Have you read “My Family and Other
Animals” by Gerald Durrell? It’s been one of my favourite books since primary
school days. I recommended it to Ian and he enjoyed it very much also. It is
guaranteed to make you want to visit Corfu, preferably with a butterfly net, a
collection of glass jars and a straw hat. It tells the delightful story of the
Durrell family who moved to the island in the years between the wars, from the
point of view of the youngest member of the family, ten year old Gerald, a born
naturalist who basically runs wild and free over the island investigating the
wildlife. It always seemed like a paradise to me, cooped up in a stuffy
classroom interminably. It has been made into several television series too
which make for lovely viewing. I finally got to visit way back in 1980 (when I
was surely just an embryo!) and I found the paradise I was looking for with
jewel blue and green seas, golden sand, olive groves and friendly locals, some
in donkey drawn carts. I used a moped to flit about the island and found
totally deserted beaches. I saw fireflies blink and quiver before my mesmerised
eyes and I got chased by a very cranky watch turkey (like a watch dog but with
fewer teeth). My short visit to the island of Corfu was definitely one of the
highlights of my first sojourn in Europe all those years ago and I made a
mental note to return asap.
Well turns out my
“as soon as possible” was a long time in the achieving but 38 years later I
made it with my gorgeous partner in travel, Ian. That’s a long time between
ouzos! I was prepared for a “resortification” of the island, I mean 38 years is
a lifetime in destination terms but to be honest, I was expecting more and was
surprised to find so many areas virtually untouched by the tourist footprint.
Admittedly they were mostly away from the coast and the all important
sea-frontage so prized by visitors. We stayed in the delightful tiny village of
Agios Prokopios not far from the island’s main town, Corfu Town or Kerkyra
(Kέρκυρɑ) and essentially in the centre of the island. We were met at the
airport by our generous and friendly Airbnb host, Sophia who led our car along
narrow winding roads to our village home, a beautifully refurbished and fully
self-contained pension complete with wine in the fridge and a cat on the
doorstep in a narrow cobbled lane surrounded by olive groves and vine covered
buildings. Sophia brought a plate of delicious chopped home-grown tomatoes and
capers on chunky local bread doused with a liberal splosh of olive oil which we
consumed with the wine by candlelight at a table by our doorway at 11pm. We
watched the moon rise in the clear sky and we were officially on Greek time.
The sound of local
Greek chatter from the little taverna and tiny village square lulled us to
sleep in the small hours and the crowing of roosters roused us in the morning.
During a walk around the village the next morning, I was met with smiles and
calls of “kalimera”.
“Our” cat was on the doorstep when we closed the door each evening and there again when we opened it again in the morning. We called him πατάκι which is doormat in Greek. He made full use of our laps whenever we made one. It was sweet to have a purring feline snuggled on our lap. We miss our furry ladies in Sydney.
The village was a perfect base from which to explore the island. We drove north-west to Palaiokastritsa and marvelled at the bright aqua water. We walked up the hill to the monastery and olive mill and looked down over the stunning coast. Last time I was here there was very little sign of tourist infrastructure. Today there are jetties taking throngs out in boats to various coastal caves and rock formations but it is still a very pretty spot. We drove further on to the north coast stopping at sleepy mountain villages and bustling beach side towns.
We wandered through a small fishing village where the local fishermen worked together mending their nets, one fellow using his toes as a third hand to hold the net in place. The local tavernas and restaurants boasted a huge range of seafood, understandably as the fishing boats were less than ten metres from their doors.
The next day we took the coastal road along the north eastern water’s edge. The road literally follows the coastline for kilometres. You could just about jump from the car seat into the sea! The colour of the water is dazzling as it is in so much of the Mediterranean, Ionian, Adriatic and Aegean Seas. We found a tiny beach down an extremely steep goat track of a road (I use the term “road” quite loosely here) to a beach with a tiny taverna, full of locals, perched above the pebbles and sand. We plunged into the clear pleasant water to bob and float. The weather during our stay was changeable to say the least. Most days thunderstorms were forecast but just when and where they would strike was anybody’s guess.
Visiting Canal d’Amour Beach we watched people jump from the rocky ledges into the sea and others smear themselves with mud from the steep sides of the beach we watched a dark storm turn the sky purple.
Perhaps standing on an isolated cliff top during an approaching electrical storm was, on reflection, not the smartest choice so we turned to head back to the car. Approaching a beach-side bar the first huge raindrop splashed on my face. It was perhaps 150 metres to the car but within seconds that single drop turned into a torrential downpour so what else could we do but retreat to the bar? Ian ordered wine and I ordered icecream and we watched the storm move along the coast until the sun broke through again and the glass folding doors were moved back to reveal the dripping landscape.
