Some places haunt you.

I‘m somewhere north of Naxos, somewhere south of Piraeus, surrounded by the low, dry scatter of islands knows as the Cyclades. The larger, inhabited islands clamber out the water until they’re distant mountains, but they’re in the minority: most of the 220 islands and islets are inhospitable lumps of rock, many rearing up like pieces of broken bottle…

The light is fading, turning the water leaden and the sky a misty vanilla. I’m at the railing of my Blue Star ferry, sad in the certainty that the light’s too poor to take any decent photos with my point’n’click, but trying anyway because you just never know.

And I’m right. The photos are fine.

(Thus endeth the lesson).

Away in the distant is the silhouette of an uninhabited crumble of islets. I snap at them wildly.

A few weeks later I blow the photos up, and discover…there’s something on the island on the left. Something. Can you see it too?

And it haunts me. There’s many things it could be, but I just don’t know.

And now, I have to know.

Someday, somehow.

……….

What half-glimpsed places in the world haunt you?