On the road in Corfu

A long day here in Corfu and I’m finishing it off in my room at the Ariti Grand Hotel in Kanoni in my room, with Sky News on TV, accompanied by a large can of ice cold Heineken. Yes, I know drinking alone is not recommended but I tried that last night in the bar downstairs and it’s marginally less boring with the news on up here. And it’s cheaper. I’ve just driven to the local supermarket and bought four large cans for €5.60. In the bar here, a small can of the same €3. Do the maths.

I was expecting to be picked up at 10.00 am this morning by my friend Theo Krasakis. I was quite surprised when his brother Tasos turned up 20 minutes early. Unfortunately, Theo is unwell at the moment and Tasos was sent as a late substitute. Get well soon, Theo.

I was walking down to THAT place where everyone watches Mouse Island and, more importantly, the jet aircraft roar in and out of Corfu airport. Tasos decided to join me and I swear it was more like Cornwall than Corfu, as the gales blew up from the south. I could almost lean into it. No wonder our plane last night took the unusual route coming across the town. We’d have ended up in it had we come in from the south.

We didn’t get more than a few hundred yards before we stopped for a coffee at the Nautilus by the bay of Garitsa. The wind breaks were up and it was warm and cosy, albeit a little smoky. Smoking in public places has not really been considered here yet and it is quite easy to go home stinking of fags again. After our drinks, Tasos took the wheel and off we went to the north. We had barely left town when the heavens opened and the rain, and then hail, battered our car! I knew it rained in Corfu but this resembled biblical proportions. For the rest of the day, I splashed my way through puddles that took up half the road. We reached Sidari and drove down the near empty streets. It is fair to say that Sidari is not my favourite place but that’s not to say it’s without its supporters. It is very much the holiday resort for the Brit who likes things like they are at home but in a warm environment. In the rain and under the slate grey skies it looked most unappealing and the fact that almost everything was boarded up and shut down didn’t add to the attraction. Something like 200 people live in Sidari and yet there are something like 16,000 beds. In the winter, most of them are empty.

Then, up to San Stefanos in the north east. This is a very pretty resort but there was even less life here than in Sidari. The waves were crashing over the beach but apart from two surfers measuring the wind there were no signs of life.

My main port of call was Arillas, the wonderful resort in which we have been staying for the last decade and more. The sun had come out by the time I arrived and it was far from cold. Most places remained closed but Arillas appears to be very different from many places. For one thing, most of the businesses are actually owned by those you see behind the bars and counters and most people live there too. They also have a collective view as to how to improve, not develop, the resort. I shall write more about this elsewhere in the future. I spent a lovely hour with Tasos’ mum Anna, in whose apartments we stay, as well as his lovely girlfriend Eleni and Anna’s mother. And I had more coffee.

I then met up with Dimitris Kourkoulos and his wife. Dimitris runs the magnificent Brouklis Taverna which you simply MUST visit when you are in Corfu. Here, I ate home grown orange and imported banana. Again, more about Dimitris in the future.

I then drove from Arillas on the north coast road, turning south, calling at St Spiridon, Kalamaki, Kassiopi, Kalami and finally Agni. I can report that barring Kassiopi, no one was at home, and even Kassiopi was nearly deserted, with the shutters up. I stopped to buy some things at the only supermarket that remained open and to my amazement, I was moved on, saying I couldn’t park there! I was not blocking anyone, there were no road markings to speak of and there was no one around. But rules are rules and anyway, I couldn’t be bothered to argue that I was about to be one of their few customers of the day, but bugger it, now I wasn’t!

Long miles of having no other cars on the road changed at Barbati and soon I was observing some classic Corfiot overtaking manoevres, as cars tore by me on blind bends and roads that seemed to be barely big enough for one car never mind two!

The long, dreary and very empty Ipsos passed by, as did Dassia and Gouvia and soon I was on the outskirts of Corfu Town. Usually, I dread the left hand turn at the end of the airport runway. It’s always horrendously busy, there are no traffic lights and eventually, you need to take a gamble (with your life) to get on the move. But today it was a breeze. And the airport was utterly bereft of aircraft. This was easy.

I decided to go to Kanoni, the bottom bit with the causeway across the lake to Perama. I parked up by our favourite little cafe, which of course was closed, and made my way to the causeway. It was still warm – the car said 15c – and a couple of people were fishing for food. Then I made my way to the old monastery at Vlacherna where I saw four happy cats leaping around and playing.

And what you can hear in Corfu that you don’t so much hear in summer is the water. The crashing of the waves, the splashing the tide on the rocks and the hiss as the waves subside. My mind is so accustomed to the near still summer waters, it came as a surprise to hear the ocean’s roar.

I finished by getting a bus into Corfu Town and when I got there, found the streets sealed off by a huge presence of the emergency services. It surely couldn’t be a terrorist threat, not in little Corfu, but what was it? Not for the first time, I committed the unpardonable sin of having my dinner in McDonalds, this time out of necessity, I hasten to add. It was the only place not sealed off by the police tape. I sat down with my heart attack in a box and asked what the fuss was all about. Apparently, someone was on a roof, threatening suicide. Then the police asked everyone to move to the far side of the ‘restaurant’ (I use the term inadvisedly) which we did, although I did notice that I was the only person eating. Everyone else had come in to get a closer view of the action. I looked outside and there was a large crowd, well in three figures, rubber-necking to their hearts content. I was very disappointed at this, but I suspect it would happen anywhere in the world.

Having unsatisfied myself with junk food, I waited for the all clear which seemed to take forever. Then, an ambulance hurtled backwards down a nearby lane, a few moments later hurtling forward and off to the hospital. I don’t know what happened but I was told he didn’t die, so that was something.

By now, I needed a beer, and I mean needed a beer, but could I get one? I traipsed Corfu’s beautiful streets and lanes for well over an hour and there was cafe after cafe, coffee shop after coffee shop, take away after take away and a few restaurants here and there. But nothing you could call a bar. There are bars galore along the magnificent Liston but not one person was drinking beer! And here, in the middle of winter, people were outside because it wasn’t cold. What I wouldn’t have given for Aristotle’s authentic Irish pub in Corfu Townn is no one’s business.

Eventually, I gave up and took the bus back to Kanoni.

I’m knackered now but it was a lot of fun. I have mountains of notes and files on my voice recorder and above all memories in my head.

I really feel this book about Corfu is coming along nicely. When I get back, I mustn’t let myself down by not finishing it off.

Tomorrow: Corfu Town for coffee with the great man from Taverna Nikolas and then the south.