The old car stops outside an old two-storey villa a couple of dozen metres from the sandy beach. The driver nods in the direction of the house and drives off as Christian leaves the cabin, clutching his suitcase and a sheet with the address. He walks down the stone path to the house and knocks on the door. As the lady of the house walks to the door, the man has time to survey the grounds - the green gardens stretching away into the distance, the spacious backyard, and even what appears to be a swimming pool half hidden from the sun by a canopy covered with some kind of plant. "Hello," Christian says as soon as the door opens. Instead of the elderly Italian woman he expected to see, the man sees a young woman.