LETTER 04 · MEMORY & HOME

The things I miss in August

Somewhere between the sea, a fig and doing absolutely nothing.

August in Greece is not really a month for me.

It is a ceremony.

For years, it has been the time when I recharge my mental and physical state.

You swim.

You eat.

You sleep.

You go back into the sea.

And slowly, something that has been running too fast for the rest of the year begins to slow down.

Now I live in London, August makes me miss very small things.

Figs warm from the sun.

Salt drying on your skin.

Watermelon after lunch.

The sound of cicadas when it is so hot that even they seem slightly unreasonable.

Greek lemonade.

A tomato that actually tastes like a tomato.

None of these things sounds particularly important.

Until you can't have them.

Then they become enormous.

I miss swimming most.

Not swimming as exercise.

Swimming because the sea is there.

Going into the water without needing a reason.

Coming out.

Drying in the sun.

Going back in.

Doing this so many times that eventually you stop knowing whether you are wet or dry.

That is my August.

It is how I recharge my batteries.

And then there is παγωτό καϊμάκι — pagotó kaimaki.

Kaimaki ice cream.

For me, preferably with vyssino on top — sour cherry.

Some foods belong so completely to a place and a moment that eating them somewhere else isn't quite the same.

I don't simply want kaimaki.

I want kaimaki near the coast after swimming.

That is different.

Perhaps this is what happens when you leave the country where you were born.

Memory becomes ridiculously specific.

You don't necessarily spend your time missing monuments.

You miss a biscuit.

A tomato.

A particular ice cream.

The temperature of the air when you come out of the sea.

The sound outside the window.

If you're in Greece in August while I'm in London, I have a request.

Swim for me.

Stay in longer than you intended.

Eat something that was warm from the sun.

Sit somewhere in the evening when the heat is finally beginning to leave the stone.

And have a kaimaki with vyssino for me.

Actually, make that two.

You can have mine as well.

— From London, with Greece in mind.