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

Seven Last Words (2): ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise’

Blue skies, golden sands and turquoise waters in bay on the Greek island of Antipaxos … what is your image of Paradise? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

Good Friday, 10 April 2020

2, Luke 23: 43

Reading: Luke 23: 39-43.

The words: ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

Reflection: (2) Salvation

The Deposition of Christ from the Cross … a painting in Valencia Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

This saying, the second of the seven last words of Christ on the Cross, is traditionally called ‘The Word of Salvation.’ According to Saint Luke’s Gospel, Jesus was crucified between two thieves. One of these two thieves realises that Christ is innocent and calls on him to remember him when he comes into his kingdom.

Christ replies to the Good Thief: ‘Truly, I say to you …,’ or ‘Amen, I say to you …’ (Αμήν λέγω σοί, amen legō soi), and then, on the only occasion recorded in the Gospels, he uses the word ‘Paradise’ (Παράδεισος, Paradeisōs), from the Persian word pairidaeza, meaning a ‘walled garden,’ and by extension, a ‘royal park’ or enclosure.

There are only two other uses of the word Paradise in the New Testament, neither of which is spoken by Christ:

The first is in the Second Letter to the Corinthians, when the Apostle Paul gives a description of how ‘a certain person’ – perhaps Saint Paul himself – ‘was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat’ (II Corinthians 12: 4).

The second is by Saint John the Divine in his Letter to the Church in Ephesus in the Book of Revelation, when Christ says: ‘To everyone who conquers, I will give permission to eat from the tree of life that is in the paradise of God’ (Revelation 2: 7).

In listening to the Word of God, Saint Paul is caught up into a vision of Paradise.

In listening to the Word of God in the cave in Patmos, Saint John has a vision of Paradise as a taste of God’s promises.

In speaking this ‘Word of Salvation’ from the Cross, Christ is inviting the penitent thief to join him in the royal enclosure.

And he invites you and me, in Word and Sacrament, into the Royal Enclosure too. Not to look back to the Garden of Eden, but to look forward to the heavenly city, to join the heavenly host before the Lamb on the throne.

Paradise on Sandford Street, Lichfield … but have you ever had a glimpse of Paradise? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Have you ever had a glimpse of Paradise?

I know a pub on Sandford Street in Lichfield that is called Paradise, and a tavern called Paradise in Georgioupoli in Crete. But they are not the sort of places I am talking about.

I have a few favourite places that offer me glimpses of what I dream Paradise might be like: I snatch these glimpses walking the beaches in Co Kerry I have got to know in these two years here in this parish; strolling around the Cathedral Close in Lichfield at night, when the lights are out, beneath the star-filled skies; travelling by train along the banks of the River Slaney from Enniscorthy down to Wexford Harbour; on the bus from Iráklion to Rethymnon in Crete, as the sun is about the set behind the Venetian fortezza; the road down the Knockmealdown Mountains that descends from Mount Melleray to Cappoquin, and then passes along the banks of the Blackwater to Lismore.

Have you ever had a glimpse of Paradise?

I don’t mean to ask did you ever have a mystical vision, like that reported by Saint Paul, or those described by Saint Teresa of Avila or Saint John of the Cross.

I mean did you ever have a glimpse of what God’s promise might be like for you?

I know of at least three places that actually have the name Paradise.

The Byzantine Church of Aghios Pandeleímon … next to the Paradise Taverna near Kastélli in the mountains above Iráklion

The first of these three places named Paradise is on the Greek island of Crete. Many years ago, on one of our many, lengthy holidays in Crete, we drove up to Kastélli, in the mountains above Iráklion, when we came across a sign pointing down a dirt track with the words: ‘Byzantine Church and Paradise.’

The route passes through vast orchards and a densely vegetated landscape. But the Paradise we were being pointed to is the Paradise Taverna, which is run by the eccentric Nikolaides family. But the family also holds the keys to the Byzantine Church of Aghios Pandeleímon dating back to the tenth century, with powerful frescoes.

Over the centuries, the monastery has been destroyed several times by pirate raiders and by the Turks. In more recent years, there has only been one monk at the most living in Aghios Pandeleímon.

When we arrived, we found it was up to the Nikolaides family at the Paradise Taverna to decide who could or who could not enter the church. They may not have had the keys to Paradise, but they certainly had the keys to the basilica. And we were allowed in that hot summer’s morning.

Inside, there are unusual icons of Saint Anne mothering the Child Mary, Mary who would mother the Christ Child and mourn the Christ who is taken down from the Cross on Good Friday.

One of the notable surviving frescoes from the same monastery is one of the Αποκαθήλωσις (Apokathelosis). This is a traditional representation of the dead Christ in Orthodox iconography. And it was a timely reminder in that shaded garden café on that summer’s day of the link between the death of Christ and our invitation to Paradise, the royal garden.

