On the way back to Salina, I stopped at Lipari, the largest of the islands and the only one with traffic lights. It is a gorgeous place with spectacular views, but the real gem here is the museum. The ground floor is full of Greek amphorae, many more than a metre tall, rescued from the sea. Displayed in vast banks round the rooms, these plump, voluptuous shapes are like a modern art installation. Upstairs are miniature theatrical masks from Greek drama — the flatterer, the satyr, the delicate young man, the jealous woman, the wise rustic — each type touchingly recognisable across two and a half millenniums.

If Lipari is the centre, Filicudi is the periphery, miles off to the west. It’s not a glamorous resort but a real island of fishermen and exiles, and there is a touch of sadness about it. Departure and emigration is part of the character of this place. It is wistful in the way of the Outer Hebrides, but with better weather and better food. Lunch in the tiny harbour of Pecorini Mare, with the sea almost lapping the legs of the table, was spaghetti with almonds and fresh swordfish cooked with juniper, with a local white wine.

Panarea IS at the other end of the Aeolian scale. The most popular of the islands, it is a favourite among Milanese fashionistas and young Italian hipsters. In August it must be hell. The rest of the year it is gorgeous. There are no cars, only scooters and electric carts. The carabinieri — two young guys in beach shirts and flip-flops — drive a golf cart with a blue light on top, though they manage to lounge on it, as the girls stroll past, as if it were an Alfa Romeo.

My room was on the slopes above the town. Every morning I woke up to a view of white cubist houses with terraces of potted flowers and vines set against a backdrop of blue sea. Stromboli was the nearest island. I could see smoke curling from its summit. Stromboli did not deal in smelly mud holes. It was a proper volcano, emitting the hot mysteries of the earth’s core. I longed to see it. But the sailors of Panarea had other ideas.

When I asked at reception about boats, they shook their heads. Too rough, they said. I asked at the harbour among the men who rent boats. Not today, they said. The winds have changed since that rain. I sought out one of the island’s fishermen, a short whiskery fellow in faded blues, enjoying a morning coffee in a dockside bar. Long waves, he said.

He could see my disappointment, and asked me what was so special about Stromboli. I mumbled something about the volcano. “Fireworks,” he shrugged. “So what?” “Let me tell you a story,” he went on. And he told me the story of Odysseus, who stopped on these islands on his way to Ithaca. Aeolus, the god of winds after whom the islands are named, gave him all the bad winds of the Mediterranean in a bag, warning him not to open it. When his ship had almost arrived home, his sailors, overcome by curiosity, opened the bag. The winds escaped and promptly blew them all the way back to the Aeolian Islands. It would be years before they would reach Ithaca again.

“And the moral of the story?” the fisherman asked. “Be content with what you have and where you are. The best view of Stromboli is from right here, from where you are standing. You are on holiday. Relax.”

And so I relaxed. I bonded with the hammock. I test-drove the sun lounger. I gave up the desire for Stromboli and lazed instead on sunny terraces, reading and dozing and sipping prosecco. In the mornings I went for walks to the prehistoric village spectacularly set on cliffs above the sea; to the heights of Punto del Corvo with their views back towards Salina; and to the Spiaggia Fumarole, a secluded beach. I could not have been happier. And the view of Stromboli could not have been better.

Stanley Stewart was a guest of Italian Expressions

Travel Brief

Getting there: Ryanair (www.ryanair.com) flies from Stansted to Palermo, and British Airways (0870 850 9850, www.ba.com) and Air Malta (0845 607 3710, www.airmalta.com) from Gatwick to Catania. Frequent ferries run to the islands from the Sicilian ports of Milazzo, Cefalu and Palermo, with one-way fares from £10: try Ustica Lines (00 39-092 387 3813, www.usticalines.it), Argo Ferries (090 981 4257, www.eolieferries.it) or NGI (090 928 4091, www.ngi-spa.it).

Getting around: Siremar (www.siremar.it) and Ustica (details above) run frequent ferries between the islands.

Where to stay: on Salina, the Mamma Santina (090 984 3054, www.mammasantina.it) has doubles from £83, B&B. On Panarea, try the Quartara Hotel (090 983027, www.quartarahotel.com), from £60pp, B&B. On Filicudi, at Pecorini Mare, try La Sirena (090 988 9997, www.pensionelasirena.it), from £25pp, B&B.

Tour operators: Italian Expressions (020 7433 2675, www.expressionsholidays.co.uk) has four nights on Salina and three on Panarea from £1,152, B&B, including flights from London. Or try Long Travel (01694 722193, www.long-travel.co.uk), Holiday Options (0870 420 8386, www.holidayoptions.co.uk) or Real Holidays (020 7359 3938, www.realholidays.co.uk).

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