Abstract: It’s a calm winter noon. The weather is quite smooth and warm for the time. You sit in the ‘Coral’, old ‘Achillion’ or ‘Rhapsody’: it is of no importance. At some point you observe four or five speedboats on the Thermaikos’ horizon. It seems a little odd, but you don’t bother. The gulf of Thermaikos remains sordid as ever, despite the fabled biological cleaning system and the occasional use of small old ships for the collection of floating garbage and lingering sewage pumped into the sea. Anyone can take a walk, you think, as long as he boldly accepts the risk of a free-fall.
The speedboats approach closer and closer the shore towards the White Tower. You notice that all speedboats are crowded and suspect that this may be part of a novel tourist attraction of the inventive mayor or prefect, who govern this ‘erotic’ city.
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