Chairete (Greek for Hello),
There is
something unnatural about human-beings waking up at 3am whilst it is still dark
outside and especially on a Sunday. I mean it just feels so odd. I suppose if
you work at night-times you would not see much daylight but for me, the dark
times of the day is for doing stuff naughty and very inappropriate for the
daylight hours. Oh and sleeping. But yes I was up at this crazed hour. Why you
ask? I was going on yet another holiday. Number three to be precise. And so I
curled my hair, donned my airport threads and headed out the door of the family
home Miss Tweedle-Dumb shares with her parent’s. But not before Miss
Tweedle-Dumb and I caught Miss Tweedle-Dumb’s sister and her boyfriend in the
kitchen with trousers round their ankles and blushed faces.
Hitching a
lift from Miss Tweedle-Dee’s Mom we headed to the airport and after a quick cigarette
whizzed through baggage and airport security, much to The Tweedles dismay that
they were not frisked. Early mornings such as this, and in fact any occasion whereby
an airport is involved should include a trip to Starbs. But on arrival to my
fave coffee outlet of all time I was very much angry to find out that there was
not a hot bit of food being served. This in turn lead to a rather disappointing
and slightly stale Skinny Blueberry Muffin and large Caramel Macchiato. With
minutes to spare and being almost the last few to board the plane Miss
Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I took our seats and awaited the last few
moments in Blightly. On take-off though I felt an odd sense of emotion. Mr.
Warehouse was working that Sunday so we spoke for a little whilst taxing on the
runway but I felt slightly more at a loss than I did when I went to Las Vegas
in March. I soon had my mind taken off of the subject as My Tweedles were catching
up on some Zzz.
Landing in
Corfu we were thrust straight through security whose attitude seemed as though
if you had a brown book the same size as that of a passport you were through. Nevertheless
I then allocated myself of the baggage collector which sounds much more
important than it probably was. Soon enough our luggage was coming round and I
was soon carried away with said bag and along the carousel, continuously
knocking into people before someone helped me from the moving conveyor belt of
death. “One down, four more to go” I thought as I tried in vain not to take out
small children close to the moving river of colourful bags and boxes. As we
approached the exit of the airport and boarded the transfer bus we soon had a
moment to soak in the holiday for what it was. A relaxing holiday on the Greek
island of Corfu. But as the bus set off and we looked at one another we soon
realised that maybe our 2-star, self-catering holiday in the sunny out-of-season
resort of Kavos which was far from any civilisation known to GoogleMaps was far
from our normal 3-star budget break.
Trundling
across the bumpy roads boarding the Ionian Sea all we witnessed from the windows was dilapidated
house after desolated villa with the odd run-down corner shop and B&B. I
had known that from watching the news and current affairs that the Greek
economy was worse than ours back home in the UK but this was something else. I
could have been looking out the window into a third world country somewhere off
the coast of India or Africa. But it wasn’t. This was Greece, or an island of
at least – Rich with culture, historic value and a food haven. The scenes I was
being broadcast from the back of the bus was not what I anticipated even for
outside the standard holiday season. Time passed and the more we passed the
less optimistic my friends were being coming. I too was becoming worried.
Soon our
coach stopped. We were on a dirt track. There was nothing around us but unloved
buildings and homes with overgrown gardens. The Greek coach driver that spoke
little or no English ushered us off the safety of the bus and instructed us
down yet another dusty concrete road.
“Are you
sure we are at the right place?” Miss Tweedle-Dee asked, a worried look
crossing her face. The man smiled and nodded as he unloaded our bags and hoofed
us in the direction he was asking us to go. And like a scene from many a
Hollywood flick we stood back from the main road, if you could even call it
that, and watched as our only link to life as we knew it disappeared into the
distance. Mustering up all the strength we had left, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss
Tweedle-Dumb and I made our way towards what we would now call home for the
next seven days.
Stepping
into our apartment we were pleasantly surprised. It was tidy and livable. It
was not as clean as I would have liked but given the state of my flat when I
left, it was probably cleaner. The pool was a very short walk and so was the
bar where Jagerbombs and Cocktails were two for a fiver. Sun-loungers were
aplenty and not a German in site to nab them in the morning. In fact there was
barely anyone there, a handful of elderly Brits looking for a budget break in
the sun in a bid to tan their wrinkles. Bathroom was acceptable and kitchen was
standard, so after we had unpacked our cases Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss
Tweedle-Dumb and I took to the pool for a cocktail and a sun-bathing sesh in
the late-afternoon sun.
So far our
holiday has been a relaxing medley of food, chilly pool dips and lazy sun
snoozes on the loungers, featuring the odd trip to the beach which is far from
substandard. It reminds me very much of the odd bit of sand that you find on
the edge of a lake or river bank and can hardly be called a beach at all really
but still, our hotel backs onto the ‘Beach’ which is more than most of our
holidays previously. And so my Greek adventure begins. Tomorrow I shall join my
friends whilst we indulge in more top-up-tanning by the pool as we gaze out
across the shore at mainland Greece which is closer than I expected. Holiday so
far has been better than anticipated and I look forward to seeing more of what
the island has to offer. Shopping and exploring as well as a few excursions is
on the cards and I am excited for writing to you all next week to tell of all
my comings and goings in Corfu.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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