06 August 2026

My 40-year nostalgic search for
the Greek islands of the Odyssey,
from Crete to Corfu and Ithaca

The ‘Lily Prince’ in the Minoan Palace in Knossos … Odysseus repeatedly claims he is a Cretan prince from Knossos to hide his true identity on his return to Ithaka (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Ἀλλὰ καὶ ὧς ἐθέλω καὶ ἐέλδομαι ἤματα πάντα
οἴκαδέ τ' ἐλθέμεναι καὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι.
εἰ δ' αὖ τις ῥαίῃσι θεὸς ἐν οἴνοπι πόντῳ,
τλήσομαι ἐν στήθεσσιν ἔχων ἀτληθὲς θυμόν.

Nevertheless I long – I pine, all my days –
to travel home and see the dawn of my return.
And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea,
I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure.

The Odyssey (Book 5, lines 219-222)

Two of the deepest currents of thought running through The Odyssey are ξενία (xenia), the sacred code of hospitality and reciprocal courtesy shown to travellers, strangers and outsiders and the mutual duties of hosts and guests; and νόστος (nostos), homecoming and the longing for home.

In English, the word ‘xenophobia’ is a concept that runs contrary to all the core values found in ξενία (xenia) and in φιλοξενία (philoxenia), a concept that extends far beyond mere hospitality and that remains a shared value among Greeks today.

The word nostalgia is a 17th century compound derived from Greek. It consists of νόστος (nostos), a Homeric word meaning ‘homecoming’, and ἄλγος (álgos), ‘pain’. The word was coined by a medical student to describe the anxieties shown by Swiss mercenaries fighting away from home.

Both concepts in Greek explain how welcome I have felt in Greece for almost 40 years, year after year, and how wistful I feel, longing to return, when I am not there, as though Greece, and particularly Crete, was my second home.

I imagine a spin-off from Christopher Nolan’s box-office success, The Odyssey, is going to be a boost to tourism in Greece, as people seek out locations and settings that associated with the ten-year homeward journey of Odysseus.

Odysseus took 10 years to reach his home in Ithaka after the Trojan wars … a sailing boat in the harbour in Rethymnon after sunset

The three main islands associated with Odysseus are Ithaka, where he was king and which is the home he takes ten years to find his way back to, Kephallonia and Zakynthos.

Ithaki or Ithaca is his home in the Ionian Islands and the emotional core of the entire story. Zakynthos is one of the Ionian islands named in The Odyssey as part of the island world around Odysseus’s kingdom, and neighbouring Kefalonia is often linked with Homer’s Same.

I visited these three islands over the space of two years: Ithaka in 2003, Kephallonia (‘Captain Corelli’s island’) in 2002 and 2003, and Zakynthos in 2002. But that was almost 25 years ago, long before I had a digital camera or a phone with a camera on it, and all my photographs from those trips are inaccessible or lost.

Odysseus travels from Troy to Thrace, and then through the lands of the Lotus-Eaters, Cyclopes, Aeolus and Circe on his way home to Ithaka. Although they are named in The Odyssey, he never visits some of the Dodecanese islands I know, such as Rhodes, Symi and Kos, or Cycladic islands such as Santorini (Thera), although Syros in the Cyclades is identified with Syrie, the home of Eumaeus, Odysseus’ loyal swineherd.

The ancient theatre in Epidavros is one of the most perfect ancient Greek theatres (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

But there are other places in Greece – islands and on the mainland – that are parts of the Odyssey and that may get a boost in tourism figures because of the new film. Some places in the Odyssey are legendary, the subject of conjecture or a topic for debate.

Athena guides Odysseus on his return journey to Ithaka. She is basically the story’s behind-the-scenes operator, and Athens is where her presence is felt most today. Many places in the Peloponnese are part of the narrative, including places I have visited.

Sparti (Sparta), where I stayed in the Menaleon Hotel in 1996, when I was visiting Mystras, is where the Odyssey connects back to the Iliad and the fallout from the Trojan War through Menelaus and Helen. Telemachus visits Menelaus to hear what happened to the Greek heroes after Troy, and why the fate of Odysseus remained uncertain for so long, and he arrives in Pylos to find the local people making offerings to Poseidon by the sea.

