When You Travel, Take Your Soul With You

Finding What You Don’t Know You’re Seeking, Ithaka Island, Greece

Responding to the Welcome message on the landing page of this blog site, a friend commented: “I get what you’re saying: when you travel, take your soul with you.”

I hadn’t written it that way, but that’s what she read. I’m glad. It’s good advice. In the rush to sight-see, to check off every place that is supposed to be on our lists, this is what we often forget about travel. If we pay attention, it broadens our view of the world and also deepens our experience of it. It can expand our souls.

This is what happened to me on the island of Ithaka, in Greece. Located in the Ionian Sea and part of the Peloponnese region, a two-hour ferry ride from the mainland, Ithaka receives a fraction of the visitors who flock to the glitzier, glammier, Aegean islands of Mykonos and Santorini. I was there in May before ‘the season’ really started, so Ithaca (as I’d known it) or (Ithaki as the Greeks call it) was even less trafficked and more laid back than it would be during the height of the season.

The ferry arrives at the port of Vathi, the island’s capital, founded by the Venetians who ruled the island in the late 16th century. Homes and shops, restaurants, small hotels, and a promenade rim the deep harbor. In this semi-tropical place, bougainvillea is already in bloom, swathing the pastel-hued houses in deep, vibrant pink. Nothing is full of visitors, and all is unhurried. In the harbor, two yachts are under sail, a few more tied up at the dock.

In the town square at the edge of the harbor, kids play soccer, a statue of Odysseus watching over them. Ithaka is said to have been the home of Odysseus: some archeological finds, a cave, and the ruins of a palace seem to validate that claim, as does the island’s name in The Odyssey, Homer’s epic.

There are mountains on Ithaka, the tallest of which, Mount Neritos, mentioned by Homer, reaches to about 800 meters. On the southeast side of the mountain, 556 meters up, is a monastery: Panagia Kathariotissa — the Virgin Mary of Kathara. While its original building date is unknown, it existed by 1530 and was reconstructed in 1696. People who live on the island believe that the icon of the Virgin Mary it houses was painted by Saint Luke and that it can work miracles, including keeping them safe during earthquakes.

Going to the monastery, the road winds up the mountain, steep curves and gentle ones, and a hairpin. I am on a bus with a tour group: the driver pops the clutch, the bus hesitates, and ten people are heard exhaling in unison as we make the turn and resume the climb. Below us, a precipice of rock is bleached white by the sun and softened by tenuous, scruffy greens, yellow and white wildflowers, and native red poppies, all made for this landscape. The mountainside in turn gives way to shoreline and the blue waters of the Ionian Sea. The curve of the island is laid out like a map, and far below us, Vathi and its harbor.

Arriving at the monastery, we follow our very knowledgeable guide, Spiros, around to the courtyard at the rear of the main chapel, where he begins a lecture about the site. The monks are not in residence: they only come in summer. Now, there is only a caretaker, who is sweeping the courtyard when we arrive. About five minutes into Spiros’s talk, seeking an experience rather than more information, I drift off to a stone terrace at the rear of the building. It is quiet. Beneath the overarching blue sky, I am alone in my reverie. There’s a view of the rugged mountainside and of fields, and right below me, a pasture where a brown cow grazes. I can hear the tearing sound of the grass as she pulls clumps of it from the earth. Wildflowers surround her, too, and from a distance, the breeze brings the sound of bells—out of view, goats must be grazing. The salt scent of the sea doesn’t reach this high up: instead, there is the brisk freshness of the untrammeled mountain setting.

Maybe twenty minutes pass: Spiros is still talking. I wander beneath the colonnade outside the chapel and enter. I’m the only one there. As soon as I cross the threshold, I am enveloped by the chapel’s spiritual presence. I’ve been in my share of churches and cathedrals, but this is different. This is small and comparatively low-ceilinged. Richly appointed, with a blue ceiling decorated with stars, a massive chandelier at its center, images of the saints presiding over it…still, it is a small country church, not a cathedral. I am awed, but not because of religious trappings intended to induce awe. I am awed because the space allows the soul to expand with its experience of the sacred. The impact was palpable.

I turned and went outside, where Spiros was about to bring the group in. Knowing what I’d felt in the chapel, I was curious to know if the others would experience it in the same way. I requested that he postpone his talk until we were outside again, allowing us to be in the chapel in silence. Bemused, he said this was a new idea to him: guides think they have to impart as much information as possible and the spiel is part of that. Yet he agreed.

The rest of the group, who had been raised in and now practiced various religious traditions, entered the chapel. I sat in one of the chairs arrayed in orderly rows facing the front. One by one, my fellow travelers followed suit, first quietly studying the architecture and icons, all eventually sitting in silence for about thirty minutes. Then, as each was ready, we rose one by one, made offerings, lit candles, and reentered the sunny afternoon of the world.

As I was sitting in that chapel, I was overwhelmed by a flood of gratitude that left room for nothing else. It wasn’t a mental litany of the many things I am grateful for. It had nothing to do with conscious thought. It was more like the presence of a great, undefined, and limitless Love.

Later, learning about my request, one of my fellow travelers said thank you,

thank you for that.

© Gladys Montgomery 2023

NOTE: The tour to sites mentioned in The Odyssey is led by mythologist and author Phil Cousineau and operated by SacredEarthJourneys.com.