See Naples and Live... More – 6: The Antro, The Intro And The Outro

Acropolis at Cumae        Photo©Nigel Summerley

Cumae (formerly known as Kimi) is reckoned to be the first Greek settlement on the west coast of what was later to become Italy.

Today it's a short suburban train ride west from Naples just a few minutes beyond Pozzuoli (see previous blog).

The ruins at Cumae are more extensive than at Pozzuoli, with the star attractions including its acropolis, a temple of Apollo and the Antro della Sibilla.

As with so many stories of ancient Greece/Rome/Naples, nothing is known for certain about the Cumaean Sybil, apart from the fact that she was a legendary prophesying priestess of Apollo, similar to the one at Delphi but said to be more powerful.

She presided over the the gateway between life and death, which has long been associated with the area to the west of Naples – the volcanic lands of the Phlegrean Fields and Lake Avernus (see this blog 5 December 2020, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 11: 15-21 September 2020) were closely connected with the Underworld and entrances to Hell.

The Antro, although referred to as the Sybil's Cave, is a bit grander than that suggests. In fact, to quite a degree, it fits the description given by Virgil of the place where Aeneas visited the Sybil before going down into the kingdom of the dead.

Entrance to the Antro della Sibilla        Photo©Nigel Summerley

The entrance to the Antro is decidedly – and most likely deliberately – vaginal. It seems mysterious yet inviting, but as I stepped over the threshold, I heard a woman's voice in the gloomy distance asking me to go back out.

"I'm filming," she shouted.

I thought she was being a bit unreasonable but did as she asked. It was only after she finally emerged and I then walked down into the long and vacant gallery that I appreciated what she had been trying to do.

The Antro is pretty impressive on the way in, but even more so when one reaches the far end, turns and then begins to return towards the light. That is what this latterday Sybil had been proclaiming she had to capture on video.

Into the Antro       Photo©Nigel Summerley

The Antro is more than 130 metres long with countless side galleries and "windows" to the outside. 

And it's certainly a lot grander than the alternative location – the Sybil's Cave (see this blog 28 November 2020, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 10: 8-14 September 2020) by the shores of Lake Avernus.

View from the interior of the Antro       Photo©Nigel Summerley

Beyond The Pail

 

This photograph was never intended to be a great picture... it was more of a note of how the Arethusa Spring on Ithaca looks.

But it has just taken on a new significance.

A reader in Key West, Florida, who saw my article in The Guardian on walking in the footsteps of Telemachus, got in touch to say he had hiked to the spring three decades ago... and left a bucket there for hauling up water.

I sent him a copy of this picture and he confirmed that the rusty bucket in the foreground looks like it's his.

Unfortunately, both his rusty bucket and the slightly less rusty one are no longer fit for hauling up water.

So maybe someone needs to take a new one up there...

If you fancy doing it, Walking In The Footsteps Of Odysseus – A Practical Guide To The Homeric Paths Of Ithaca, the book I worked on with author Jane Cochrane, may be helpful. Details at www.janeocochrane.co.uk.

Naples in Perspective

A last word from me on Naples – for the time being – can be found in the latest ssue of the excellent magazine Perspective...

https://perspectivemag.co.uk/letter-from-elsewhere-naples/

Ithaca In Words – and Pictures

Jane Cochrane oversees her paintings being displayed

Preparations are under way for the official launch of Walking In The Footsteps Of Odysseus, the new guidebook to Ithaca by Jane Cochrane in which I played a bit part as walk-checker and sub-editor.

A capacity audience is expected to be at Paddington Library for the event on 28 April when Jane will be in conversation with me, talking about the genesis of the book and her love affair with the island so closely linked to Homer's Odyssey.

Whether or not you are going to the launch, you are now able to see some of Jane's beautiful Ithaca paintings on show at the library – for as well as being a meticulous researcher and writer, she is also a talented artist.

More information at www.janeocochrane.co.uk.

You Too Can Follow Odysseus

Jane Cochrane's brilliant new Ithacan guidebook, Walking in the Footsteps of Odysseus, is now available to order online – details at www.janeocochrane.co.uk.

