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"The land was sparse, dry, covered in Maquis shrub; juniper, myrtle, dwarf pine, wild rosemary. They were all more all or less aromatic, the beating sun releasing a heady scent into the air. He walked down the track, his boots crunching on gravel. In the bay below, the sea, a bright Mediterranean blue lazily caressed the cliffs. He was searching for geckos β sunny days brought them out to bask. Cold rendered them inactive. He thought of his wife. She was like that. Back in Manchester sheβd