Zen and the Art of Donkey Maintenance Read Online Free PDF Page A

good luck to you.”
    â€œWe must keep in touch. How will I know where you are?”
    â€œI’ll write to you at Poste Restante here.”
    In Athens, I parted from my traveling companions and bought a bus ticket for twenty shillings.
    Seven hours later I reached the end of the road, literally, in a small village at the foot of a mountain in the Peloponnese. For twenty-six years that peninsula had beckoned me like the finger of Fate.

Chapter 2
Rich Beyond the Potency of Wealth
    Anogia had not changed very much. It had electric light now but that was more of a change for the people than for the town.
    And the mayor had not changed very much except that he was no longer mayor and he was twenty-six years older. I spent my first night in his home, listening to the endless reminiscence of war and the echoes of 1941.
    But mine was no pilgrimage to ancient battlefields. I had written to my friend explaining my mission and my needs. At the first opportunity – provided by lack of mutually comprehensible vocabulary – I asked about the chances of finding a place to live in.
    â€œI have found you one,” he said, delighted at the pleasure this news would provide.
    â€œYou have! Where? Whose? How far? How much?”
    â€œIt is here in Anogia. A fine big house. It belongs to the doctor. You can live in it.”
    I tried hard to conceal the disappointment. But it had to be said now before I became imprisoned in their generosity and good will and my own gratitude.
    â€œThat’s wonderful, terrific. But Nick, as I told you in my letter, my house must be near the sea. It is part of… part of the dream.”
    â€œI don’t know anything about the sea,” he said, his elation at shared pleasure wilting slightly, “but if you want the doctor’s house you can have it.”
    We called on the doctor the next morning. It was a fine big house. And there were orange and lemon trees in full fruit in the garden. I could pick them from the bedroom window. But it was not by the sea and it did not have a beach for beachcombing.
    I asked if I could stay there until I found what I was seeking. The doctor said I could stay there until I found heaven and practically moved into the servants’ quarters so that I could have full run of the place. He refused to consider offers of payment.
    The second day after my return to Anogia, I walked down to the main road. Greece was a hitch-hiker’s paradise and three cars later I found myself at the end of a causeway running out to a great cliff of an island in the bay. I strolled over and ducked through an archway into the medieval world that is Monemvasia. I headed for the
taverna
.
    The proprietress was the sole occupant and she could speak no English. I invested in a half-litre of wine (it cost one shilling and nine pence) and waited for destiny to show up.
    It came in the persons of two young men who ordered coffee and were obviously well known to the woman-in-charge.
    â€œYou speak English?” I asked.
    They nodded but not with any great confidence.
    â€œI am looking for a house by the sea. A hut would do. I want to write a book. Is there any chance of finding such a house?”
    That seemed to say everything. They consulted briefly together, shrugging.
    â€œThere are lots of empty houses in Greece these days. You will not have much trouble.”
    â€œI have no money.” That was something else I’d better say quick.
    â€œThat also is not a problem in Greece. Except in Monemvasia where even the price of ruins has gone up.”
    â€œI do not want to live in a town or village. I wantisolation. You understand? By myself.”
    They held another quick conference. Then one turned to me and said casually: “If you want to be by yourself, why don’t you try the lighthouse?”
    â€œThe lighthouse!” My heart leapt at the word.
    They explained that the original light had been replaced by an automatic device and that