If the idea of a holiday sounds simple, the logistics rarely are, and last summer’s break came with its own set of challenges. After 17 years as a family of four, the time had come to go away as a threesome, as our eldest son, now 20, understandably preferred to holiday with friends instead.
The first challenge was finding a destination that satisfied my desire to “fly and flop”, my 17-year-old son’s need for “somewhere I won’t be bored”, and a husband’s craving for “stuff to do”. The only thing we could all agree on was “somewhere hot”.
By May, we’d stopped arguing and settled on Greece. While we all loved the mainland, we had never visited the islands. I’d spent years dreaming of their romance: Leonard Cohen’s Hydra, the filmic backdrop of the white-washed Santorini, the hot-coolness of Mykonos. What about Paxos, Naxos, Paros, or even Antiparos? The Corfu of The Durrells? The Skiathos of Mamma Mia?
Then came challenge two: booking. By the end of May, nearly every popular destination was fully booked.
As panic set in, I turned to Simpson, a Greek travel specialist, who suggested Ithaca. This small, classic Greek island might underplay its hand in the “best of” lists, but has a starring role in Homer’s Odyssey as the birthplace of hero Odysseus and to where he returns after the Trojan war.
There were no villas with pools available, but there was an apartment overlooking the beautiful bay of Kioni. Who needs a pool when you have the Ionian Sea? It was perfect.
Getting There: An odyssey
Granted, it was a bit of a trek to get there: a 6am flight to Kefalonia, a taxi across the island to the port of Sami, a 30-minute sea taxi to Ithaca, and a 40-minute ride across the island, which is just 18 miles from end to end. But when we finally reached the apartment and opened the shutters, the view was worth every twist and turn. The sapphire shimmer of Kioni Bay spread before us like a living postcard.
I quickly understood why our driver had laughed when I asked where the best beaches were. Ithaca is an island of hidden gems – it hosts the crown jewels of beautiful, unspoiled beaches lapped by warm, blue waters. Known for its verdant landscapes and stunning coastlines, Ithaca is as magical as I had imagined. Even The Teenager managed a “wow”.
Finding our rhythm
The best thing about a Greek island holiday is that no matter how early your flight, the moment you arrive, you’re in holiday mode. Trainers are kicked off, sandals and shorts are thrown on and by the evening you feel like you’ve been there a week.
Quickly relaxing into the vibe, we decided to hunt down the nearest beach – a mere 10-minute flip-flop away. Turning right down a dreamscape of a coastal path, flanked by cypress trees, we followed it down to what we declare to be the “secret” beach for the rest of the holiday.
Not so much as a secret, but smaller than “cemetery” beach (yes the local cemetery was the backdrop, which was weirdly not eerie, but simply added to the peacefulness) just around the bend. This also was a tiny pebbled beach, with just a local crowd and a small kantina serving up calamari, souvlaki, tzatziki, salads, cold beers and carafes of local wine for a much-needed first sun-downer. The good thing about the island being a bit harder to get to is that Ithaca is blissfully free of tourist hordes. We congratulate ourselves on discovering actual paradise.
Adventures by land and sea
But would seven days here be too quiet for the teenager or too calm for my “adventure-loving” husband? Thankfully, no.
We had wisely chosen an apartment that overlooked Kioni and was within walking distance of a few shops, bars, and restaurants that clung to the bay. Ithaca’s charm lies in its understated elegance – there was no shot-slamming bar strip, but it was lively enough for families to have a good dinner out and safe enough for teenagers to break off to seek out their own holiday adventures. The only traffic consisted of yachts drifting in and out, their owners embarking on their own island-hopping odysseys.
Even in August, we didn’t have to plan or book everything in advance. Every evening, we found a table to enjoy octopus, moussaka, buttery kleftiko, grilled seabream, or wood-fired goat. Meals often ended with a passion fruit cocktail at Lizzy’s bar. The bakery and supermarket were handy for daytime smash and grabs of spinach feta pie, homemade tzatziki and plumped tomatoes for a Greek salad of dreams – not to mention beach shoes needed to navigate the pebble-dashed beaches and coves.
