I saw these photos of Matala in Crete and remembered my few weeks there sleeping in a cave in the mid 1970s. Completely unspoilt then.
One 'cafe'. Used to order fries, he would wait until he had three orders then go to the shop to buy the potatoes. Meanwhile we would drink homemade raki and play backgammon.
The end of several months of backpacking around Europe. Never gave a thought to not being able to go where I wanted. Picking grapes, sleeping rough, jumping a freight train, gatecrashing youth hostels to get free breakfast, the care of strangers.