The Island Without Tourists

Koinobori, traditional carp windsocks, flying over Naoshima’s school grounds this month.

After a few days of perfect, cloud-free blue, the sky on Naoshima settled into a muted gray. Up the street from us, an old man was burning wood scraps and other garbage in a barrel, and the campfire smell made its way through the village. But unlike most Aprils, this year there wasn’t anyone walking around to notice the smoke. The island has no tourists.