The ancient theatre in Epidavros is one of the most perfect ancient Greek theatres in terms of its design and its acoustics. Epidaurus is described in the Iliad as ‘vine-clad Epidaurus’ and contributed along with Argos, Tiryns, Troezen and Ermioni to the Argolid fleet heading to Troy.

Looking out from Preveli Monastery in Crete towards the island of Gavdos, said to be the Ogygia of Calypso where Odysseus stayed for seven years (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Crete is connected to the Odyssey primarily as a place mentioned in the epic – specifically as a fictional origin story told by Odysseus, and in historical navigation theories that link real landmarks in Crete to the journey. In Homer’s text, Odysseus repeatedly invents elaborate backstories claiming he is a Cretan prince from Knossos to hide his true identity on his return to Ithaka.

People in Crete say the small of Gavdos is the Ogygia of Calypso, where Odysseus stayed for seven years with the nymph. I have often gazed out at Gavdos from the Monastery of Preveli above the palm forest that was severely damaged by the fires that swept across the Rethymnon region last week. Eventually, Odysseus spurned the offer of eternal life from Calypso and left Ogygia for his journey home

Paleochora, to the west of Preveli and on south-west coast of Crete, has been proposed as a landing point where winds pushed Odysseus off-course toward a small distinct coastal peninsula near Libya before heading back north.

The bay at Gramvousa … the small island off north-west Crete is identified the floating island of Aeolus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

After his adventure with Polyphemus, Odysseus continues his journey north. The historian Tim Severin and other historians convincingly identify the small island of Gramvousa off the north-west tip of Crete with the floating island of Aeolus. There, Odysseus waits for the right moment to continue his journey home.

Gramvousa is an island encircled by striking sheer cliffs that reflect a reddish-bronze hue at sunset, creating the illusion of towering bronze walls.

The ancient name for the island was ‘Korykos’, meaning ‘leather bag’. Notably, it was on the Isle of Aeolus where Odysseus used a magical leather bag.

In the ‘Blue Caves’ on the west coast of Paxos, identified with some scholars with the island of Circe (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Paxos in the Ionian islands is identified with some scholars with the island of Circe, a nature goddess. On leaving the island of Circe, he passes the small island of Antipaxos, southeast of Paxos.

After passing Antipaxos, Odysseus arrives at a spot where he has two choices: one route would take him past the dangerous Wandering Rocks, while the other would take him down a narrow channel with dangers on both sides – on one side, there was Scylla, the serpentine monster, while on the other was Charybdis, the sea monster that swallowed things like a whirlpool.

The explorer Tim Severin suggests the Ionian island of Lefkada or Levkas is the location for the Sirens, the Wandering Rocks, Scylla and Charybdis and the island of Helios’s cattle.

The main beach at Palaiokastritsa … Odysseus is said to have made his last stop there on his way home to Ithaka (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Corfu (Kerkyra), the most northerly of the Ionian Islands, is usually identified with Scheria, the land of the Phaeacians and the last destination of Odysseus in his 10-year journey home from Troy to Ithaki.

Although Corfu is not named directly, it has the kind of coastline that makes shipwreck scenes feel believable. Odysseus is washed up exhausted on the shores of Scheria, where King Alcinous and Princess Nausicaa offer hospitality to the weary hero and the Phaeacians provide him with a safe route back home to Ithaka.

Two small islets off the coast of Corfu claim links with the stories of Odysseus and shipwreck.

The Rock of Kolovri in the bay of Palaiokastritsa is said to be the petrified ship of Odysseus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Palaiokastritsa is on the north-west coast of Corfu, about 26 km from Corfu town and airport. The Rock of Kolovri in the bay is said to be the petrified ship of Odysseus, although similar legends are associated with Pontikonisi or ‘Mouse Island’ off Kanoni, near Corfu town.

The legend says that after the Phaeacians had safely helped Odysseus on the last leg of his journey home to Ithaka, they returned to Corfu. But the sea god Poseidon, angered that the Phaeacians had helped his rival, turned their vessel into stone, creating what is now Pontikonisi.

