Why Wander Odysseus, Why? Doh!

Still here,

Just had a few things on that's all, some semblance of normal service has now been restored, although a quick glance at the calendar confirms that there isn't much free time remaining this month either.

and yes, we've been away again, and the requisite report now follows, so if you only visited this house in search of enlightenment regarding chalk stream management or guidance in catching trout off the top, then on this occasion you will be disappointed,

Which is par for the course if we're honest,

Anyway, to the substance

On this year of years, and with the eye as ever on "Living for Pleasure Alone" we've been away again.

Cephalonia this time,

Inspired by all things Corelli (the brilliant book, not the dreadful film adaptation) it had been on the list of places to visit for a while and so it was that we set off in the early hours for Gatwick, keenly anticipating our first experience of the newly opened smart M3 motorway after many years of road works and average speed limits.

Unfortunately Smart motorways need at least eight hours sleep at night (who knew?) and the thing was closed from ten till six, so it was another "seat of your pants" hurtling along little roads in the hours before dawn trip to catch a plane at Gatwick.

Well done the roads of South East England, well done!

Into Argostoli and an hour drive over the mountains to the village of Agia Efimia, a onetime fishing village and a small community that now plays host to a well heeled yachting set from many nations, numerous Italian pedestrians and the occasional riverkeeper with spouse.

The heat was in the high thirties and after a brief pause for Mythos and cheese we hit the beach,

Which is where we remained for much of the week,

Each morning we woke to the sounds of goats with bells being herded up the adjacent hill, contemplated visiting somewhere in the morning, but ultimately opting for the beach as the Celsius count breached thirty by the middle of the morning.

We did visit the spectacular caves and the subterranean lakes which are a feature of this lump of limestone and are comfortably cool.

The whole island receives its water supply via a groundwater resource that is amply replenished by rain in the mountains that rise to five thousand feet, it is a surprisingly verdant island quenched by cycles of convectional rainfall




the theory of which confused our main man at command centre central a few years ago - it's on here here somewhere but here's a picture to be going on with

We experienced heavy rain on three occasions during our eight day stay.


The Melissani Cave system is an underground limestone river that could quite easily support a population of trout. The water temperature is a constant fifteen degrees and is slightly brackish due to its proximity to the sea, it supports a population of eels and the odd mullet and there were a few flies on the water. I did make enquiries about popping a few Rainbows in and offering guided fishing, although for overhanging branches claiming poorly presented flies read overhanging stalactites.

It is a spectacular setting and contains remains from prehistory on the river bed, along with offerings to the goddess Pan regarding uncoordinated dancing on Top of the Pops during the 1970's.

On from the caves, is the Port of Sami, which serves as a gateway to the island of Ithaca, home of Odysseus and another island to tick off one day. It's all about the ferry and the port in Sami and the contrast between a local population living a sustainable life on this isle and its well heeled visitors is particularly stark.

Myrtos beach next, a stunning location that regularly crops up in newspapers and magazines as one of Europe's beaches to take a look at. The drive down to the mile wide expanse of bright white shingle is a little hairy but the hundreds of feet high cliffs adorned with many goats (clappers removed) provide a stunning backdrop to a beach that borders the bluest of seas. It was the setting for the blowing up of the mine in the facsimile of a sham that was the film of Captain Corelli (there was a trilogy to be had from the one book alone) and on each of our many visits was never crowded.

Kicking back on any beach in Cephalonia the eye is drawn to an obvious line on rocks two feet above the water. It is a remnant of the 1953 earthquake, when four major shocks of over seven on the Richter scale between nine and eleven in the morning raised over ninety percent of the island's buildings to the ground. Fiskardo at the northern tip of the island was the only town to escape relatively unscathed. The whole island rose two feet, hence the water line on the shoreline rocks. As a result of the devastation a significant proportion of the island's population were forced to emigrate, principally to Australia and Canada.

It remains a point of chronological reference for many on the island with much referred to as "pre" or "post" earthquake.

And then we headed off up the straits of Ithaca for a day in a boat to the many beaches that are only accessible by sea.

I don't know why Ithaca's favourite son Odysseus went off a wandering because this corner of the island is a quiet piece of paradise.

For four hours Madam and myself enjoyed our own private beach and while Madam Crusoe read books,

I established "Man Friday" credentials by hopping on sand and worrying the local wildlife, principally the local the wrasse population, although it was bream I was after bothering.

More beach followed and yes, I did lap up all things Louis De B during our stay. We ate some superb Greek food, and I do seem to have punished the Rabbit Stifado somewhat. The Ribola was Ok and the Mythos following rigorous testing, was declared as good as it ever was.

We didn't get to climb Mount Aenos as we had initially intended, but we did see a Pine Martin, albeit dead on the road (wither poor Psipsina)

The drive back over the mountains was spectacular and we paused briefly to take in the view of Argostoli and Luxouri and doff our caps to the bones of St Gerasimos, before heading for the tiny airport that serves this tremendous Ionian Isle,

I don't know what the roads were like around the ancient city of Athens, but back in Blighty and what some would have as one of the greatest cities of the modern world, the M25 and the oh so clever new M3 were bunged up so it was the back lanes home from Gatwick again.

Note to Self: Two thousand words on why the road network of the South East no longer functions as originally intended and internet connection on an isolated Ionian Isle is fifty times faster than our own at home forty miles from previously mentioned claimant to greatest city on planet earth.

A terrific trip (bar the roads of England)

Further fishing stuff to follow