“YOU WANT TO GO WHERE?” The manager of the Galawa Hotel shouted his shock at me.
“I want to visit one of the other islands,” I repeated.
“But WHY? NOBODY goes to the other islands!”
“Well, I want to.”
He stared at me and must have read determination in my gaze. “Where is it you want to go?”
It was the prettiest, most populous of the Comoro Islands, four tropical specks scattered off the north coast of Madagascar.
The manager sighed. “It will be expensive.”