Turkey enters the account as both a visible neighbor and a presence in the island’s history. The narrator and Izumi live on an unnamed Greek island closer to the Turkish shore than to any other Greek island; from there, Asia Minor appears just across the water, making the border feel immediate rather than abstract.

Geography and proximity

The island is near the border with Turkey, and on clear days the narrator and Izumi can make out the greenish Turkish mountains. The locals joke that on windy days the smell of shish kebab carries across from Turkey. Beyond the joke, the narrator emphasizes the geography: Turkey is closer than the next Greek island, and its land is visible from the island’s harbor.

Historical presence

The town square holds a weatherworn statue of a Greek independence hero who led an insurrection on the Greek mainland and planned an uprising against the Turks, who then controlled the island. The Turks captured and executed him, and the statue marks the spot where his death was said to have occurred. Sea wind, dust, and seagull droppings have worn away the statue’s features; the locals scarcely notice it, and it seems turned away from the island and the world. The monument preserves a history of Turkish rule even as its neglect makes that past easy to overlook.

The island’s edge

Sitting at an outdoor café, the narrator and Izumi look across the harbor toward the Turkish hills. He describes their position as the edge of Europe, with Turkey close enough to make the island’s borderland character tangible. The setting’s wind, distance, and sense of strangeness frame the couple’s life there: Turkey is not simply a destination in the story, but the neighboring land that gives their temporary refuge its particular feeling of remoteness.