After our trip to Kerkyra we decided to continue exploring the island and rented a vehicle for a couple of days. Looking uncannily like BBC antique expert, Philip Serrell, the hire company boss George declared I was the most beautiful woman on the island, gave us a 25% discount and insisted he gave us a little red Hyundai (as opposed the white ones parked out front) to match my lipstick.
Within minutes of leaving Paleokastritsa Jon turned down a country lane, hit a tree trunk and ripped the tyre to shreds. As we stood horror struck contemplating the damage, a man emerged from a nearby olive grove, told us to wait a moment and returned armed with a car jack, helping Jon to fit the emergency wheel in minutes. It turned out he was originally from Germany and had fallen in love with Greece back in the 1980s. A couple of years ago he realised his dream by buying a plot of land on Corfu & together with his wife had built a house and were living off-grid.
We were invited into their house where he made coffee whilst Jon washed his hands and met the gaggle of geese, chickens, lame dog and blind cat with whom they shared their home. It was amazing, made and furnished entirely from things they'd either found lying around or been given as, he quite rightly pointed out, buying new stuff only serves to fuck up the planet even more than it is already. Inevitably the conversation turned to Brexit for which we apologised profusely and promised it was nothing to do with us. I'm seriously considering getting tee shirts printed up with "Don't blame me, I voted remain", everywhere in the world we go we're quizzed about the bastard thing.
After the dodgy start we continued on to Corfu Donkey Rescue (CDR), situated a couple of miles inland from Paleokastritsa. The charity was formed by an English ex-pat in 2004 in a bid to save the island's abandoned and unwanted donkeys from being shipped to Italy and used in the salami trade.
Today CDR offers sanctuary to thirty-nine donkeys, sixty-three cats, chickens and a handful of dogs. They are open seven days a week and, after a short tour & safety induction, visitors are more than welcome to pet, groom and feed the resident beasts. Admission is free and donations are very welcome and we were more than happy to oblige.
The donkeys are segregated according to their needs. The ones in the photo above are fairly recent additions and are being treated for various ailments, including undernourishment. If they wanted fuss they'd approach and nuzzle you, if they didn't they ignored you and carried on eating.
The sixty-three cats were a contented bunch, well-fed and ridiculously fussy. Titch, the donkey Jon's petting in the photo below is deaf and partially blind but loved all the attention.
After saying goodbye to our new friends we decided to drive to the top of Mount Pandokrátor, at 2,833 feet the island's highest peak. The road we followed was a series of perilous corkscrew bends and, coupled with having to drive on the right, wasn't the most relaxing of experiences but, oh my word, just look at that view!
Every so often we'd stop the car so we could admire the rolling landscape of fruit trees, fields and vineyards where some of Corfu's finest wines are apparently produced.
This side road, our guidebook advised us, is emphatically not to be driven in bad weather. Oh dear. Although Monday's sky had started overcast, by the time we'd reached our destination the weather had taken a turn for the worst. Apparently, on a clear day travellers are rewarded with unbeatable views; the entire sickle outline of Corfu and, over a narrow channel, a glimpse of Albania. To the south, in the blue Ionian sea, lie the islands of Paxi and distant Lefkáda. We could hardly see a hand in front of our faces and dressed in shorts and a strappy dress, it was seriously chilly on that summit.
As we commenced our descent, as if taunting us, the sun put in a brief appearance...
We headed to the coastal resort of Acharavi for lunch and found a gorgeous roadside taverna called the Lemon Tree where we sat in a garden shaded by lemon, orange, pomegranate and olive trees & feasting on what else but Greek Salads and Mythos (small ones, Jon was driving!)
Acharavi was a bleak and unprepossessing place, an abundance of derelict businesses and boarded up houses with tourists either trundling around on mobility scooters or dressed in sportswear (a bit like being at home, only warmer). We walked along the seafront in the drizzle and then headed back to Paleokastritsa via a tyre shop in the resort of Gouvia to get a replacement fitted ready for tomorrow's adventures.
After the previous day's grey skies and drizzle, Tuesday saw a welcome return to blue skies and sunshine.
First on our agenda was the Achilleion Palace, used as a location in the Bond film, For Your Eyes Only. Set atop a steep coastal hill, seven miles from Kerkyra, Austria's empress, Elizabeth, the niece of King Otto of Greece, fell in love with the site on a visit to the island in the 1860s. In 1889, desperately unhappy in her marriage, stifled by the pomp of Vienna and devastated by the suicide of her only son Rupert, she bought the land and commissioned a summer palace to be built worthy of her hero, Achilles. The result, built in extreme Neo-Classical style, was immediately criticised as being tasteless and ostentatious with Lawrence Durrell calling it a monstrous building whilst Henry Miller said it was the worst piece of gimcrackery I ever laid eyes on.
 |
| The empress, Elizabeth |
Poor Elizabeth only had seven years in which to enjoy her palace, her life coming to a premature end in 1898, when on a visit to Geneva, she was stabbed to death by an Italian anarchist.
Ostentatious and over the top? Pah! We loved it!
We had an iced coffee (another of our Grecian addictions) and swooned over the view.
Once the island's nonstop party town frequented by young boozy Brits, Benitses has reinvented itself and, with the addition of a smart new harbour, now attracts a far more cosmopolitan and civilised visitor.
Benitses has been settled since at least Roman times. Behind the harbour square stand the remains of what was once a Roman bathhouse while the old village, behind the main square, retains the sleepy feel of a traditional Greek fishing village.
I love strolling around traditional villages during siesta, you can peep through windows and talk to cats without being disturbed.
Lunch was Greek salad, beer and local bread, eaten at Captain Octopus, a pretty taverna overlooking the harbour.
Before leaving we tried to visit Benitses' Shell Museum but despite following the signposts, couldn't find it. I can only assume it had closed for the season. Maybe next time... I do like having a reason to return.
Against a backdrop of crumbling cliffs with rock formations at either end, the 450 metre stretch of sands known as Glyfada Beach was our next destination.
Call us biased but despite Glyfada being called the finest beach on the island, we preferred the tranquillity and calm of Paleokastritsa but enjoyed basking on the sand for an hour or two.
After dusting the sand off our feet we got into our little red Hyundai and headed back towards Paleokastritsa. We had one final stop before we returned the car to George.
See you soon.