Although this story does not appear explicitly in Homer’s text, it is one of Corfu’s most enduring myths, and Pontikonisi or ‘Mouse Island’ is one of Corfu’s most recognisable landmarks. The tiny, cypress-covered islet sits at the entrance to the Halkiopoulos Lagoon, just south of Corfu Town and under the flight path of Corfu Airport.

Another, more practical explanation for the island’s name is that, when viewed from above, its shape resembles a small mouse – so giving us the Greek name Pontikonisi (Ποντικονήσι), meaning ‘Mouse Island.’

The islet of Pontikonisi, seen behind Vlachеrnа Covent … the Church of the Transfiguration is open to visitors only on 6 August (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Pontikonisi is one of the Corfu’s most photographed attractions, ALthough access is limited. Small boats take visitors to the islet during the tourist season, allowing them to explore the chapel and enjoy its tranquil setting among towering cypress trees.

Many visitors choose instead to admire Pontikonisi from the nearby islet of Panagia Vlacherna, home to the whitewashed 17th century convent with the elegant bell tower and waterfront setting that have made it the picture postcard emblem of Corfu.

At its centre of Pontikonisi, the Byzantine Church of Christ Pantokrator dates from the 11th or 12th century. The chapel is generally closed to the public throughout the year but it opens each year on this day, 6 August, the Feast of the Transfiguration, when many people make the short boat trip to attend the annual celebration.

How many of those pilgrims today thought they were following in the path of Odysseus on his ten-year journey home from Troy to Ithaka?

The Throne Room inside the Minoan palatial complex at Knossos … Odysseus repeatedly claims he is a Cretan prince from Knossos to hide his true identity on his return to Ithaka (Photograph: Patrick Comerford

Daily prayer in Ordinary Time 2026:
91, Thursday 6 August 2026,
The Transfiguration

The Transfiguration depicted in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó, in the hills above Hersonissos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford; click on image for full-screen viewing)

Patrick Comerford

We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and the week began with the Ninth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity IX, 2 August 2026). The Church Calendar today celebrates the Feast of the Transfiguration (6 August 2026).

Today also marks the 81sh anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945. To mark this anniversary later this evening, Charlotte and I plan to take part in the annual Hiroshima Day commemorations at the Japanese Peace Pagoda beside Willen Lake in Milton Keynes, a ceremony we have been attending for the past five years.

The Anglican Pacifist Fellowship and Christian CND are also marking Hiroshima Day with an online prayer vigil at 8 pm this evening, gathering to remember, pray and renew a shared commitment to peace. Coventry Cathedral is holding its annual Hiroshima Day Remembrance at 6 pm. The evening includes a reflection from CND General Secretary Sophie Bolt, Taiko drumming, an exchange of messages with Hiroshima, and a paper crane workshop.

I visited Hiroshima when I was a student in Japan in 1979, and for over 40 years I took part in Irish CND’s Hiroshima Day commemorations in Merrion Park, Dublin. During the day, I shall be remembering the many victims of the Hiroshima and the survivors, and praying for all who campaign for peace and an end to war throughout the world. But, before today begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:

1, today’s Gospel reading;

2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;

4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.

The Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó in the mountains above Hersonissos in Crete was established in 2002, completed in 2008 and dedicated in 2014 (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Luke 9: 28-36 (NRSVA):

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’ – not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

The Transfiguration (Metamorphosis) … an icon by Hanna-Leena Ward in her recent exhibition in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2026)

Today’s Reflection:

My mind is focussed this morning on the hoorrors of the Hiroshima bombing on 6 August 1945. I visited Hiroshima when I was on a student fellowship in Japan in 1979, and the sheer horror and terror I tapped into during that visit has never left me. And I continue to fret at the consequences of the world having ignored the lessons we should have learned from Hiroshima over the past 81 years.

In recent days, Trump has warned that the US is still ‘locked and loaded’ and prepared for ‘levels of Military Terror, Strength, and Power not seen since World War II’, that he is considering a massive attack’ on war that will be ‘bigger than ever before’, In other words, in his wicked and vile moments, does he thinks it is his right – please take some moments to ponder this – to threaten to unleash terror that is greater than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Does he mean even greater than the Holocaust?