We had similar perfect timing on the last day of our stay when we stopped for some lunch at a canal side café in Lefkimmi, a town in the southern tip of the island. As we sat and discussed menu options the clouds drew in. As our food arrived the waiters dashed from the café to the canopied outside dining areas in the downpour. And as the bill was settled, the sun reappeared to steam the pavements dry. The temperatures were in the early to mid 30s each day and a pleasant 22ish overnight.
The skies were often cloud-filled in some pretty extraordinary displays. There were amazing towering cumulonimbus affairs that looked incredible on the horizons. Coastal Albania just a short hop across the straight from northern Corfu wore long flat berets of cloud on her mountain tops. The water was a perfect temperature for swimming, refreshing but not bracing.
A one hour and forty five minute ferry trip took us to Gaios on the island of Paxos off the southern tip of Corfu, where we hopped into a smaller runabout to scoot the 15-20 minutes to the tiny island of Antipaxos. After a morning coffee and spanakopita overlooking the dazzling aquamarine beach we walked to a smaller beach where we had the place to ourselves. The water looks especially glorious against the white cliffs of folded rock formations that edge the beaches and coves.
After a wonderful wallow we wandered on to another beach but on closer inspection we found it thronged by boat arrivals so we returned to main beach to swim and wait for our ride back to Paxos. The “Insta” set have found Antipaxos and we watched with a mixture of amusement and amazement at the lady frolicking and pouting firstly as her husband took photo after photo (which she quickly reviewed and critiqued) and then dozens of unnaturally posed selfies. I actually saw her gently shove her toddler out of one of the shots! Admittedly the sparkling water makes a lovely backdrop but lounging provocatively on the sand while making odd faces into your phone strikes me as a bit of a waste of time when you could actually just be relaxing and enjoying the place with your husband and child.
Back in Gaios we strolled the narrow cobbled streets and the waterside paths. A cold local beer slipped down very nicely overlooking the sparkling sea and we felt like the luckiest people alive.
Our food choices were suitably Greek, seafood, lamb, olives, cheese, seafood with cheese, lamb with cheese, olives with cheese, cheese with cheese. I discovered Feta Psiti or spiced baked feta. Oh! My! God!
The seafood was fresh and plentiful and the lamb tender and delicious. We were only really hassled to eat at particular places in Corfu Town where showing interest in a menu was an open invitation to have all fifteen pages of it read to you by the waiters or owners. In the smaller town we were left to stop and browse without badgering. Prices for apparel were not the cheap option I remembered from all those years ago but I did manage to find a little boutique with end of season prices that were too good to pass up. Not sure when I will get to wear my new collection of sundresses in London but I’m assured summer will come again and I will be well ready.
One very disappointing situation on Corfu currently is what could best be described as a garbage crisis. With almost non-existent recycling (a mere 5%) and the only designated landfill site declared illegal and shut down, garbage mounts in roadside piles across the island. Interestingly although the piles can be pretty big we didn’t see evidence of widespread rubbish littering the streets randomly. There seems to be an effort to collect the garbage but nowhere to take it after it is collected. The new designated site is subject to protests from locals which I can understand. The answer is a concerted effort to reduce, reuse and recycle but as usual everybody seems to expect someone else to sort the problem for them. Our host was a dedicated recycler but she is definitely in the minority. Corfu needs its own “War on Waste”. Maybe we could find a Craigos Reucacasselopolis to take on the challenge. It is not a challenge that can be put off much longer before it spoils this beautiful place.
The end of our stay was a walk around the narrow winding cobbled streets of Corfu Old Town and a visit to the Old Fortress.
From this vantage point there was a marvellous view of the peculiar 'Sailing Yacht A' owned by a Russian billionaire and enormous in size, it certainly turned every head by the harbour. On our ferry trip back from Paxos the day before, Ian was googling the boat and it turned out we were sitting next to a young couple who worked on the yacht. The young man cleaned the masts, each one over 90 metres tall, the tallest carbon masts in the world and taking two days each to clean. (The main mast has a room inside it!) The sails are each larger than a football pitch! And there is a helipad on one of the decks. It is a BIG boat. Certainly not classically beautiful as yachts go but it sure looks amazing with the sun glinting off its steel and carbon fibre hull.
It was lovely to be back in Corfu. It still retains its charm despite the tourist hoards and the garbage problem. We found plenty of places off the beaten track and had a wonderful relaxing time. Ian thoroughly enjoyed his first Greek adventure and we left happily tanned, water-logged and perhaps a kilo or two heavier (on our hips and in our baggage!)
