We had travelled for days, and at last we reached the southern edges of Europe. It had been an adventurous voyage so far:

• In a medieval French square we’d caught a glimpse of a JS lookalike in a red spotted dress who inadvertently displayed her knickers every time a gust of wind blew the full cotton skirt over her head.
• Again in France, a young woman had attempted to steal our car. She claimed that she had mistaken it for her own.
• In the latter stages of the journey JG had requested a diversion to visit a textile manufacturer so that we could have some tour T-shirts made up.

Now JH and I walked the length of the quayside arm-in-arm, looking out to sea and the towards the in-coming ferry that would eventually take us even further south. Then we rejoined the others, deep in conversation with three Greeks, all of whom were former Masters students of BB and included one who now worked for Microsoft.

A little later TPR took me aside to say his goodbyes. He said that he hoped that we would meet again one day on the island of Sassau. Then he jumped on his bike and cycled off into the distance. I knew in my heart that he was deserting me.

Sassau is the only island in Walchensee, Bavaria. Rousse had no idea she even knew of the place until it appeared in this dream, but it makes sense that TPR would seek out yet another island for cycling fun. It’s just so sad that he did so on his own.