Odyssey - The Donkey

Odysseas they call me. Who would have thought it - a humble donkey named after a great Greek hero! And look at the paradise I call home - Kalymnos. You would think that I had been grazing in my garden cantering around the schoolyard, ambling along the sea shore and munching treats all my life, but my early days were quite different. My journey to Telendos was quite long and hard. Let me tell you the story.......

Just off the holy island of Patmos lies a dinner plate of land called Arki; a place of rock with a single taverna with donkeys roaming free. This is the herd into which I was born. My grey coat is quite unusual but we all have a dark cross on our backs and are known as Provencal, so I suppose our ancestors came to Greece from France many moons ago.

Anyway, at first I enjoyed our wild, outdoor life and then I would see people arrive in boats and go to the taverna, talking and laughing. They would point at me and smile, call me cute but none of them ever came near me. As dusk turned to starlight, I would find myself longing to leave with the visitors in search of excitement and something more - a real home, the company of creatures othen than donkeys, and a roof over my head at night.

They say that our dreams can create lives; I guess it must be true. One day, when I was just into my eighth donkey month, a big ship steamed into view and manoeuvred alongside our tiny jetty. I saw its name - the Nisos Kalymnos. Two men jumped off, came over and put a rope around my neck. They seemed surprised that I didn't struggle, but why would I protest when the smell of escape and adventure finally flared in my nostrils?

The tied me to the ships lower deck with lorries, motorbikes and parcels, but all the crew seemed scared to come near me, even to give me food. I could tell they thought I was stupid and dangerous and began to wonder whether life with humans was really such a good idea. For eight long hours we chugged slowly from island to island and nobody fed me or even game me water. Couldnt they understand my desperate eeyore messages. By the time we got to Kalymnos, I was hungry, angry and pretty frightened myself. That is why I kicked out a Yanni and nearly destroyed his cousins van. Well, how was I to know he would become my best friend.

I finally allowed Yanni to coax me on to a wooden boat called Regina because I could hear soothing music on board. It was by Pink Floyd; they are still my favourite band! All the talk was of our destination; Telendos. In silver moonlight, I saw the craggy outline of a mountain island with strands of rock reaching into a calm, dark sea. Along the shoreline was a beach framed by salt trees and several rows of lights. They came from tavernas and cafes where groups of people sat chatting, eating, drinking and looking very relaxed. This was promising.

As Yanni led me along a wide promenade, I noticed there were no cars or motorbikes. Instead I saw trees, flowers, two small shops, a pebbly beach by a house with a blue and white rowing boat moored in its own miniature harbour. We turned inland to a path overhung with pink bougainvillea and passed a churcfh with a turquoise roof and bell-tower. Finally we stopped beside a little house and people ran out excitedly. Their excitement was for me! Two small boys petted and hugged me, their granny and granddad stood smiling and when a quiet lady called Gina gave me some carrots with a beautiful smile, I knew I was home at last!

At first, I stayed close to my new house and family. Yanni understood that I needed to settle in and overcome the exhaustion of that journey. After a while, I began to meet other residents and all of them made me feel welcome. i still had no name but I heard people call me 'The Telendso Donkey' with real pride in their voices. Soon I understood that they all thought I was special. I hadnt only found one family but had actually been adopted by a whole island. How lucky can a young donkey get!

Now I wanted to explore, to find out more about this place and its history. How did it all begin? Well in Roman times Kalymnos was all one and this piece of land stood at the edge of the capital town Potha. Then one hot morning, in the year 535, an eerie quiet fell and the ground started to tremble. For fourteen tumultuous days, a furios earthquake smashed and rumbled. When its massive dust clouds finally settled, the houses and marble columns of Potha lay drowned beneath an azure seaway. Beyond it rose the newly formed mountain island: Telendos.

As I walk to the beach when the sea lies calm, I like to look at the lines of stone that still glow gold below the crystal clear water - a buried city. I wonder how many donkeys survived? The people who lived and came to settle on this island - the men who went for fish or dived for sponges, the women who grew food and gathered herbs for healing, must have given thanks to their god. Thats probably why they built so many churches in the time they call 'Byzantine'. Their wooden roofs are long gone but some of the walls remain. You can still see the shape of the apse and the place where the alter once stood.

People certainly like to visit Telendos. On the 14th August - the eve of the day of the Holy Mary - they come from all over Kalymnos to visit our little church. I got a glimpse inside myself last year. It has huge brass holders for flickering candles, beautiful paintings of saints on the walls and a blue ceiling covered in shining gold stars. After church there is walking, feasting and fun. This year they say there will be dancing. I wonder if I will be allowed to join in?

In winter our routine is very quiet, but all summer long, visitors arrive from the other countries of Europe to spend their holidays here. Also Kalymnians travel from Australia and the United States just to see their homeland. By day, they go off to swim at one of the six quiet beaches and at night they sit under a sky full of stars enjoying stifado, souvlaki and retsina or octopus and sardines with ouzo. This is the time of year I love best.

Most Greek donkeys have to work for a living and forage for their food, but Yanni and the other Telendians have promised me a good life - and I reckon I have got it. I have my own little wooden shelter and a garden that I share with my friend Scooby doo, the dog. Every monring I gallop free around the boys school, frisking and kicking for joy and then Yanni takes me to the tiny pebbly beach where I like to stop and do a few twirls, just to let him know who is really in charge! When he has sorted out my tangled rope, we move to my grazing ground for the day, where I watch the world go by and talk to passing holidaymakers.

To get home in the evening, we have to walk through the busy tavernas and that is when I really come into my own, getting friendly with the people. They pay me compliments, stroke my nose and pat my back, and give me snacks to eat. Of course I love carrots but I am also very partial to melon and peanuts are a big treat!

At the end of the evening, some visitors climb aboard the boats to leave - but I want none of that. Just as Odysseas, my heroic namesake, finally settled with his Penelope, so am I content to sltay here on my island home.