Corfu

I blame Gerald Durrell for my interest in Corfu. My Family and Other Animals, his memoir of boyhood on that island, was instrumental to my wish to visit.

First I had to get there by ferry. It was an overnight passage, so I boarded a train around midday to the western port city of Patras. I have memories of being helped to the correct platform by other tourists, seeing the Corinth Canal, which slices through the Isthmus of Corinth and technically makes the Peloponnese an island, and dozing off in the crowded carriage in the warm afternoon. As Patras there were cooling breezes.

While browsing the Patras markets for victuals for the crossing, I fell in with an Israeli backpacker also headed for Corfu. Call me Doobie, he said, short for his longer name. We agreed to share accommodation in Corfu to save costs.

I had an "airline type seat" and I recall Doobie spread his sleeping bag on the deck, like most other backpackers.

In the dawn, we made a stopover at the last mainland port, Igoumenitsa. In my sleep deprived state, my mind childishly juggled syllables, Igoumenitsa, Ignoremenitsa. I think I even made up a shaggy dog story for it.

But Corfu soon hove into sight and we passed the promontory with the old fortress overlooking the old town.

We berthed at this port.

We found some decent lodgings with breakfast included. I remember the landlord reminded us not to put our backpacks on the clean white bedsheets.

That afternoon we examined the fortress more closely. Corfu has passed through many hands, including the Venetians and the British, so a young boy Gerald Durrell did not look out of place during those pre-WWII years. The islanders are very accustomed to hosting tourists and other foreigners.

The fortress was in disrepair but it had a good view of the harbour, straits and the mainland in the distance.

We rented a couple of mopeds. The shop owner wanted some security so I let him hang on to my Eurailpass. It was either that or my passport. We went to visit the Achilleion, a palace owned by the tragic Empress Elisabeth of Austria, nicknamed Sisi. She was beautiful and loved beauty. Among the many paintings and statuary is this ceiling painting at the entrance.

The bearded guy in this picture of the gardens is Doobie. I didn't know or remember it, but the upstairs was a casino and the downstairs a museum at the time of my visit. A year later, the site was returned to the Greek Tourist Organisation.

I think these great views are from the grounds of the Achilleion, but I can't be certain.

Another memory I have is of us on the road is stopping at a small village bakery. The bakery and bread were very basic, but because the bread was fresh, it was gorgeous.

We explored the winding roads of Corfu and at a lookout, probably the hilltops of Kanoni, we had this view of Vlacherna Monastery and Pontikonisi Island.

In the evening we went to have dinner and drinks in the town. This coloured fountain is in Spianada Square, a well frequented area of town.

I'm sure you can tell from the photo that we (and other people) were having a good time.

The next day we headed north. Our destination was the beach at Kassiopi, right at the top of the island. When I was there it was nowhere near as touristy as Wikipedia describes. The beach there was pebbly so I declined to swim and guarded our belongings while Doobie took to the water. I probably didn't think the beach picturesque enough to take a photo.

We then headed up the highest mountain on the island, Mount Pantokrator. The vegetation got sparser the higher we went. It also got cooler and windier. Our mopeds struggled with the slope so in sections we had to dismount and walk alongside the moped.

Finally at the summit, beneath the transmission tower, we caught our breath. That's Doobie again.

Descending was even more difficult than because of the ever present hazard of skidding on loose gravel. In fact when we got back to our lodging that afternoon, after returning the mopeds, we met a couple sitting in the courtyard, relaxing there, but also nursing some abrasion wounds. I seem to remember there were bandages too. It seems they had an, um, incident on a gravel corner. But they seemed cheerful about it, maybe it could have been worse.

This part of Corfu is separated by a 2 km channel from Albania. The Iron Curtain had not come down yet, and I wondered if anybody had tried escaping by swimming across. No doubt it was heavily guarded on the other side.

I liked the yellow of these wildflowers, but they were probably weeds.

The next day we took the overnight ferry to Brindisi, Italy. This is the last photo I took in Greece, a fisherman on the waterfront I spotted pounding an octopus to tenderise it.

Note from 2014: I have not been back to Greece since, unless you count a day trip to Kastellorizo in 2000. I wonder whether the strain of the austerity is apparent to tourists.