Ithaca

Did Odysseus, or someone like him, really set sail from this island back in the earliest memories of western civilization? Looking down on the dazzling deep blue of Vathy Harbour from the mountains that encircle it, it is perfectly possible to imagine a fleet of “black-prowed ships” heading off on a sea journey of over five hundred nautical miles to Troy. Achilles was Homer’s great hero of the Greek forces at Troy, but Odysseus was always my favourite, famed for his cunning and his skill with words, the hero who brought the war to an end by strategy as well as strength. The Odyssey relates his ten year struggle to return home after the war; it is our great archetype of the epic journey in western literature.

 

The Odyssey World Tour T shirt

No-one really knows the route Homer had in mind. Some places were clearly real, some probably seafarers’ tall tales, most have had many changes of name in the last two and a half thousand years, and of course modern tourism demands that any vague link be exploited to the full. Some scholars claim that Odysseus’ home was actually Lefkas or Cephalonia, but Homer’s words could certainly describe the island of Ithaca:

A rugged land, too cramped for driving horses,

But though it’s far from broad, it’s hardly poor.

There’s plenty of grain for bread, grapes for wine,

Little rain but healthy dewfall.

Good country for goats, for cattle too.

There’s stand on stand of timber

And streams that run throughout the year …

Ancient olive tree

 

Vathy harbour was a beautiful sight on a fine morning: well sheltered, the bay surrounded by pretty Venetian-style villas in pastel colours, mountains covered in pine and olives beyond that, and a constant stream of yachts coming and going, enjoying the closing weeks of the sailing season.

The harbour of Vathy

We hired a scooter (€15 a day) to check out the rest of the island – awesome views of the whole of Ithaca and its neighbours from the roads skirting the mountainsides; olive groves and fine villas; an ancient church in the Paleohora with its Byzantine frescoes still intact; and of course the vivid blue Ionian – Homer’s “wine-dark sea” - on every side.

The ancient church

 

 

And finally it was time to leave Greece, the land of legends, where Western culture was born. By my calculations we have visited 25 islands plus several places on the mainland and the Peloponnese – which leaves about 1375 islands still to see! We met an erudite gentleman from Orlando, Florida (though he’s British) in Nisyros last year, Mr Miles, who had a goal of visiting 100 inhabited Greek Islands.  He was up to 95.

  

The people you meet (Terry)

We were dining in the Trehantiri, a much-lauded “Lonely Planet” restaurant in Vathy, Ithaca, discovering for a second night why people rabbited on about it.  It was A-1 Excellent.  First night I had the lamb, which had been stewed and roasted in some order, for what seemed like two days because I could eat it with a fork.  I added mixed vegetables to this, zucchini and eggplant and potato, and it was superb.  Unfortunately, the remainder of the dish had been booked by others in the know (a table of about 12) so only one portion was available and Cal had to have the chicken, which was no bad second prize.  As a consolation, she got to have the roasted Artichokes, which were unbelievable.

Second night, she got in first and said it was her night for lamb.  No joy.  No lamb.  Tonight was goat.  Ok, 2 x goat with mixed roasted vegetables.  With beer.  It was wonderful.  The hubby of the lady who is obviously SWMBO in the place does pretty much as he’s told.  Take this order, clear that table etc etc.  He does all this amiably, as if he’s just happy to play second fiddle to Her with the virtuoso violin.  It works well.  He came over to our table and indicated that the goat was his doing.  I looked in mock amazement and said/mimed “you cooked this? ”  No, he said.  I shot it!  Oh well, it had to come from somewhere.

Alongside us was a British couple from Kent.  It is one of this lifestyle’s damning features that no sooner do you meet people who are genuinely interesting, warm, open and full of beans than they are gone from your life forever.

We met Jan and Peter, from a village in Kent.  For the life of me, I can’t remember its name but it was near Tunbridge Wells and up a hill.  To the world, they looked like an aging Brit couple on annual holiday, enjoying a tourist spot in Greece.  In reality, they were seasoned adventurers of many years of escapades.  For something like 40 years they had Narrowboat tours of the UK, back before almost anybody did it.  They’d been bucketloads of places and lived to tell the tale.  Modest, unassuming and ever so Englishly-polite, they were delightful company.  Jan told me about a book by a chappy by the name of Terry Darlington called “Narrow Dog to Carcassone”, another Brit, his wife and their whippet who crossed the Channel in their Narrowboat and took it to the Med.  Yes, that’s how you build an empire – some of you just have to be up for anything!

Then the heavens opened and Ithaka was deluged.  A large party of 10 needed accommodating, we four had finished so tables were cleared amid much ado and new diners introduced.  Jan and Peter departed for their digs before we could share details and what I have left from the engagement is a downloaded copy of Narrow Dog to Carcassone on my Kindle DX and a pleasant memory of two delightful people from somewhere in Kent near Royal Tunbridge Wells.

We set off north and west across the Adriatic on an overnight sail for Italy.  Not the best of passages, with a sea from the port stern quarter rolling us around every 8 or 10 swells, a wind that rose and died, with sails coming out and going away again, and a constant procession of large cargo ships who all seemed to want the same line that we wanted.  We were glad to finally arrive in Otranto, Italy, to tie up on the dock and be checked in to Italy by a pleasant young Guardia Costiera officer.

 

We only just beat the weather in......