Standing outside Mycenae’s ancient ruins, hands in our pockets and our backs to the wind, we wait for the gate to open. The sky is clear this morning, but I fear the weather might be a nuisance while painting. I’m still tired too. Last night around midnight, a motorcycle raced up and down the street in front of the hotel, blaring its exhaust until I thought the sound would blow out the windows of the hotel. Then a car joined in the fun, and together they raced up and down the otherwise deserted and tranquil street. I was too tired to get up and look out into the darkness, and eventually, once the clatter stopped, I fell back asleep.