Manolis Neroutsos, October 2001. Manolis was born in Vathi, where he has farmland, one of the best tavernas around and, now, rooms to rent. He owns property elsewhere on Sifnos and has travelled, but Vathi remains his home in the deepest sense. No road reached Vathi until the 1990s; there was only the summer tourist ferry from Kamares, the occasional fishing boat that didn't mind a passenger, or the donkey tracks over the hills. Until the day of this photograph Manolis had never seen the island's north-east coast. In 1982 I rented my first room on Sifnos from him and outlasted the tourist season, unable to tear myself away from the mesmeric bay, which he too would sit and contemplate each day towards dusk, with a coffee and a cigarette. He can't read, won’t confess to knowing English and isn’t one for even Greek small talk, but his eyes twinkle with thought, he’ll always find a way to convey a wry joke and if you seem a decent sort he'll clap you on the shoulder for just long enough to make words unnecessary. A man of great humour, depth, tolerance and generosity. Sas evharisto, o Manolis.