And she will be in conversation (with me) for an official launch on the evening of 28 April at Paddington Library, London W2. If you want to be there, you will need to book at https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/walking-in-the-footsteps-of-odysseus-tickets-269509499167?aff=ebdssbdestsearch.

In the Footsteps of Telemachus

If there is anyone out there who hasn't had enough of reading my blogs on An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague and An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague, I have an article in The Guardian this week about literally one of the high points... Click here

See Naples and Live – 25: The End of Another Odyssey

©Nigel Summerley

When I saw this reproduction head in an antiques shop window in Naples, it was like meeting an old friend.

It's Odysseus of course – a very old friend. I had last encountered this depiction of him during my 2020 trip when I visited Sperlonga on Italy's Odyssean Coast [see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 12: 22-28 September 2020].

As I've mentioned before, there is a big connection between the travels of Odysseus and the west coast of Italy, but it was still a lovely surprise to find him here in the heart of Naples.

And the slow train that finally took me from Naples back to Rome a few days later afforded me a glimpse of one of the most magical places from my own odyssey in 2020 – and from that of Odysseus many, many centuries before.

It was Monte Circeo... once an isle where the sorceress Circe was said to have roamed, but now a promontory, even though it still looks like an island [see this blog An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Islands, 9 January 2021].

Glimpsed from a train window... Monte Circeo,
the isle of Circe  ©Nigel Summerley

After that, I rode the train into the sunset... and my wonderful adventures in Naples came to an end...

©Nigel Summerley

See Naples and Live

Some Neapolitan philosophy

I fell in love with Naples last year – on my Odyssey in the Year of the Plague (see this blog from March to October 2020). But I was only passing through, so it may have been just a temporary infatuation.

I had to return to see if it was the real thing. Was it truly as alive and and as crazy and as exciting as I thought? No, it isn't – I find that now I'm back, it's even more so, in all departments.

I'm only here for a few days, but Marco – in whose place I'm staying in the old city – has given me a list of personally recommended restaurants and bars that could occupy every hour of the days and nights of my visit.

And I already have my own impossible list of amazing things that I want to see.

Another mini odyssey starts here...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Back to the End

A midsummer night's dream... on Petraki

At the end of last year's six-week trip around the Odyssean sites of Greece and Italy I found myself staying on the night of my 70th birthday in a great hotel just off Syntagma Square in central Athens [see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 13: 29 September - 4 October 2020].

On the last night of this year's mini-odyssey Odysseus' Island writer Jane Cochrane invited me to join her and a Greek cousin of her late husband for dinner.

We all met at the Syntagma tram stop... and then the cousin led us to a restaurant she had chosen for the occasion, in the very same street as – and just across the way from – that excellent hotel I had stayed in in 2020.

It was an almost-too-good-to-be-true coincidence and it made a lovely farewell evening even more emotional.

That hotel in Petraki Street, by the way, used to be called the Athens La Strada. Now it's changed its name to the Villa Brown Ermou.

A year brings many changes of course... but will covid continue to be with us? And will there be An Odyssey in the Third Year of the Plague?

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – A Modern-Day Homer

 

Andronikos Sakkatos

Athens has many attractions... but for me, this time, perhaps the greatest was to meet again with Andronikos Sakkatos, the archaeologist and passionate Odysseist, whom I encountered by pure chance last year in Ithaca at the end of my own odyssey [see this blog, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 13: 29 September - 4 October 2020].

We met this time at a café near the Acropolis, and Andronikos spoke for the best part of two-and-a-half hours about his hopes for Ithaca to start making the most of its Homeric heritage.

Much needs to be done. The archaeological site of the Palace of Odysseus must be secured and made visitor-friendly, hundreds of still unsorted artefacts have to be put on display, and the island needs a new cultural centre focused on the importance of The Odyssey to the whole world.

This is the message of Andronikos – a modern-day Homer who seems capable of singing the praises of Odysseus forever. He didn't even take a break for a second cup of tea or a snack – "I can't eat when I am being passionate," he explained. "I am a machine!"

He may be a machine but he also has a huge heart – a truly great man and a real Ithacan hero.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – The Big One

 

Pera Pigadi Bay  ©Jane Cochrane

This was the toughest of the walks on Ithaca – in fact it was also a large part climbing, and a small part mountaineering.