But ever since my visit to Hiroshima, for me, the bright light that vaporised the city and hundreds of thousands of people on 6 August 1945 has been in shap contrast to the hope offered by the Transfiguration, a feast celebrated each year on 6 August.

During my recent return visits to Crete, staying in Rethymnon for the Greek celebrations of Easter, I have also returned to the village of Piskopianó in the hillside above Hersonissos, which I have known for more than 30 years, since the mid-1990s.

The new village church in Piskopianó, which has been renamed the Church of the Transfiguration, was built in 2002-2008 and was dedicated in 2014. A fresco of the Transfiguration in the church shows, on the left, Christ leading the three disciples, Peter, James and John, up the mountain; in the centre, these three disciples are stumbling and falling as they witness and experience the Transfiguration; and then, to the right, Christ is leading these three back down the side of the mountain.

In other words, we are invited to see the Transfiguration not as a static moment but as a dynamic event. It is a living event in which we are invited to move from all in the past that weighs us down, to experience the full life that Christ offers us today, and to bring this into how we live our lives as Disciples in the future, a future that begins here and now.

The Transfiguration is both an event and a process. The original Greek word for Transfiguration in the Gospels is μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis), which means ‘to progress from one state of being to another.’ Consider the metamorphosis of the chrysalis into the butterfly. Saint Paul uses the same word (μεταμόρφωσις) when he describes how the Christian is to be transfigured, transformed, into the image of Christ (II Corinthians 3: 18).

This metamorphosis invites us into the event of becoming what we have been created to be. This is what Orthodox writers call deification. Transfiguration is a profound change, by God, in Christ, through the Spirit. And so, the Transfiguration reveals to us our ultimate destiny as Christians, the ultimate destiny of all people and all creation – to be transformed and glorified by the majestic splendour of God himself.

The Transfiguration points to Christ’s great and glorious Second Coming and the fulfilment of the Kingdom of God, when all of creation shall be transfigured and filled with light.

According to Saint Gregory Palamas, the light of the Transfiguration ‘is not something that comes to be and then vanishes.’ It not only prefigures the eternal blessedness that all Christians look forward to, but also the Kingdom of God already revealed, realised and come.

The Transfiguration is described in the three Synoptic Gospels (see Matthew 17: 1-9; Mark 9: 2-8; Luke 9: 28-36), and all three accounts are very similar in wording.

The Transfiguration is an encounter with God as the Trinity; it is a reminder with the presence of Moses and Elijah that Christ is the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets; it is a meeting of past, present and future; and it is a reminder of how frail is our humanity in the responses of the three Disciples present, Peter, James and John.

The Transfiguration is a reminder that God has created us in God’s image and likeness, that in Christ’s Incarnation, God took on our image and likeness, and that now we are called once again to take on the image and likeness of God.

In a lecture in Cambridge many years ago [2011], I heard the late Metropolitan Kallistos [Ware], who was the pre-eminent Orthodox theologian in England, speak of the Transfiguration as a disclosure not only of what God is but of what we are. It reminds us of our beginning, but also reminds us of the possibilities and the potentials of what it is to become like God once again.

But is the response of the disciples to the Transfiguration one that we should imitate or emulate?

As they hear the voice of God, they fall down in terror, they are overcome by fear, they are made speechless.

They are immobilised and when they think of acting, look at what they want to do: they want to put up three booths, or tents, or dwelling places, in which they can keep Jesus and Moses and Elijah. It is as if, frightened of the new, they want to fall back on the old certainties.

It is as if they want to contain God, to capture God, to keep God in a place where they can be assured of the old certainties, to turn God into a god that they can contain, capture and control. They want to put God in a box, to keep God in a box.

And, so often, instead of wanting to be in the image and likeness of God, people want God to be in our image and likeness, doing our bidding rather than listening to what God wants of us.

Seeking to capture God, to make God a captive and to control God, are strong religious instincts throughout history. In the 20th century, Hitler used the German Churches to control the people of Germany. In more recent years, the simple faith of many American people has been hijacked to support extreme politics in a land that once prided itself on the separation of state and religion.

This is what Professor Rachel S Mikva of Chicago Theological Seminary describes as ‘dangerous religious ideas’ (Dangerous Religious Ideas: The Deep Roots of Self-Critical Faith in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Penguin, 2020).

