The fisherman sings as his boat swings into the small bay at Polis, Ithaca. His chugging boat is laden with a good catch.
Mr Grigg washes down the decks as I prepare breakfast of fruit, yoghurt and honey. There is a tinkling of bells as the goats wander down to the water's edge to nibble on seaweed.
The sun has taken a long time to rise above the steep slope to our port side. But the water is nice and warm. And the fish - those that have evaded the fisherman's net - swirl and swish their silvery sides, back and forth, back and forth.
Polis is a magical place. Here in a cave - its roof collapsed now following an earthquake - twelve geometric tripods, similar to those described in the Odyssey, were once found, along with terracotta masks dedicated to Homer's hero.
A trip to the archaeological museum at Stavros beckons, along with lunch at the garden restaurant, Polyphemus.
If the Ithaca of Odysseus really existed, then surely this must be it.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x