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Living the Ithacan Dream for Lesa Carnegie
Sunday 1 April 2007
Hi Erika Favourite place on Ithaca ???  that's a tough one !!!  I do really like Dexa beach, there's just something special about it, I really can imagine Odysseus returning to his beloved Ithaca there.  I like it late afternoon, when the shadows fall and the goats come down from the hills and clamber over the rocks !  I was also very taken with the Cave of the Nymphs, the utter simplicity and lack of development amazes me.   And then I like sitting outside the Kafeneon in the square at Vathy, at the end of a long day, with a cold beer.  And dinner at Bouzo's, or the open air restaurant on the side street with the blue chairs run by an elderly Greek couple and their son ( I think ). And then round the harbour for a drink in Mylos, and a nightcap with Spiros in Karamela on the way home .... That sounds like a perfect day to me.  Lucky you, if you get to live my daydream ! I'll look forward to the pictures. Thanks again for the wonderful site, and Happy Easter to you all. Lesa x
 
 

Dexa beach

 
 
Dexa Cantina
 
 

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The sun glistens on the bay and the olive branches sway in a gentle breeze.
 
 
 
After Dexa Beach we head into the mountains to the Nymphs Cave, set high up over Dexa Bay amongst wild flowers, cypress and olive trees. The late afternoon sun throws black shadows over the mountain sides, but in the distance, the golden rays of the sun still light up the bay.
During the Summer, Dexa beach is a popular spot in the south of Ithaca. In March, not even a goat.
 
 
 
 
 
The Cave of the Nymphs
The hillsides around the Nymphs Cave, covered in wild flowers
 
 
 
 
 
 
Late afternoons in March are quite different to those in Summer. The streets are quiet, there are no yachts sailing into the harbour, barely a tourist to be seen. There's nothing buzzing other than a bee lost on the sidewalk and Spiro from Karamela, enjoying a frappe with a friend.
 
 
 
 
 
At Mylos Creperie, the lights are out. Niko is still in the middle of his afternoon nap, dreaming of his forthcoming wedding to Viki, selecting ties and suits in his dreams.
 
 
The old fishing boat in the harbour, anchored there in the afternoons, year in year out, looks the same. Maybe a little more rusty, the colours a little more faded, but there, faithfully waiting for the next run out to sea.
 
Ithaca waits for Lesa Carnegie to return, to live her dream in person.
 
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