A gently rising easterly breezes blows along the hot slopes of
Trompetta above quiet afternoon
Ano Korakiana. Stirring curtains. It's weather for lying around in the sultry heat. An iced drink to hand and a book about a cold northern city - Berlin
Noir.
The ferry from Bari hardly wanted to stop at Corfu. We were woken at 0500 on Monday morning. Hurried down the stairs at the stern to find the gangplank rising already, and so were chivvied on to the truck ramp, which rose as we touched the concrete apron at the far end of the Corfu
digue a mile from the port gates. The great vessel was well on course for
Igoumenitsa before we began trundling our cases under the yellow arc lights towards the shore - with hours to spare before
Kostas arrived with the car.
* * *
From our balcony off Democracy Street I peer over at our neighbour's canopy.
Leftheris, in the depth of his greenery, looks up from a small central clearing amid the vines and gestures his dismay at the withering heat. I shrug in sympathy quietly savouring it as much as the green wetness of the Highlands far away.
* * *
We flew to Rome on Sunday. Stayed in that unromantic city for a night 'living off imported air', quarreling on and off, then took the train to Bari port, settling our differences amid a jilted Italian landscape, hurried quietly by our elegant carriage, sipping wine, enjoying prosciutto, salami in crisp soft baguettes, reading and coffee, waiting to greet bright Ελλας.
A gently rising easterly breezes blows along the hot slopes of Trompetta above quiet afternoon Ano Korakiana. Stirring curtains. It's weather for lying around in the sultry heat. An iced drink to hand and a book about a cold northern city - Berlin Noir.
The ferry from Bari hardly wanted to stop at Corfu. We were woken at 0500 on Monday morning. Hurried down the stairs at the stern to find the gangplank rising already, and so were chivvied on to the truck ramp, which rose as we touched the concrete apron at the far end of the Corfu digue a mile from the port gates. The great vessel was well on course for Igoumenitsa before we began trundling our cases under the yellow arc lights towards the shore - with hours to spare before Kostas arrived with the car. 
* * *
From our balcony off Democracy Street I peer over at our neighbour's canopy. Leftheris, in the depth of his greenery, looks up from a small central clearing amid the vines and gestures his dismay at the withering heat. I shrug in sympathy quietly savouring it as much as the green wetness of the Highlands far away.
* * *
We flew to Rome on Sunday. Stayed in that unromantic city for a night 'living off imported air', quarreling on and off, then took the train to Bari port, settling our differences amid a jilted Italian landscape, hurried quietly by our elegant carriage, sipping wine, enjoying prosciutto, salami in crisp soft baguettes, reading and coffee, waiting to greet bright Ελλας.
You have some lovely photos on your recent posts. I really like the curtains on this . . . and the portrait on the train on the one before . . . and the boots in the hills . . . and the frog.
ReplyDeleteBest wishes
Susan Harwood