Kefalonia's Myth-Weaving and Spinning Neighbor

Does beauty love company?
Yes, it does!
And if this beauty happens to be a place rather than a person, how can it find suitable and worthy associations?
By being in the right neighborhood, of course!

Vathy, Ithaca

Ithaca, Kefalonia's myth-spinning and weaving neighbor, is just as exquisite and bewitching. And, perhaps, a bit more alluring in its intrinsic charm.

All credit is due to its eternal mistress and her discerning ways!


"Yes, you can twiddle time in Ithaca unraveling the verses of the myth. Or you can spin and weave a new myth—your personal epic..."

➥ Read my full article here:
A HOMECOMING BEYOND THE MYTH

From Dartford, UK to New York, USA via Katelios, Kefalonia: more than a Geographic Hyberbole

WHO WAS IT THAT SAID "ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL?"

It started in August of 2011.

But it didn't start with a kiss, the kisses and hugs came much later! It all started with a message in my FB inbox:
"Hi Eleni , hope you don't mind me sending you this but I've just been reading your Kefalonia World! My husband and I have been going to Katelios for 20 years now —every summer without fail! We love your island! ... I just wanted to say I enjoyed your May blog after coming home to UK and rain yesterday!"

It was a message from Pam, a reader who had stumbled upon this blog and wanted to let me know that she enjoyed it. I accepted that friendship request and the rest, as they say, is history. I became "FB friends" with Graham, her husband, as well. I was still living in Kefalonia at the time and, after several virtual exchanges, we were to finally meet in the summer of 2012 when they were to visit the island once again. However, I relocated to New York in the spring of that year and the meeting never took place.

Sunrise over Katelios as seen from Markopoulo, Kefalonia

In October of 2012, Pam and Graham visited New York and we renewed our plans to get together. Well, you know what they say about "the best laid plans of mice and men.." Hurricane Sandy decided to put a damper on those plans (pun intended).

They were stranded in Manhattan and I was keeping my head above water out on Long Island. After surviving dangling cranes, submerged subways, and an emergency evacuation from their hotel, my - still - virtual friends finally made their way back to England. Plans were postponed once again.

October 2013 rolled around. Pam and Graham were to visit again, and we made plans once again. We were determined - but so were the elements of Nature! St. Jude, a long lost cousin of our Lady Sandy, made his way to the other side of the big pond this time. Fortunately, Pam and Graham's flight managed to take off before the storm became nasty, and we FINALLY got to meet in Manhattan!

I will stop the story here and let the images speak for themselves. Anything else would be an OXYMORON. But that's an inside joke that I cannot even start to explain in this limited space.
Suffice it to say that this is the first time I post photos on this blog that were not taken on Kefalonia.
But I think you'll understand...

Finally! Only a red light and the pavement of W 59th St.- Central Park South between us

Pam and Graham - from virtual to real friends

New York this time, Katelios next time?

P.S. I'm overjoyed and proud that this blog is about so much more than page views and all those numbers on Google Analytics. It's about views of cherished places, colors, sunrises, sunsets - and the feelings they evoke - shared with those who understand.
And Pam 'n Graham understand... just like Emma 'n Neal and Lynn 'n Andy do.
I feel fortunate in knowing each one of them.

In the Company of Perfect Strangers

Makris Gialos Beach, Kefalonia (in late October)

There's an unspoken understanding and a silent solidarity between people who frequent some of my favorite places on the island. Communication is carried out mainly by glances, smiles, nods and gestures. Faces become familiar after a while and there's an inherent understanding and respect for that space that each of us is allotted for fulfilling the purpose of his visit.

A fisherman, a woman walking her dog, a couple waiting for the sunset, a jogger, an amateur photographer—each with their own agenda. Once in a while, after some familiarity is established, the nods and gestures are accompanied by a few substantial words and suggestions:
"...over those rocks you'll get a better view of the seagulls" 
"if you really want to capture some big waves, you should come in the morning"
or the inevitable question:  
"....do you ever publish these photos, is anyone interested in seeing winter images?"

I have learned so much from my "comrades in solitude." A fisherman gave me a condensed course in understanding weather so I can choose the right place and time for perfect clouds and colorful seas. An English couple tipped me off as to the purple skies of dusk that I might miss at Ammes Beach if I leave right after sundown. A jogger at Makris Gialos made a slight detour to leave some footprints so that my photo (above) would turn out less bland. Without a word, just a bow and a smile before he returned to his original path.

Thinking about this the other day, I found myself humming some lyrics from an old tune. One I haven't even heard in years, but so appropriate for the situation; it really describes what all us strangers do when smiling, nodding, and gesturing to each other in places of solitude...

Yes,indeed,

❝ We fill out the missing colors 
In each other's paint-by-number dreams...❞

(from Jackson Browne's The Pretender, paraphrased a tiny bit)

Bridging the Distance

The mainland as seen from southeastern Kefalonia

When skies take on pale, powder blue and gray shades, they do so with a purpose. Only then do the outlines of the mainland take on definite shape and form. Hazy blobs in the horizon pop out for what they really are: snow covered mountains, rugged islets, and rock formations acting as "pit stops" for seagulls. 

