‘I don’t want you to think I spend all my spare time looking at dogs’ genitals or anything – it’s just that I grew up with dogs, and when I saw the pack in the square, I checked them out, sized them up. You know, are they okay? Are they aggressive?’

‘You obviously decided they were okay, then.’

‘Yeah. I mean, she’s a stray. I’d say they’re all strays, but she seems friendly enough. Aren’t you, girl?’ As if on cue, the dog barked. ‘Hah!’ Josh laughed. ‘That’s awesome. She’s smart too.’

The dog looked from Josh to me and back again and barked once more. It was starting to play out like a scene from a movie. ‘What’s that, girl? Jimmy’s stuck down a ravine?’ ‘Woof!’

Josh stood up, and the dog wagged her tail vigorously. He petted her on the head, and she licked at his fingers again before turning a full circle and running ahead of us. She stopped about ten metres away and looked back at us.

‘Uh, I think she wants us to follow her,’ I said. Was this really happening?

‘Well, she knows the town better than we do,’ Josh responded.

And that was how we ended up on a tour of the town, being led by a scrawny stray dog with a smiley face. She stayed about three metres ahead of us the whole time, stopping regularly to check we were still following her. We meandered down streets and walkways, working our way further up the hill until we came upon the enormous church overlooking the town.

The dog sat down and looked out at the vista; we stood behind her and did the same.

‘I’m running out of superlatives,’ I said, a little out of breath from the last – and steepest – part of our walk up the hill.

‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’

‘Amazing, incredible, breathtaking, beautiful – just – wow.’

‘You seem to have a lot of superlatives.’

‘True, but none of them does this justice. And look at that church! It doesn’t look this big when you see it from the marina.’ We walked along the wall of the church, taking it in. Our dog decided to stay where she was, still enjoying the water views.

The church looked like it was carved from butter by a very sharp knife, and then piped with cream-coloured icing to highlight its angles and arches. A giant blue cupola and two bell towers punctuated the roofline. It looked down on the town of Ermoupoli, a giant confectionary protector.

‘This town is so different from where we’ve been,’ I said. ‘I know I keep saying that, but it’s such a hodgepodge of European architecture compared with the typical Greek island structures. It’s making me a little nostalgic for France, actually.’

‘Oh yeah?’