The island of Corfu assaults the senses

There's something about this place, this magical place.

OK, so we have sun, sea and sand. And plenty of it.

But Corfu is so much more. Despite all the obvious influences of its conquerors, the island is just like this graffiti on a hillside crash barrier.
It assaults your senses, everywhere you go.

This morning, the swallows dart in and out, looking for a suitable place to nest. Oh please come, please.

There's a cuckoo in the olive groves, a cockerel crowing, dogs barking, a dove in a palm tree and sparrows chirping in a lemon tree laden with sweet-smelling blossom. Our neighbour is next door building an apothiki and his little Chewbacca dog, who is just getting used to a drastic haircut, has just popped over the say hello.

The azure water is crystal clear down at Paleokastritsa.
The monastery's beautiful gardens smell of cat pee but you can forgive them for that when you see what's being taken care of in a box.
A door looks out onto the courtyard...
and the sea is beckoning.
 
Down at the Achilleion Palace, the sun beats down on the Dying Achilles, his face forever in agony in this statue by Ernst Herter.
 
In the evenings, the olive groves sparkle with a hundred fireflies lighting your way down to the latest panegyri.

There are lights in the trees and we're surrounded by crazed balloons on all sides of our table. There is singing and dancing, drinking and eating.
And then in Corfu Town, as you sit having a coffee in one of the cafes and watch the world go by...
I love Corfu.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x


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