From Constantinople, the fictional John Mandeville outlines his travels to Greek islands–still on his way to the Holy Land. This section of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville builds upon the narrator’s identification of Greek Christians as different from the Western Christians within Mandeville’s audience. He asserts the necessity of this distinction, writing, “For many people take great pleasure and comfort to hear talk of unfamiliar things” (14). This statement reflects both Mandeville’s bias and his purpose for writing a travel account. Aside from the trees on the island of Chios, he does not provide ethnographic details about Greece. This choice focuses Mandeville’s account on the importance of religious sites rather than the people who inhabit them.

Thus, Mandeville spends more time writing about locations integral to Christian memory. To Mandeville, the importance of a place is dependent upon what event happened there. While less significant places are merely listed, many locations are denoted by an associated Christian figure or relic. Furthermore, Mandeville takes more time to address the most relevant places and their story, whether historical, mythical, or Biblical. Mandeville associates Patmos with being, “where Saint John the Evangelist wrote the Apocalypse” (14). Rather than talking about the island’s terrain or people, Mandeville instead tells his reader about Saint John–quickly shifting his location to Ephesus, where Saint John died.

Mandeville describes Ephesus more than the preceding Greek islands, signaling its value to his audience. He calls it, “a lovely city” (14), on account of the fact that it was once controlled by Christians. To Mandeville, the hallmark of Ephesus is the tomb of Saint John and the mysterious whereabouts of his body. Similar to the provenance of the relics he encountered in Constantinople, Mandeville highlights that the story of Saint John’s tomb is contentious. He notes that, “some men say that his body was translated to Paradise” (14), while others believe, “he did not die but that he is resting there until the Day of Judgement” (14). By addressing various conclusions to the question of Saint John’s tomb, Mandeville maintains the site’s relevance, making it contemporary to his reader rather than solely historical.

Beyond Ephesus, Mandeville briefly accounts for Patera, the birthplace of Saint Nicholas, and its wine, before writing about the island of Lango. In contrast to previous locations, Mandeville’s description of Lango is tethered to regional myth. He outlines the presumed origin of the island, noting it to be, “Hippocrates’ daughter in the form of a dragon” (15). Mandeville goes on to detail a story about a young maiden being transformed into a dragon, with only a bold, brave knight able to save her. Similar to his description of holy, Christian relics and sites, Mandeville constructs an ultimatum of fate. If the young maiden is kissed by the right knight, she will no longer be a dragon. Similarly, if Saint John is in his tomb, when the Day of Judgement arrives, he will reappear. The ‘if’ within Mandeville’s account adds a layer of intrigue, positioning him as a storyteller rather than a travel expert.

Although Mandeville is less receptive to the customs of Greek Christians, this section illustrates his appreciation for explanations different than his own. Since Mandeville’s account is not rooted in fact, the power of a place is dependent on its associated myth–whether secular, pagan, or Christian. Though this account tracks Mandeville’s journey to Jerusalem, he does not condemn the stories of other cultures, but embraces them. Mandeville bridges the gap between his travels and his reader by underscoring the continuous, cross-cultural practice of storytelling.