Away to one side, close by the seafront but dignified and set apart from the business of commerce, a circle is carved into the stones, and within it is a lowered, wood-boarded space surrounded by old-fashioned torches and covered in a layer of sand: a play area for children, say, or a showing pen for livestock. I can hear the sound of the sea in the rocks below, twenty metres down. Stella-Adrasteia catches the direction of my gaze.