Some are closer than others but there is no use in trying to map out "what is what" and attach names to them—though each one does have a unique name.

On a clear-skies, true blue day you probably could because, strangely enough, there is less to see. Then, only the largest and well recognized islands and islets are visible.

But on subtle and mute-colored, less vivid, days the more obscure formations come into focus, blotting out the big picture and forcing you to concentrate on details.

Like the flight path of seagulls that bridges the distance between here and there.
Or, the relevance of distance itself when it comes to drifting over the sea.

A pit stop for seagulls along the southeastern coast of Kefalonia

Island Life in the Slow Lane

Getting "all my ducks in a row" at Pessada harbor, Kefalonia

Since it is impossible to avoid reality all of the time, I've made a pact with self. Monday through Friday I'll worry about the problems of the Euro zone, the banking system's junk bond portfolio mess, the potential euro collapse, the price of gasoline, etc, etc, etc.

But when the weekend rolls around, I'll do a complete reset.

Armed with the usual gear plus lots of unfounded and reckless—but essential—optimism, I drive along familiar roads and tracks, stopping randomly at  favorite spots. The weather, so far, is my best ally and most reliable accomplice. These tiny escapes are instrumental in building the necessary stamina for the Mon–Fri stretch.

Soak up enough sunshine and you too can have all your ducks in a row!

Pessada, Kefalonia (Mt. Aenos in the background)

Floating on clear aqua-blue waters

Lazy days for everyone, basking in precious autumn sun

Life in the slow lane at Pessada, Kefalonia

Off-season calm at Spasmata Beach, Kefalonia

November serenity at Minies, Kefalonia

Succumbing to to the natural healing power of proximity to the sea (Agia Pelagia, Kefalonia)

Solar Tug-o-War

The sunset over Argostoli, Kefalonia

On opposite sides of the bay, each town does its best to perpetuate the legendary rivalry. And if Argostoli seems to have a tangible advantage—being the capital, and all—Lixouri has the absolute last word each and every day of the year.

The sun certainly does drench the capital with golden light as it goes down, but it is over Lixouri that it lingers and shows off before calling it a day.

That is the "western advantage."

The sunset over Lixouri, Kefalonia

Pursuit of Happiness in Turbulent Times

There are no two ways about it. The "Greek Crisis" lurks on everyone's mind, both in the country and abroad. 
Sheltered as we are here on the island—mainly due to the distance from Athens—it nevertheless weighs on our minds and daily life. 

November sunset at Avythos Beach, Kefalonia

It isn't within the scope of this blog to analyze the situation or offer an opinion on the turmoil that Greece is going through.
Of course we feel the strain.
Yes, it is depressing.
Sure, there is uncertainty—fear even—in contemplating the future.

But we truly are luckier than people in the rest of the country. At least, I feel that way. Blessed with so much beauty around me, I never fail to find a spot of total serenity, a place where I can let my worries dissolve like the gentle wave that breaks into soft white foam on the beach. Even if it's only for an instant.

Going back to basics, to the land, to reconnecting with friends, to reestablishing social bonds, to participating in traditional activities— that is all part of the plan to get from here to there in troubled times.

Who knows, maybe we will come out of this stronger, friendlier, healthier, and, happier in having discovered the substance of things and having reordered our priorities.

Though reserved, I'm optimistic.


Note:  I spent the last two days with friends at an olive grove (it's olive picking season). There was more genuine laughter, camaraderie and all around good fun than I've experienced in years. In coming posts, I'll share my little endeavors in the quest of bliss amidst troubled times.)

Winding Down the Season

Cruise Ship "Armonia" docked in Argostoli, Kefalonia

Only a few more arrivals till mid November...

Cruise season is coming to an end...

Though an October cruise in the Mediterranean is a hit or miss situation
due to weather instability, Wednesday's passengers were luckier than most...

Bright sunshine, clear skies, perfect temperatures...

Only three days after that horrid storm...

October is such a fraud!

Vessels of all sizes on the calm waters of Argostoli Bay

Ithaca: From Here to There and Back

If not for the brisk northwestern breeze blowing through the channel, the return journey from Ithaca to Kefalonia is uneventful.

Midway through crossing the channel, the eye wanders undecided. 
Left behind is the ultimate destination of dreams; ahead lies the overwhelming, massive floating rock that is home.

And the boat keeps shearing the water at a speed that leaves no time for regret, tilting a bit as the sea gets choppy.
 
As if to prepare you for the return to more familiar ground.

Ithaca outlined in the afternoon sky, with Kefalonia lurking in the background

Sailboats gliding between Kefalonia and Ithaca

Returning to Kefalonia with a northwestern breeze in the channel

And, without any undue guilt, as I mentioned when I started this blog, a mention of Captain Vangelis and his beautiful "Mythos" Glass Bottom Boat—the most gracious host on all my sea outings.

