Last day

There are things to which a photo or a bunch of words cannot do justice.

The colour of the water at Nafsika's cave and down the cliffs of the monastery in Palaiokastritsa is one of them.

Like the sound of the cicadas mixed to the sound of the waves, while lying on a pebbles beach in Kassiopi's bay. 

Or the freshness of an unexpected cave, found following the footsteps of a bunch of Germans hiking up mount Pantokrator.

For other things, a couple of photo shots may help.

Sadly, tomorrow at this time I will be a caught by another kind of blue, in the livery of a Ryanair aircraft heading north.

Going north

Staring at cliffs is one of my addictions.

I lost my breath long time ago at the Irish Cliffs of Moher and was knocked out again more recently down under at the 12 Apostles.

Driving in the north-west of Corfù, across cypress and olive tree forests, Cape Drastis added some more jabs.

Small Ionians

The worst kept secret in Corfù is that ferries take you for a day trip to Paxos and Antipaxos, small neighbours in the turquoisest part of the Ionian sea.

So small that only a meagre 200.000 olive trees exist on Paxos, while Corfù can afford around 4 million.

And so secret that ferries are usually fully booked, including the organised tours with hundreds of people (and pork souvlaki) roasting onboard.

Corfiots are very proud of the little ones and can talk endlessly about the beauty of their waters. 

I can now confirm.

Corfù

A new summer, a new corner of Greece. 

Here in Corfù temperature is just right, the garlic in the tzatziki is just a little above what literature may prescribe, the blue is just as overwhelming as it needs to be.

Afroditis, selling jewellery in Kerkyra centre, told us about 'meandros', the spiral and Greek symbol of life without an end. Who wants to live forever? The Corfiots, she said.

Guess she may have a point.

Stamatis, restaurant owner up the hill in Acharavi, 35 years in the business, seemed to be of the same mind. Wondering if that has anything to do with the fact that he seemed to keep forgetting what we were talking about.

Meandros or not, one of the beauties of Kerkyra is meandering through the narrow venetian streets. Later on, a wrong turn may send you meandering through narrow mountain roads, tiny villages and surprise viewpoints.

Going to Greece

Even after so many flights, taking off never fails to make me smile. A smile of pleasure and of expectations, of joy and of wish. That superb feeling of conquering the sky.

Then comes the landing, in a strip of land half sunk by an earthquake, black of lava and blue of cobalt. Can't wait to start taking pictures.

But the kiss of the southern sun on my skin is too tempting to ignore. A gentle touch, a light caress is all I need for today. Discoveries, adventure, pictures, maybe tomorrow. Sorry world, today is for me.

Athens, here we come

Landing in the south starts always with a nice feeling: skies are higher, the sun is shining, the air just smells differently. Or it's the spring, maybe. But actually it's the same: for a Brussels expat springtime and south Europe are synonyms.

A walk through Monastiraki and Plaka, a visit of the Acropolis and of the new Acropolis museum (where the basis of "my" statue - ancient Filoumeni - is on display), souvlaki at Thanasis, a day-long intense meeting on Greek Broadband.

A good dinner in a restaurant with a view of the Acropolis is certainly for tourist, but who cares, we are tourists. More for locals, drinks in the posh Kolonaki area. There my friend asked "so, where is the crisis"? Young, well dressed people enjoying themselves with a cigarette and a drink. In fact, one of the Greeks we met remarked that Briatore's Billionaire in Porto Cervo is nothing special once you've seen Athens' clubs.

Definitely a very nice trip. That said, I don't think I would like living in Athens. And here I am, back to Brussels.