In an ‘Opinion’ column for USA Today in the wake of Donald Trump’s attempt to storm the Capitol in Washington on 6 January 2021, she argued that ‘Religion is a dangerous business.’ In the response to the insurrection and violence in Washington, she tried to go beyond the revulsion all of us must feel when white Christian nationalism turns violent, and she drew attention to the ‘substantial number of Christians who plan to take the country for Jesus another way.’

The Christian right is ‘distorting the very meaning of religious freedom,’ she wrote. There is the obvious danger we have seen recently, with extremists who call themselves Christians ‘ready to bring on the apocalypse.’

But she warns of ‘a more resilient threat’ posed by people who claim the mantle of being Christians and who are ‘embedded throughout the governing institutions in the US – courts, military, legislatures, agencies and the police.’ In her words, they pose a real threat ‘to religious pluralism in the United States.’

She argued cogently for the need for ‘consciousness of the vital self-critical dimensions of faith,’ and said: ‘Whatever one’s spiritual life stance, we are choosing in every moment whether its power will be wielded for harm or for blessing.’

Power for harm; or power for blessing.

Do we want to keep God in a box as a power for harm; or do we really want to see God being God, and empowering us to be a power for blessing in the world?

I see this as the first great challenge posed by the Transfiguration.

And the second is like unto it: to see humanity as Christ in the Transfiguration would see us and would have us see each other.

Do I, so often, put people in a box in a way that denies they are made in the image and likeness of God? That they are called to become, once again, like God in Christ … what the Orthodox call ‘deification’ …?

Every time I dismiss someone because of their social background, where they were born, their gender, sexuality, ethnicity or parentage, I am making these differences more important than the way God sees them: made in God’s image and likeness, and holding, embodying the light of God in Christ.

Because those characteristics, those traits, are not self-chosen; they come at birth, we do not ask for them, you might say they are God-given. For, indeed, God sees us in God’s own image and likeness, God sees in each one of us the potential to reflect the light of Christ in the Transfiguration.

Let’s not box God in, hidden away under a booth or in a tent. Let God be God, and let’s stop trying to control him by using him to our political and social advantage.

Let’s stop categorising people so we marginalise them instead of seeing them in God’s image and likeness.

For, when we love God and love others, we see the light of God in them and, hopefully, they see the light of God in us.

When she was the guest chaplain in the House of Representatives in 1995, Rabbi Rachel Mikva included these thoughts in her prayers:

However passionately we may cling to our vision of truth,
we must never fail to recognise your image, God,
reflected in the face of the other …

Ultimately, we stand before you,
naked of power or possessions,
seeking only to understand your will
and do it with a whole heart …

God, we pray that our words and our deeds
may be for Your sake,
bringing healing to our world
and wholeness to all those whose lives we touch.

Amen. אָמֵן׃

The Transfiguration … an icon in the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 6 August 2026, The Transfiguration):

In Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), the theme this week (2-8 August 2026, pp 24-25), is ‘Faith Under Pressure in Nicaragua’. This theme was introduced on Sunday with a Reflection by the Most Revd Juan David Alvarado, Bishop of El Salvador and Primate of the Province of the Anglican Church in Central America.

The USPG prayer diary today (Thursday 6 August 2026) invites us to pray:

Almighty God, in the Transfiguration you revealed Christ’s glory to his disciples. Strengthen us as your Church to hear your voice, bear our cross, and reflect your light in the world.

An icon of the Transfiguration in the Church of the Transfiguration in Piskopianó (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The Collect:

Father in heaven,
whose Son Jesus Christ was wonderfully transfigured
before chosen witnesses upon the holy mountain,
and spoke of the exodus he would accomplish at Jerusalem:
give us strength so to hear his voice and bear our cross
that in the world to come we may see him as he is;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post Communion Prayer:

Holy God,
we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ:
may we who are partakers at his table
reflect his life in word and deed,
that all the world may know his power to change and save.
This we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The chapel on the highest peak on Mount Athos, at 2,033 metres, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Yesterday’s reflections

Continued tomorrow

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The Monastery of Great Meteoro, the largest of the monasteries at Meteora, is dedicated to the Transfiguration (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)