The Gates of Paradise in Cambridge at Owlstone Croft, once known as Paradise Garden and now part of Queens’ College (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The second of these three places named Paradise is in Cambridge. On the north bank of the River Cam as it enters the city, Paradise is a small, low-lying nature reserve that includes Paradise Island.

This fragment of semi-natural habitat was once a common on the margins of Cambridge. Because it is still on the flood plain of the Cam, large parts of Paradise are frequently under water during winter, turning it into a wet and muddy wood. But this also guarantees that Paradise is safe from building development.

Extensive work was carried out on Paradise Nature Reserve a few years ago, so that over-hanging trees were cleared from the footpaths, making access to the site unimpeded. Pollarding and coppicing – forms of pruning that allow regenerative growth – have increased the potential life span of the willows in Paradise, and in recent years 50 hazel whips were planted along with a rural hedgerow.

Paradise in Cambridge is a reminder that we are entrusted with the care of God’s creation, that we are co-partners with God in creation, but have responsibility for how we take care of his garden.

Swimming is a pleasure in the clean, clear, aquamarine waters at Lost Paradise Beach, with sand that seems to stretch for miles out into the sea (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

The third Paradise I know is a small sandy beach with blue waters and the delightful name of ‘Lost Paradise,’ below an hotel near Kuşadasi in western Turkey where we stayed for a week or two, on two holidays some years ago.

A steep path behind the Palmin Sunset Hotel leads down to the small beach known as Kayip Cennet or Lost Paradise. The path is tough and difficult for anyone with my health problems, but the reward is wonderful, and I would have to be wallowing in self-pity not to want to walk down to this beach. One afternoon there ten years ago (16 August 2010), when the temperatures were in the high 30s each day, hovering between 37 and 39 into the afternoon, I started reading Janet Soskice’s Sisters of Sinai. This is her account of Scottish twin sisters who lived in Cambridge and their discovery of an early copy of the Four Gospels in Saint Catherine’s Monastery in Mount Sinai.

This is an historical work by the Professor of Philosophical Theology at Cambridge. But she writes with the pace of a first-class novelist, and the book is full of people and places I know and delight in – from Cambridge to Greece, Turkey and the Middle East, and there are even people I have met, including Father Justin, who once welcomed me to the Library in Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai.

I could have sat there all day on Lost Paradise, reading this book. But I was also tempted constantly to take breaks to swim in the clean, clear, aquamarine water, with sand beneath that seems to stretch for miles out into the sea.

These three Paradises have been gifts to me. They have given me glimpses of God’s promises to me. If I have enjoyed them so much, I have been so appreciative of the gifts God gives me in his creation, if I have felt so welcome in God’s enclosure, if I have had a foretaste of the promises of Paradise, then I can only describe them for you in inadequate snapshots, in words that cannot give you the experience, but only give you a glimpse, a taste of ‘things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat.’

Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you spoke in love to the thief
who asked to be remembered in your kingdom;
Speak the words of eternal life
to all who are sincerely penitent,
with the assurance of being with you in Paradise,
for your mercy’s sake. Amen.

Paradise Taverna in Georgioupoli in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is priest-in-charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This is the second of seven reflections on ‘the Seven Last Words’ prepared for Good Friday, 10 April 2020.

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Island hopping from Corfu to Antipaxos and Paxos in the Ionian Sea

The harbour of Gaios, the main port on the east coat of Paxos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Patrick Comerford

‘Island Hopping’ is one of the popular images of a holiday in the sun in Greece. This is more difficult on a holiday in Crete, which has a small number of offshore islands but is not part of an extended archipelago.

Island hopping is more adventurous from other bases, such as the Dodecanese in the eastern Aegean, the Cyclades, which include Santorini and Mykonos, and the Ionian Islands off the western coast of mainland Greece.

On previous visits to this part of Greece, I have enjoyed island hopping in the southern parts of the Ionian Islands, travelling between Zakynthos, Kephalonia and Ithaki. But during these two weeks which I am spending in Corfu, I have also spent a day visiting the paired islands of Paxos and Antipaxos.

Together, Paxos or Paxi and Antipaxos or Antipaxoi (Παξοί και Αντίπαξοι) together form the smallest island group in the Ionian Islands, and their collective name in Greek is a plural form. Until local government reforms in 2006, the province of Paxoi (Επαρχία Παξών), including Paxos and Antipaxos, was one of the provinces in the Corfu Prefecture. But this was abolished in 2006.

Today, these islands together form the municipality of Paxoi, which has an area of 30,121 sq km. Paxos is the largest of the islands, with a surface area of 76 sq km or just under 30 square miles. It is about 13 km long, 5 km wide and tipped up towards the west.