That's me pictured on the beach at Pera Pigadi Bay before setting off to the top of the crag far above, which is known as the Korakos Petra.

It has been convincingly argued that this was the route taken by Odysseus's son, Telemachus, when he returned to Ithaca from trying to find out what had happened to his long-absent dad.

Last week locals were saying that this ascent could no longer be done. But I am glad to say that they were proved wrong.

If you're wondering why I'm not giving much more detail about this and the other walks I've been helping to research on Ithaca, it's because all will be revealed when Jane Cochrane's new book, Walking in the Footsteps of Odysseus on Ithaca, is published – hopefully later in 2021.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – A Farewell to Ithaca

 

The man himself – Odysseus

This past week on Ithaca has been intense, with eight great walks completed... following in the footsteps of Odysseus... and Homer.

The island, as always it seems, has been filled with magic... from the touristy (yes, there are some tourists!) and boaty bustle of Vathi in the south to the more rustic and peaceful Stavros, Frikes and Kioni in the north.

There are no cases of covid... yet Ithacans have no problem continuing to wear masks in shops and offices. And why anyone would have to go into quarantine returning from here to the virus-stricken UK is beyond me. The other way round would make more sense.

Next stop is Athens for a reunion with archaeologist Andronikos Sakkatos [see this blog, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 13: 29 September - 4 October 2020] to get an update on what the future holds for the site of the Palace of Odysseus.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Blood on the Tracks

 

Ithaca 2021

Walking on Ithaca is a pleasure that does not come without pain... particularly when one is following the paths less trodden.

At the end of my odyssey in 2020 I was left with my legs badly cut – from walking on an Ithacan path that had been seriously blocked by trees blown down in a cyclone [see this blog, An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 13: 29 September - 4 October 2020]. The agony by a hundred cuts came courtesy of the briars and undergrowth that I was forced to make my way through, off-piste.

I was more than happy to return to Ithaca... but I never wanted to repeat that particular experience. However, after following a less well-walked path that petered out into thick forest and bush... I've just done exactly the same. And my legs are covered in bloody scratches – bloody painful scratches, in fact.

Maybe this time I will learn my lesson.

Ithaca 2021

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Summoned to the Palace

 

Site of the Palace of Odysseus

Endless confusion, lockdowns beginning and ending and beginning again, the virus under control one minute and out of control the next, mixed messages, corrupt practices...

Thank goodness 2020 is behind us...

The only problem is that all the above applies to 2021 too...

And once more I wonder if I'll make it to Ithaca... and now, increasingly (and Odysseanly), how difficult it will be to get back home.

The paperwork is done – vaccination certificates in duplicate, passenger locator form, proof that I have to travel for work – so now it's just a matter of packing the case that travelled with me for six weeks in 2020 on The Odyssey in the Year of the Plague [see this blog] – which succeeded against the odds.

With luck I hope soon to stand in the Palace of Odysseus again...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Faith in the Fates

 

No, that's not the UK Cabinet trying to figure out what to do... it's the Fates (as portrayed in the wonderful Disney movie Hercules) measuring out what should happen next...

In fact, you'd probably be better off trusting the latter than the former...

You want an example of the UK government's ability to still send mixed messages and sow confusion?

Travel to Greece has not been banned but we are being told not to go... Add that to being told you can now mix with people indoors but you are advised not to do it...

We've had to put up with this kind of thing right the way through 2020 (see this blog for An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – a day-by-day account from March through to October last year) and we're still having to put up with it in 2021.

Those with essential reasons will – at the moment – be allowed to go to Greece. It's essential for me to go to Ithaca. And I feel increasingly that it's essential for me to get out of the UK for a while at least...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Ithaca Beckons

Odysseus remembered... on Ithaca

Maybe, this blog should turn its thoughts properly towards my odyssey in the second year of the plague.

My first odyssey in the year of the plague (see posts from 2020) ended up producing 70,000 words as I planned and finally made my journey around Greece and Italy in the wake of Odysseus.

