DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4593#0082
THE IONIAN ISLES 65
height the eye of the camera caught the water of the
Gulf of Molo on one side, and the water of the strait
on the other, while the rugged mountain ridge arched
its back between them. I lingered on the summit
till the sun went down, and then, with the goatherd,
made my way to the town of Vathy, which was not
reached till after dark. A hardy fisherman and his
boy joined us on our way, and were much impressed
with what I told them of the physical greatness of
America as compared with Ithaca.
The ladies, with their youthful escort, had already
found accommodation in a little Greek inn bearing
the lofty name of Parnassus. It is pretty hard for
any hotel to live up to the majestic pretension of this
name, and if Spiridion, my worthy host, came short
of it, I am bound to say that the prices were not so
high as the mountain. A rickety outside stairway
led to the four rooms of the inn. Below was the
kitchen, where the modern Spiridion and his wife
lived, and cooked potatoes and fish, — fish and po-
tatoes, potatoes and fish, hot for breakfast, tepid for
dinner, and cold for supper.
In one of the tiny bedrooms hung a bit of a mir-
ror. This was the hotel register, where the six or
eight visitors of the last ten years had stuck their
visiting cards. We studied them with interest. There
were some German professors, and an English lord
or two, who had anchored their yachts in the shel-
tered harbor, where fifty vessels could find protection ;
but not an American name among them. Many a
year it will be before seven Americans take Vathy by
storm again. Our blessings are with them when they
go! Let them not expect to have the three bed-
5
height the eye of the camera caught the water of the
Gulf of Molo on one side, and the water of the strait
on the other, while the rugged mountain ridge arched
its back between them. I lingered on the summit
till the sun went down, and then, with the goatherd,
made my way to the town of Vathy, which was not
reached till after dark. A hardy fisherman and his
boy joined us on our way, and were much impressed
with what I told them of the physical greatness of
America as compared with Ithaca.
The ladies, with their youthful escort, had already
found accommodation in a little Greek inn bearing
the lofty name of Parnassus. It is pretty hard for
any hotel to live up to the majestic pretension of this
name, and if Spiridion, my worthy host, came short
of it, I am bound to say that the prices were not so
high as the mountain. A rickety outside stairway
led to the four rooms of the inn. Below was the
kitchen, where the modern Spiridion and his wife
lived, and cooked potatoes and fish, — fish and po-
tatoes, potatoes and fish, hot for breakfast, tepid for
dinner, and cold for supper.
In one of the tiny bedrooms hung a bit of a mir-
ror. This was the hotel register, where the six or
eight visitors of the last ten years had stuck their
visiting cards. We studied them with interest. There
were some German professors, and an English lord
or two, who had anchored their yachts in the shel-
tered harbor, where fifty vessels could find protection ;
but not an American name among them. Many a
year it will be before seven Americans take Vathy by
storm again. Our blessings are with them when they
go! Let them not expect to have the three bed-
5