“Take Picasso, Brancusi, and Gaudi, knock their heads together, and you might get something like Mykonos by evening light, foundering into violet whiteness against a blue-black sea.” The back alleys of the island’s harbour town have barely changed since Lawrence Durrell fell under its spell. The intensity of light and purity of form, a world apart from the chatter and patter of boutiques and bars.

Deep in this mysterious labyrinth — haphazard, yet perfectly harmonious — is another Mykonos. Authentic, unpolished, and largely undiscovered.