Weather: with brisk temperatures and overcast conditions, with a gentle breeze.
Once again beating your way against the wind, it yet takes all day and another night before the ship can round Zakynthos towards Zante. The Petrel pulls into the harbor at 10 a.m., and it is almost noon before the bustle of vessels allows a space for the ship to find its way to a public dock.
(I've been hurrying ... the island of Ithaca is actually Cephalonia. I have to go back into the back two posts and fix that!).
Zante is very much like a high minded Italian city transported to an island that looks remarkably idyllic. There are green palm trees, foliage - some of which has leaves that have turned red with the winter, but still retaining them - and a thick, salty atmosphere. The people are lightly dressed, cosmopolitan, and the streets are washed clean in a way that no Italian city could be. It causes Mareo to wonder to Maximillian, "Do the people shit here?"
Quite a number of women are passing who are dressed in Turkish yashmaks and arabic dress, and the city is full of Berbers, Maltans, Sicilians, Turks, Greeks and Cypriots, and even some Spaniards and Russians.
I'll put up a trade table for Zante in just a few minutes, right after I go back and fix a few details about the previous two posts. I'll skip adding a map connecting the ship's last location with Zante.