For adventure, we decided to rent a boat instead of a car. For €150, we hired a speedboat to explore secluded bays and low-key family-run kantinas that were nestled in them. Armed with a paper map, we underestimated the currents on our first outing and overshot the peninsula, landing on the neighbouring island of Kefalonia in time for a late breakfast. It was amusing for us, though less so for the boat owner tracking us via GPS!
The Teenager, thrilled to drive the boat, was in his element – though anchoring occasionally caused father-son tensions, with me shouting panicked instructions about avoiding rocks. But these little outbursts weren’t enough to throw shade on how dreamy it all was and the deep blue inlets only accessible by boat were as beautiful as anything I have experienced in the Caribbean.
We’d jump off the side and swim to shore, lay down to dry off and do it all again, often having whole beaches to ourselves. As we skimmed through the water, we saw flying fish and once what I thought was a wet dog, which turned out to be a rather large turtle as bad as navigating from Kefalonia as we had been.
A rich history
One of the books in our apartment was written by Jane Cochrane, a British author who moved to Ithaca in the 1990s. In Walking in the Footsteps of Odysseus, she conjures a vivid description of Kioni’s past – when it had just one taverna, a shop-post-office-social club, and a vibrant “chorus” of local characters – really brought the island to life.
While some historians dispute Ithaca really was the birthplace of Odysseus, she sets out clear evidence that it was here and not neighbouring Kefalonia which recently, and some would say, cheekily, had laid claim to the title. She also charts the stories of multiple generations of Greek families who were forced to leave the island after the 1953 earthquake, when more than 70 per cent of the buildings here were destroyed. She paints such a rich picture of life in Ithaca that I decided to seek her out on the other side of the hill where she still, in her late seventies, has a house.
Armed with a bottle of water, I follow a winding road from Kioni and after an upward climb, I get to one of the small shops-cum-local-chorus hangouts that she describes so wonderfully. Inside, I find the locals who I struggle to communicate with, but I then spot the faded photo behind the till and recognise the man in there as Kostas, a much-loved local shop owner that Jane describes in her book.
The woman behind the till smiles and I somehow understand from her that Kostas was her husband and has now died, and she offers me one of the cakes she now sells to keep his business going. Jane, she tells me (or I think she does), is now in England after being there earlier in the year. I wave goodbye hoping I’ve given the local chorus something to chatter about for the rest of the afternoon, happy in the knowledge that even for a few minutes I got to experience some of the local life and legends.
A holiday to remember
As the sun-drenched days tumble into pink-hued evenings and Jasmine-infused nights, life slows down and we strike an easy balance between doing our own thing and sussing out a new equilibrium as a family of three. Without his older brother, The Teenager quickly found new friends to hang out with in the evening. Teens on holiday with their families quickly establish their own routines of night swims and holiday romances – which I am obviously not allowed to mention here.
With The Husband happy with his morning runs and me reading on the terrace watching the boats drift in and out of the bay, we meet for late afternoon beach jaunts that delivered the perfect holiday score in pretty much every way.
By the time it comes to the last breakfast, last bakery trip, last terrace lunch, last walk to the secret beach and last dinner of grilled lamb, we already know these aren’t going to be “lasts” at all. We will return to this Greek island of dreams. Ithaca has stolen our hearts and maybe a little bit more for The Teenager, who only just makes it with minutes to spare to catch our homeward taxi at sunrise. Looking sheepish and dishevelled, I forgive him. After all, what Greek island holiday would be complete without a summer romance? But that, as I mentioned before, is not my story to tell.
Specialist independent villa operator Simpson Travel offers a week at Kyparissi Suites on Ithaca from £865 per person based on two sharing, including flights, transfers from Kefalonia airport to Ithaca port, hire car (including additional driver and zero excess insurance), pre-departure and overseas concierge services and full Atol protection
