Pt2 - 11: NAXOS The sleek new hydrofoil motored across Santorini’s sheltered harbour on course for Naxos like a yellow torpedo. I sank back into the aircraft seat with a copy of the Times bought yesterday in Thira for what I assumed would be two and a half hours of satin smooth sailing, but the moment we broached open water it was suddenly more like a Cessna in a washing machine. I folded the newspaper up and concentrated on not losing the bacon and two fried eggs I had for breakfast. It took a while, but I eventually attuned to the conditions and recovered some composure. The day was hot and clear, but out here the breeze whipped up enough chop to suck the fun out of the crossing. Even as we forged the last 200 meters to the town pier at Naxos the wind fairly howled across our bow. It wasn’t just the maelstrom that made Naxos seem our most charmless landfall in the islands. Apart from the classical arch on the low bluff to port, the waterfront and the promenade lacked the colo...
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