AT FIRST blush, the more glutinous aspects of the sea slug’s sex life — the
bizarre genitals, the mucus — are strange things to find yourself discussing
over lunch.
We, a dozen or so British tourists, had signed up for Jamie’s Marine
Adventure, a day of snorkelling and marine biology in the warm blue waters
between Cephalonia and Ithaca. After sailing out of Fiskardo harbour and a
gentle morning being shown the wonders of the deep — well, the shallow — in
uninhabited coves we sat in the shade on the caique at anchor to eat a
lavish picnic lunch while Jamie Stirling told us about the creatures he had
captured and put in his Perspex tank — starfish, octopus, three colours of
sea urchins, and the sea slugs.
Stirling is a marine biologist from England who has settled in Cephalonia for
the past six years. He talks about his science with delightful enthusiasm.
Despite the sea slug — a creature even less alluring than the bearded men on
the boat who had smeared Vaseline over their whiskers to get a decent seal
for their face masks — Jamie’s Marine Adventure is a hoot and recommended
for any family with juveniles of any age. And what with all the gastro,
cephalo and pod in the scientific names, it is a cheery way to
pick up a few words of Greek as well.
It was probably the most energetic thing we did in our week on Cephalonia. The
island is ruggedly grand, with stupendous coastal roads and delicious
beaches, but we spent most of our time in peaceful seclusion at our villa,
the Olive Grove, a five-minute drive from pretty Fiskardo — a typical Ionian
port in the Venetian style — and the shops, just sprawling by the pool,
sunbathing, swimming, reading, and planning meals.
We would have been quite happy to move in permanently. The villa, a
19th-century farmhouse complex, has been modernised to a comfortable, but
not excessive, level of artless luxury. There are lots of attractive
details: a vast beamed living room, the original worn marble sinks, an oar
fastened to a wall as a banister, here and there enigmatic bits of wrought
iron, blackened wood and basketwork, relics from pre-electrical cooking and
smallholding. Two shady terraces gaze down across the small pool and a
hillside of olives to the sea and Ithaca.
A few minutes’ walk down the hill and through the olive groves brings you to a
pretty cove with an olive tree growing on the white shingle beach. By day
the peace was broken only by the sea breeze in the olives, bees humming in
the rosemary and jasmine, the exaggerated screeching of jays and the
donkle-tonkle of goat bells — the gate to the garden bears a notice asking
you to keep it closed owing to “ Danger of goats invasion” — and in the
silence of the evenings we could watch the moonlight sparkle on the sea
where the sea slugs were doing unspeakable things to each other in the
darkness.
The sweetness of watching the moon rising over Ithaca was somewhat tempered by
my poolside reading: the latest archaeological theory relocates the
legendary island kingdom of Odysseus to the other side of the island
altogether, where indeed Homer put it. The theory is a complicated business
of changing sea levels and seismic convulsions.
As if to confirm it, there were two small earthquakes, tremors really, during
our week on the island — in truth we were by then so relaxed that we didn’t
notice them, but in the south of Cephalonia crockery was jolted off
restaurant tables and the sand was shaken off 40m of beach to reveal the
limestone bedrock.
Tumbledown buildings are to be seen everywhere you walk or drive. (Walkers are
advised to take substantial footwear — the limestone maquis is gnarly — and
drivers should be warned that the free auto-rental maps are inspirational
rather than navigational once you leave the principal roads.) If you have
the time and the energy there is lots to explore on Cephalonia — ancient
sites, secret beaches, vineyards and wineries, wonderful scenery — but
frankly if you have only a week not much can beat a couple of hours’
indolent snorkelling in clear blue water, checking up on the gastro, cephalo
and pods.
Need to know
Angus Clarke travelled with Greek Islands Club (020- 8232 9780,
www.greekislandsclub.com), which has 30 secluded properties on Cephalonia. A
week’s self- catering in the Olive Grove costs from £891pp (based on four
sharing), starting on September 9. The cost includes flights from Gatwick,
car hire, welcome pack and maid service. A week in May 2007 is from £600pp.
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