Dancing in the Corfu rain like nobody's watching
It's quiet now after all our village festivities.Narnia lamp post.
And it is bliss.
It's been a week now since our panigyri and still the days and nights have been pretty humid.
'The weather will start to change after the 15th,' we were told by our weatherman Canadian George, as the summer celebrations built up to a crescendo last Thursday to mark the dormition of the Theotokos.
With the end of our long line of visiting family and friends, things have become calmer but the weather is still hot. After almost ten months in Greece, I am no longer like a holidaymaker, craving for sun. I sit in the shade whenever I can. I enjoy the early mornings, when the days are at their coolest.
How chambermaids cope with changing hotel beds and cleaning in this heat is beyond me. They deserve a medal rather than a pittance. And I now understand why a siesta is so important to the people who work in this heat all day. It grinds you down, it wears you out.
This pair of work boots have stood alone on a village building site for a couple of days now. I'm rather concerned their owner has vaporised.
We knew it was coming because we had a phone call from Corfu Town from our neighbour. He wanted us to remove the tools from the back of his truck and put them under cover.
'It's pouring with rain here,' he said. 'It won't be long until it reaches you.'
And, sure enough, twenty minutes later, the thunder and lightning began, bouncing off the mountains that surround our village stage like the seating in an amphitheatre. It was the first rain we've had since Greek Easter. It lasted at most about half an hour.
I think Zeus and Co were up in the gods of the amphitheatre looking down. But I didn't care. It was wonderful.
“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
And today? Still scorchio.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x