My book about European travel is for people who have graduated from staying in hostels with 6 to a room and hitch-hiking through the Alps. It was published this year. For information about it, check “My Books and Writing” here on my web site.

For pictures and commentary about our most recent trip to Greece and Italy, click here. You will be hurled through cyberspace to a link on Dick’s web site. When you finish, don’t tarry with him, but come on back. You still haven’t seen everything here.

One of our favorite places is the Greek island of Mykonos. The first time we visited, we meant to stay two days. After our first night there, we canceled our plans to head for our beloved Paris and blissfully spent the next two weeks on Mykonos. The following piece is my impression of that little island.

 

A Shelter For Apollo


The ancient Greeks loved the light and hated the darkness. It was natural that they saw Apollo, the youngest, the fairest of their gods, as the God of Light.

Throughout the decline of the glory that was Greece, there were still those who worshiped Apollo. In 362 A.D., After the Roman conquest of Greece, the Emperor Julian visited Apollo's oracle at Delphi and asked how he might serve the god.

History says the oracle relied, "Tell the king the fair-wrought house has fallen. No shelter has Apollo...the voice is stilled."

The oracle was wrong. On the island of Mykonos, Apollo lingers, even now.
He shines pure and bright in the morning, rising in a golden ball and racing joyfully across the sea.
He caresses the ancient rocks and startles the marigolds and hibiscus and bougainvillea into bursts of glorious color.
He tumbles over white-washed houses and flashes, laughing, from dark eyes.
When the day grows short, his farewell is mellow, golden, bathing all he touches with beauty.
As he departs, he splashes vibrant colors across the sky and the sea.

The Greeks have always known that Apollo is more than the light. Apollo is he who makes things clear. Nowhere is that more plain than in Mykonos.
With long, unhurried days of surrender to the sun, the sea, the island itself, life becomes simpler.
The ancient Greek maxim, "Know thyself," begins to seem possible.
Here, Apollo has found shelter.

Take the journey to far-away Mykonos and enter a place that will live in your heart long after you have departed its shores. Go for the light and the clarity and the memories.

You will remember the sights of Mykonos:
The sparkling white chapels and the houses, eloquent in their simplicity, basking in the sun,
Blue, ever-present in the sky, the doorways and the endless variety of the sea
The stark, timeless windmills, turning slowly above the town
And colorful fishing boats, bobbing at anchor as dusk falls and lights appear.


You will remember the sounds of Mykonos:
The rush and whisper of the sea
The purr of a cat, stretching in the sun
The night-softened music from a taverna a block away, and

The mournful horn of a ship, leaving the harbor and slipping into the deep blackness that awaits.


You will remember the tastes of Mykonos:
The first bite of a still-warm pastry from a bakery hidden on a side street,
A yellow melon called pepita, ripe and sweet, with its juice of pure nectar,
The sharp, raw taste of retsina burning your throat and
On your lips, the salty taste of the sea.

You will remember the faces of Mykonos:
The gentle, patient face of the man who sells flowers from the baskets his donkey carries,
The bearded face of the grocer, with its jovial warmth,
The strong faces of women, sitting at their doorways in the evening,
The trusting faces of children, eyes full of innocence, and
In the mirror, a face grown softer, touched by Apollo's light.