Ithaka Bound

I’d tried three or four other names; all included the word Greece, and all were already taken by others.   I wracked my brain for a clever name but brilliant ideas were in short supply.  I began looking at photographs of Greece on the internet.  The photo on the home page of this blog came up and I thought it looked exactly as I’d imagined the coast of Ithaka to look like.  Then I remembered that beautiful poem by Cavafy.

My mind wandered to the King of Ithaka who left his home, all those centuries ago, to fight the Trojans over an abducted Spartan queen named Helen. How long Odysseus wandered, looking and yearning for home, never giving up until he had Ithaka in his sights.

Ithaka is the proverbial homeland of the soul that we all seek–internally or externally–we all know it’s there, we can sense it just in front of us, always just out of reach.  Ithaka represented the homeland I was actively seeking and, like Odysseus, I was Ithaka bound. I decided to make my pursuit external and included it on my list of islands to visit.

I never expected to love it so much.

Arriving in Ithaka is special, no matter how you do it.  If you take a boat from Lefkada, over water as smooth as glass, you’ll arive in the postcard port of Frikes.  Arriving by way of the main port of Vathi, (Ithaka has a permanent population of 300)  is just as breathtaking an experience.  You’ll be greeted by a sign in the port reminding you that every traveler is a citizen of Ithaka.

I guess that’s why I felt so at home there. I’ve been a traveler since birth and I knew that there must be a home for my tribe.  I think wanderlust is wired into our genes the same way green eyes or a dimpled chin would be.  Don’t blame me if I can’t stop wandering–its in my DNA.

It’s in yours too.

I’m not going to post any photos of Ithaka because I don’t want to ruin your arrival on the island.  You’ll find Ithaka to be exactly as you’d imagined–an emerald green jewel rising out of a turquoise sea.  The greenest island in Greece, surrounded by the clearest, calmest waters that never knew a meltemi.

That’s as far as my description will go.  I wish you a journey as happy as mine was, and may you be spared the trials of Odysseus.

Ithaka sunrise.

I’ll be back in the States on the 10th.  I’m giving myself two days to get to Athens, just in case the sea decides to delay my return or someone goes on strike.

I’ll keep the blog going because I enjoy writing about Greece and I can’t keep bothering the people around me with tiresome talk of the Golden Age of Perikles and the lost boys of Sparta.  And my journey isn’t over yet.  I haven’t even told you what decisions I’ve made or what my plans are.

Thank you to everyone who took time out of their busy day to stop by and read, especially those who left comments.   It would have been enough for me to simply have a record of my trip, but knowing there was someone actually reading on the other side made it a lot more enjoyable.

If you’ve been lurking, how about leaving a comment and telling me how your summer went?  I suspect some of you are friends already, but friend or stranger, I’m dying to know who you are.  No pressure though, I’ve been a confirmed lurker on a few blogs myself.

Hope your road is a long one.

I expect my return acclimatzation to be painful–I’ve been living a greek island dream so what else could it be?  My first few days without the sea will surely have me sobbing like a Sicilian widow.

I usually spend Sunday afternoons in the Bishop’s Garden.  Stop by and say hello if you want to join me in my lovesickness.  I’ll be the one with a cloud of kleenex at my feet.

Salvador Dali gets a much needed break.