Having the weekend off before travelling was a revelation. I shopped on the Thursday, worked on Friday and packed on Saturday... A bit like Solomon Grundy or Craig David. Sunday was of course filled with all the jobs that usually get done at 1 am when I just want to go to bed. So we were refreshed and ready at six am on Monday to start the long journey to Corfu.
Claire from Benz business cars was prompt and efficient as usual for our transfer to the airport but then she does remind me awfully of Karen Brady.
The airport was less painful than I thought, there actually wasn't a lot of hanging about. The girls were happy perched on their trunki cases, until Craig yanked Freya's out from under her. Pan and Chat-le were safely ensconced in mini baby carriers on Freya and Edie's chests. Despite mum's worries about Edie's dislike of loud noises she slept through the entire flight.
We met some nice Yorkshire folk on the coach, who luckily had been before so could tell the driver that the Mayflower was actually inaccessible down a little dirt track. It turned out to be a beautiful and quiet set of apartments with no bar but a fridge at the pool (which should save us a fortune).
On the first evening we headed up to Moraitika to get the lay of the land. We stopped at a nice looking bar that was expensive but was playing good music. Freya asked if the music was Greek music, they were playing the Stone Roses. Ironic, to have flown from Manchester to Greece to sit and listen to a band from Manchester.
We braved the local supermarket and paid a fortune for honey Cheerios and honey from Corfu and managed to stock up on Mythos and other Greek beers, yoghurt and tzatziki.
Our days seem to have fallen into a pattern with the girls- they get up at 9, by the time we have breakfasted on the balcony and got sun cream on, it is 11 when we hit the pool. Two hours playing and swimming. In for lunch and a 'disco nap' for the girls then back out for pool time 4-6pm. The girls are thrilled to be staying out late and coming back when the stars are out.
Highlights so far include watching an oversized Greek Elvis compere a dance show including a man who danced through flames with a glass of water on his head. Reading on the balcony with a drink in the evening. Eating big soft peaches and glossy cherries bought off a peddlar at the beach.
The wildlife is noisy, amongst all the cicadas and grasshoppers there is something that makes the sound of a WW2 submarine radar 'blip' that is comforting. The kids are thrilled by the gekkos and dragonflies.
We played music on the balcony on the first night, playing quietly so as not to disturb the neighbours. The woman next door asked us to turn it up (phew) we later discovered that Norwegian Erika has been away from home for nearly three weeks and desperately missed music- shame that it is Metallica that she misses. We indulged her a little bit then went a bit more mainstream. The kids are mad for 'Ghost Town' by The Specials, 'Gangnam Style' by Psy and 'You are Beautiful' by One Direction.
One of the party from Yorkshire is a disabled woman, haven't asked her name because we have been chatting for three days now and it seems odd like we have missed that window! She has gait difficulties, speaks very slowly and seems really fond of kids. I didn't know if perhaps she had some mental challenges. Chatting by the pool today, it turns out she was a children's district nurse (hence the love of kids) and developed a brainstem tumour at the age of 30 which has compressed all her nerves running though her spinal column- there but for the grace of God go I.
Sitting quietly amoung the fruit trees enjoying some 'me time' wont get the hand washing done or my Dan Brown book read. I brought my crochet, Craig called me granny Chambers but when I rustled up a funky coral coloured dishcloth for our apartment (which was bereft of the same) I think I redeemed the noble art.
Want to see my view....
And here's a photo of my masterpiece of course.