Thank you, Vangelis!

And, in case you missed the journey:
➥Ithaca Part I
➥Ithaca Part II
➥Ithaca Part III

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly? (Part III)

On the way to Kioni, Ithaca

The third leg of the journey is a visit to Kioni, the traditional seaside village tucked away in the northeastern shore of Ithaca. Windmills, small cottages, and tiny chapels come into view—perched on rocky land intrusions into the gleaming sea.

Kioni itself is not as "mood intensive" as Vathy, but with an aura of its own.

Quayside at Kioni, Ithaca

Attention grabbing elements at Kioni, Ithaca

One last stop before leaving Ithaca...
One last dip in the enticing, blue waters of Filiatro Beach...

Aqua-blue perfect Filiatro Beach, Ithaca

To be continued......
Not the posts, THE JOURNEY...

In case you missed previous posts in the series:
➥Ithaca Part I
➥Ithaca Part II

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly? (Part II)

The second leg of the journey is a stopover at Vathy, Ithaca's capital.
➥here's Part I, in case you missed it

St. Andrew's chapel at the entrance of Vathy Bay, Ithaca

The town is lazily sprawled along the inner horseshoe section of the deep, fjord-like bay.
A place to see and do a lot, or absolutely nothing.

Vathy, Ithaca

 It all depends on one's mood* (which is the key word in describing Vathy, to begin with).

Sailboats at Vathy, Ithaca

*note: I've been to Vathy at different times of the year and I find rainy spring or autumn days the most mood-definining and inspirational. I concede, though, that for most people a sunny day would be preferable!

Vathy Bay, Ithaca

The journey and the posts...
To be Continued...

Ithaca: Don't You Love Her Madly?

The only thing that beats being aboard a boat crossing the serene waters separating Kefalonia from Ithaca on a sunny September Sunday, is being on Ithaca .

1st stop: Gidaki Beach

Oh, how I had missed her!
So unpretentious, so soothing, so nostalgic, so vibrantly blue...

Testing the waters at Gidaki Beach

Gidaki Beach, Ithaca

Splash!

Diving from the deck at Gidaki Beach

Immersed in aqua-blue waters

Sailing from Gidaki Beach to Vathy, Ithaca

The journey and the posts...
To be Continued...

Peaceful Coexistence

Fiskardo, Kefalonia

Resisting the wiles of "cosmopolitan" Fiskardo is easier said than done.

The view of the huge, luxurious yachts that dock there is enough to bring out the paparazzi in anyone. Media tycoons, famous actors, filthy rich sheikhs from the Middle East, catwalk queens—each of the shiny big boats carries a "heavy load."

Though more fascinated by seagulls, sunsets, and crashing waves, I am tempted to slip on the long zoom lens and capture this glamor, style, and elegance. Fortunately, these thoughts go as fast as they come. 

So, I let myself drift to the other side of town, next to the ferry dock. Here, the yellow fishing nets and the sea-battered wooden hulls balance out any previously formed impressions. Because these elements are of equal significance. Besides, the dozens of sailing boats that carelessly slip in and out of the bay provide more action for the composition than the massive, but seemingly lifeless, figures of the floating palaces.

Yes, proportion is back.
From this angle, everything is in its right place.
Only Fiskardo could get away with this!

Lines, Circles, Reflections

Lixouri, Kefalonia

Fisheries in Argostoli Bay, Kefalonia

Argostoli Bridge Memorial, Kefalonia

Paths on water, shapes of fishery caging, and mirrored structures in morning light, on an otherwise uneventful return drive from Fiskardo to Argostoli.

Promises Are Made to Be Broken

Yes, I have succumbed to temptation...

Yes, I am in Fiskardo though it's way before October.

Yes, it's lovely!
No, I won't apologize!

Reaching out to touch Ithaca from Fiskardo

It all comes back to you the minute you step foot on this magical place: the narrow side streets; the houses with old world charm; the sailboat masts competing with the skyline; the perfectly tanned beautiful people on their afternoon walks; and the soft light that lingers as the sun sets on the other side of the island. And the incredibly musical sound of Italian spoken in all tones and dialects.

Yes, I will be back for the fishermen and their catch in a few months, but for now I'll savor this without undue guilt.


...more to come

see previous post
➥A SLIPPERY CHARACTER IN FISKARDO

Missing you, Ithaca

View of Ithaca with Kefalonia in the background

It has been almost a year since I've crossed the channel to  my "adopted" island—Ithaca. 
So compact, so picture perfect, so serene. 
So intense, without the pretense. 
A place to dream and daydream. 
To capture its light and aura with the senses before even attempting to capture it on camera. 
To sit back and watch while even mundane things, like sailboat masts, take on an unexpected significance in the muted dawn light. 

Yes, it's time...

Vathy, Ithaca