perched on windy cliffs soaring from the blue-green sea.

Exhausting climb on sliding rocks, sun beating down. Incredible to imagine people doing this ascent for millennia.

Carvings directly in the rock, columns, votive niches, steps and walls. Panoramic views of the island and the sea. Beautiful and moving.

Climbed down the other side of the mountain to Perissa, booked a trip to Naxos, had a swim then took a little boat back home. Listened to the Odyssey.

Felt much better this morning, invigorated with a feeling of energy and potential. I went out and about but couldn't find an outlet for it. I should have jumped into the wind-blown waves, but instead sat on the sidelines like usual. Went into Fira and wandered around aimlessly. Looked enviously at all the happy couples.

Fed up of being passive! Never do anything for myself, always relying on others. Take buses rather than drive, do everything online rather than in person, let external forces dictate what I do rather than make decisions for myself. I want to be active in life not just a marginal figure that flits from place to place and from one thing to another.

...there is no greater glory for a living man than that which he wins with his own hands and feet.Homer - The Odyssey

I never compete with people or challenge myself, and shy away from new experiences. I'm afraid of failure and stop things halfway. I lived in Italy for two years and never learned the language properly. I started learning to drive then just stopped. I dream up plans for bettering myself as a person then fritter my free time away, even though I have so much of it.

I want a girlfriend and I want to be the kind of person she'd be proud to introduce to her family and friends. At the moment I feel like I'm too divorced from reality. I certainly feel very alienated from all the tourists running around the island (and the locals in the service industry fueling their dream/delusion), and I have the sinking feeling that they are both representative of normality.

Feverish night, strange dream-hallucinations. Windy road up mountain, drawn in scribble, many different difficult paths, long slog but knew I'd get there in the end.

Didn't leave the house. Lovely hotel owner popped by to give me pills.

Indulged in a day of internet browsing. Very relaxing. Read blogs. So many people like me. Lots of young men with drive, ambition, anxiety. Dissatisfaction, panic, uncertainty, narcissism. Similar constellations of interests; coding, psychology, philosophy, travel.

Again the feeling of replaceability, interchangeability, of not being individuals but part of a wider inevitability. No matter how out-there, innovative, independent you are, there are, or will be, hundreds just like you.