In Greek mythology, Poseidon created the island of Paxos by striking Corfu with his trident, making a place of peace and quiet for himself and his wife Amphitrite.

Paxos may have been inhabited from prehistoric times, but the Phoenicians are the first recorded settlers on the island. The name of Paxos is said to be derived from Pax, referring to the trapezoidal shape of the island.

The Battle of Paxos was fought between the ancient Greek and Illyrian fleets during the First Illyrian War in 229 BC. The battle is described by Polybius, the Greek historian of the Hellenistic period, whose great work The Histories covered the period of 264 BC to 146 BC (see The Histories, Book 2, Chapter 2).

The Romans ruled Paxos from the second century BC. Paxos was constantly attacked by pirates during the Byzantine period and well into the Middle Ages. After various rulers and the Crusaders had passed through Paxos, the island was captured by the Venetians at the end of the 14th century, and remained a part of the Venetian empire for about four centuries.

During the Napoleonic wars, the Ionian Islands were captured first by the French and then by a Russian-Ottoman alliance. On 13 February 1814, the island of Paxos surrendered to the British naval frigate HMS Apollo commanded by Captain Charles Taylor and a combined force of 160 troops from the 2nd Greek Light Infantry from Kephalonia and the 35th Regiment of the Royal Corsican Rangers.

When Britain established the Ionian Union in 1815, both Paxos and Antipaxos became part of the new political administration. Half a century later, in 1864, Paxos and Antipaxos, along with the other Ionian Islands, including Kephalonia, Zakynthos, Ithaki and Lefkhada, were ceded to Greece and became part of the modern Greek state.

In the ‘Blue Caves’ on the west coast of Paxos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

The first stop on the ‘island-hopping’ boat trip was on the west coast, which is dominated by steep white, chalky cliffs that are greatly eroded at sea level, and to visit some of the many ‘blue caves’ that are explored every day by the small boats from Corfu.

We then sailed down the west coast of Paxos to neighbouring Antipaxos (Αντίπαξος), a small island covering 5 sq km, about 3 km south of Paxos and with a tiny population of 20.

Antipaxos is known for its wine and two of the finest sandy beaches in the Ionian Sea. This tiny island is largely covered in vineyards, and has several beaches and one harbour, Agrapidia. The three main beaches are Vrika (white sand), Mesovrika (pebbles) and Voutoumi (pebbles).

After swimming in the clear blue and turquoise waters of a small cove south of Voutoumi on the north-east side of the island, it was a 15-minute journey to Gaios, the main port and harbour in Paxos.

A small quiet cove south of Voutoumi on the north-east side of Antipaxos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Paxos, with a population of about 2,500, remains one of the least commercial Islands in the Ionian Sea and is truly beautiful, with scenery that has made it an artists’ paradise, with clear aquamarine sea and pebble beaches that have to be seen to be believed.

Olive oil, soap and fishing were the main economic activities until they were supplanted by tourism in the mid-1960s. This brought a building boom that has greatly changed the coastline around Gaios.

Although Gaios is largest town on the island, it is still relatively small and quaint with Venetian architecture, a maze of side streets and a pedestrianised square on the seafront.

The bell-tower of a church in the narrow streets of Gaios (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Restaurants and snack bars are scattered throughout the town, offering a high standard of local Greek cuisine, and the facilities include two book shops, a post office, banks, chemist, doctor’s surgery, gift shops, gymnasium, jewellery and craft shops, as well as supermarkets, bakeries and butchers, and a range of waterfront bars.

Semi-permanent British inhabitants of Paxos have included Audrey Good, former commander of the UN refugee bases in Epirus following the Greek Civil War; the late actor Peter Bull (author of It isn’t all Greek to me); and the actor Susannah York.

Some members of the Agnelli family of FIAT have built a palatial holiday home – complete with a faux mediaeval tower – on the small island of Kaltonisi near the southern tip or heel of Paxos, close to the popular beach of Mongonissi.

These arrivals and the development of the coastal area, mostly by Italians, are said to have made Paxos one of the most expensive places in Greece to buy property.

Ferries, hydrofoils, small boats and sea taxis arrive constantly throughout the day at the port of Gaios. But they leave in the late afternoon, and once again Gaios becomes a picture-postcard Greek harbour town.

But as we sailed out of Gaios in the afternoon sun, we could see that much of the landscape of Paxos is still covered in olive groves that stretch from Gaios through Magazia to Lakka, the harbour community in the north.

We were back in Mesongi on the east coast of Corfu late in the afternoon, and from there returned to Agios Georgios.

Arcaded shops off the main square of Gaios in Paxos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)