We didn’t mean to be here. But here we are. On the wrong Aeolian Island because the seas were too high and the ferry could not go to Salina, our real destination. The weather has shifted; strong winds have come up (From Aeolus — no wonder the Greeks named these islands after him), the kind that can move iron chairs on the patio. We found Siracusa fascinating, but oppressive. We still can’t figure out why. Today we feel relieved and excited even though it took us ten hours to get here. It is dark out and I am sitting on our tiled terrace at the hotel we found at the last minute. Lipari is lit up in a semi circle below. There is a ferris wheel spinning like a star. And some kind of disco vrumping out tunes. The moon is 3/4 full. The clouds are scudding. We are up on a hill, a steep hill; the harbor is splashing between us and the lights of town. We feel far away from all we know.