Since the Easter weekend, one of the most important celebrations in the Orthodox calendar, Kos has transformed its face. As every spring, shopfronts have been freshly repainted, restaurants along the harbour have reopened, terraces are filling up, and the air is filled with a mix of languages. The return of tourists brings small businesses back to life, rekindles the enthusiasm of restaurant owners, and infuses the island with the seasonal energy locals know so well. But just a few kilometres away, in another Kos, doors don’t open with the same warmth. For those who cross the sea seeking asylum, there’s no ouzo toast to welcome them. In this microcosm of the Aegean, two kinds of travellers coexist: some are welcomed, served, pampered; others are ignored, monitored, and sidelined.