Now that I am back home and have wifi that doesn’t run at a snails pace I have been able to upload a selection of photos from the trip for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy!
Last days of a holiday are always difficult as there’s the packing up, checking out and then the hanging around at the airport. Fortunately for us our flight wasn’t until 9pm and we still had the hire car so we could make the most of the day.
We spent all the afternoon back in Corfu Town this time visiting the Old Fort and the park below it where they seem to have encased Lawrence Durrell in carbonite…
After an early evening meal we made our way to the airport where the plane, full of rowdy pensioners (and us), left early!
Back to reality with a bump as we made our way back home with late road closures and the overhead matrix signs as usual not reflecting reality.
Now time to plan our next adventure.
Corfu is a small island and so it is difficult to find new things to do but today we stumbled upon somewhere we hadn’t been before. On our way to the very beautiful Vlacherna Monastery we stopped at some Roman ruins that we had seen before but never got round to.
Opposite was an unprepossessing entrance with what looked like a pretty garden the other side. On closer inspection it turned out that this was the birth place of our very own Phil the Greek! Having recently been round his latest home it seemed rude not to also see his birth home too. While the grounds were extensive the house itself was pretty modest but still more stately and grand than our own home. He wasn’t slumming it!
We drove on from there to Vlacherna which is a tiny monastery on the outskirts of Corfu Town. The last time we visited it seemed a really peaceful place but, as you can see from the image above, it is also in the flight path for Corfu airport. While we were there three planes came in to land. Not so peaceful after all.
Finally, we drove to Corfu Town itself and wandered the streets in search for two things: a cafe that Helen had said had great coffee and an Olympiacos shirt. After going round in circles we eventually found the Cafe Bristol and I’m told the coffee was as good as Helen remembered.