As a result of that trip, I now have the honour of working with Jane Cochrane on a new guidebook to Ithaca – with Jane doing all the hard work of writing and research, and me doing the fun bits of walking across Ithaca in the footsteps of Odysseus – guided by Homer.

Sorry again, Greta, but the only way we are going to get to Ithaca is by flying to Kefalonia and taking the ferry from there. 

The flight has been changed twice already due to the shifting Covid situation. So, once more, making it to Ithaca depends on the whim of the gods – and the virus.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Troy Story

 

One of the strangest books I've ever encountered has found its way into my possession.

In Where Troy Once Stood the Dutch writer Iman Wilkens puts forward his case that the fabled city of The Iliad was actually in what is now Cambridgeshire. I'm not making this up... but I don't know about him...

And when it comes to The Odyssey, he locates the Cyclops in the Cape Verde Islands, the island of Aeolus and the realm of Circe in the Netherlands, the Laestrygonians in Cuba, the Sirens and Scylla and Charybdis in Cornwall,  Calypso in the Azores, and Ithaca in southern Spain...

Will I be cancelling my trip to Ithaca (an island in Greece) in June to walk in the footsteps of Odysseus once more? Er, I think not... 

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Paint The Lyric

Odysseus Dreams of Returning to Ithaca by Elias Mesisklis

I am indebted once more to Anastasia Gavilanes, who was so helpful to me when I arrived on Ithaca at the end of my odyssey last year (see this blog An Odyssey in the Year of the Plague – 13: 29 September - 4 October 2020), for telling me about the Paint The Lyric festival planned to take place on the island later in 2021.

The theme is simple. Artists are invited to give their perspectives on The Odyssey – a character, a theme or the whole story – and their visions are brought together for an exhibition on Ithaca.

The wonderful painting above is an example of what can be expected...

If you want to know more and/or get an entry form, visit the Paint The Lyric Facebook page.

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Per Ardua Ad AstraZeneca

Vaccination is turning into an Odyssey of its own... I was due to get the Oxford/AstraZeneca one today... But then the GP practice told me at the last minute that they had run out of AstraZeneca and were now using Pfizer.

Not particularly keen on having an mRNA vaccine, I cancelled... and instead responded to one of the relentless NHS letters that keep coming through my door. And now I've been booked to have the AstraZeneca just a couple of miles from where they are now dishing out the Pfizer.

I felt a bit disappointed by the U-turn, or V-turn, on vaccines at my GP surgery – not least because the name of the helpful man who made the booking was... Ulysses.

You couldn't make it up...

An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague – Parthenope

 Fontana della Sirena - Piazza Sannazar, Naples

Odysseus had a tendency to fall under the spell of enchantresses – at least that was one of his excuses for being late getting home to Ithaca.

However, one alluring female not only found herself being resisted by him, but she was so distraught at her failure that she surrendered her own life.

She was Parthenope, one of the Sirens, who flung herself into the sea and was washed up dying on the shore of what today is the city of Naples. Greek settlers here, on the west coast of what became Italy, originally named their town after her.

Parthenope was half-bird and half-woman (as the Sirens were originally described). Her legend became entwined with the history of Naples, and there are now three fountains in the city that commemorate her.

The most unusual is the Fontana di Spinacorona whose "lactating" breasts actually spill water over Vesuvius below her. In their impeccable guide Secret Naples, Valerio Ceva Grimaldi and Maria Franchini recount that this 15th-century depiction of Parthenope was intended to have a calming and contemplative effect, but "it has always been popularly known as the 'fountain of the tits'."

Fontana di Spinacorona

Another Parthenope tribute is the Fontana della Sirena at Piazza Sannazar (at the top of this post) and the third is the more modern one at Napoli Centrale railway station (featured along with other Siren images from my 2020 odyssey on this blog at An Odyssey in the Second Year of the Plague  – Siren Land).

It was only in the Middle Ages that the image of the Sirens underwent a makeover with their emergence as half-woman and half-fish – and a merger with all the many legends of mermaids who lured sailors to their doom.

Over the centuries, depictions of the Sirens have become increasingly erotic, one example being the Fountain of the Sirens at Maratea, which I passed through last year, heading up the beautiful west coast of Italy, north to Naples. 

Fountain of the Sirens at Maratea