A lot of water has passed under the hull since we wrote our blog about Cephalonia. From Efemia, we'd made a quick hop to Vathi on the island of Ithaki, the legendary home of Odysseus and a place we'd really enjoyed visiting in 2009.
Link to Aisling's Ithaci blog 2009
As we made our approach to Vathi, sailboats were literally pouring out of the mouth of the harbor. We counted 51, most of which seemed to be charter boats. Although it isn't unusual for charter boats to travel in large flotillas in the Ionian, we still aren't sure why so many departed simultaneously. It may have had something to do with the Vathi Port Police who, for reasons that remain mysterious to us, were not allowing anyone to anchor in the outer reaches of the harbor. I won't get into the details of how long it took to find a spot that all of us (the Port Police, me and Rick) could agree on.
Ni and Krissy on Finalmente had arrived in Vathi the previous day and had rented a car, so the next morning we hopped into their back seat for a quick tour of the southern part of the island. On our way out of Vathi, we stopped at the "Cave of the Nymphs", where local lure claims that the sleeping Odysseus was dropped by the Phaeacians when they returned him to Ithaca. In 2009, we'd tried to visit the cave and found it locked. Since then, the gate had been pried open, probably without the knowledge of local officialdom.
It was a sadly neglected and horribly dangerous place, with vandalized stalactites and a rusty lift hanging over a seemingly bottomless pit. We had come prepared with flashlights (never go ashore without one) but the beams couldn't penetrate the depths. All we saw was a bat.
After seeing a Greek man (the sole other visitor) come within a whisker of death by tripping at the edge of the pit, we retreated to the car. If any tourists have been reported missing on the island of Ithaci lately, someone should send a search team to the bottom of the Cave of the Nymphs.
We spent the rest of the morning driving through back roads and hiking along thorny country paths, half-heartedly searching for some of the Homeric sites mentioned in our Blue Guide. We saw no evidence of Eumaios or his swine, but time spent wandering through an olive grove with views of the sea can't be considered wasted. The olive trees were ancient, huge and knarled, many surrounded by the remains of circular stone walls.
Of course, there's always a grimy side. An abandoned truck looked almost as old as the olive trees. And obviously some graffiti artists had been out hiking too.
The car rental agency's clock was ticking, so we headed back to Vathi, topping off the morning with "freddocino" (cold cappuccino) on the waterfront. Walking through some of the shops in the town, we met an elderly Greek man who took great pride in showing us a photo of the boat he had sailed up the St. Lawrence river in. We visited a small church, with a lovely but damaged ceiling medallion of "Christ Pantocrator" (Christ Almighty). We've seen more beautiful ones, but this one was interesting because it had "Pantocrator" written in Greek letters across the top.
Then, instead of going back to the waterfront for lunch, we found a small taverna on a back street, where the food was inexpensive and delicious. We've finally realized that the best meals are generally found in out-of-the way places, where local residents congregate and English is not spoken.
We'd planned to hang out in Vathi for a while, but the Port Police were still making a real nuisance of themselves. As more and more boats were directed into the small designated anchoring area on the east side of the harbour, the conditions were becoming a bit too cozy. Rick has recently resolved not to tell others that they are anchoring too close for comfort, but can't seem to stop himself from pacing and fretting. Even though he doesn't speak to anyone directly, he stands on deck, stares, and mutters things under his breath like "Come
on buddy, you're not going to anchor
there are you?" After two days of this he'd had enough, so we decided to move on to "One House Bay", which Ni and Krissy had described as idyllic. Unfortunately, on that day at least, it would have been better described as "Twenty Boat Bay". So much for things getting quieter in September!
Instead of trying to squeeze in, we continued on to Nidri on the island of Lefkada. Once again we were back in familiar territory. As we set our anchor in Tranquil Bay (which was surprisingly uncrowded) we remembered our friend Jaap greeting us there two years before, gesturing at the expansive view and asking us "How do you like my garden?" Nidri may be crowded and overly-developed, but for as long as we stayed, we'd be looking at a millionaire's view in all directions. It was great to be back!