Soon Carol transferred to Steve. I did protest, but soon resigned myself in relief to the role of sympathetic loser. There were no other female permanent residents in the village, but each night we had visitors from all over the world.

On the beach near Eilath, three Dutch guys were living in a bungalow tent. I had exchanged a few words with them in passing on a number of occasions, and I had noticed that an exquisitely beautiful girl hung around with them. Slightly smallish, black hair and a fine-featured face, but French, so hardly within reach of my tongue. One day I passed by and one of the guys called out to me. They were going home and were looking for a proper shelter for Isabelle. So, was I willing to take her under my wing? – but she was very delicate and I would have to leave her in peace.

That I promised and the next day she was conveyed. There was sufficient room on my pebble-bed and sleeping-bags are excellent guardians against fleeting encounters. In fact she was far too beautiful for me, although I did not mind her lying beside me while her untouchability made her grow in preciousness and beauty. This went on for nearly a week; we lived in the hut like two travellers who happened to be sharing the same room. In the daytime we did our own thing, in the evening we were not necessarily sitting together at the camp fire. Neither did we go to sleep simultaneously and only woke up together by chance.

One afternoon, Steve and I were talking, I saw Isabelle approach on the levee, accompanied by a boy. She told him to wait there and went into the hut. I hurried inside. She was collecting her stuff because she was leaving with him. For a second or two I felt numb, and then held out my hand in an attempted farewell.

She dropped on top of me, crying, and clasped me tight. I tried to comfort her in Dutch, but she started taking my clothes off - and her own as well. She wore a bathing suit underneath, but did not put in any effort other than simply pushing it aside. When we had finished somewhat sloppily, she started giggling nervously and sent the boyfriend away. From that moment she became my remora and lasted a lot longer than my lust. A few days later she suddenly disappeared altogether.

To be continued: ‘Beachnik’