Thursday, June 2, 2011
Lunch at sandy Pylos
Yesterday a friend of mine had to travel to Pylos, our local administrative centre, to pay some bills. As in the case of Kalamata, Pylos boasts one or two restaurants that offer a range of dishes to which above average attention is given to preparation and presentation. My chum suggested that as he had to go to Pylos we make up a small lunch party. I felt it would have been less than friendly to refuse so enjoyed with him and two others an excellent lunch of fish and chips and local Rosé, high on the cliff overlooking Homer’s ‘sandy Pylos', on the terrace of the excellent Hotel Philip restaurant.
Shadows on shelving sand in sandy Pylos.
Wave-clip and flirt, tide-slap and flop and flow;
I woke to the world there like Telemachos,
Young again in the whitewashed light of morning
That flashed on the ceiling like an early warning
From myself to be more myself in the mast-bending
Marine breeze, to key the understanding
To that image of the bow strung as a lyre
Robert Fitzgerald spoke of: Harvard Nestor,
Sponsor and host, translator of al Homer,
His wasted face in profile, ceiling-staring
As he schooled me in the course, not yet past caring,
Scanning the offing. Far seeing shadower.