Some years ago we were invited to lunch with friends in Afrata village, whose house stands on a hill with a commanding view of the Gulf of Chania and Lefka Ori. As we stood on the balcony a fellow guest, a Chania businessman, gripped us by the arm and said “Look!” in conspiratorial tones. It turned out that he was looking not at the stupendous view but at the sky which was criss-crossed with vapour trials from passing aircraft. “Contrails!” he said darkly, “It’s the CIA …”