Southern surprises
Thankfully, we escaped, and carried on south, to Benitses and beyond. Benitses? Club 18-30 was invented for it. A colourful, tacky strip-mine of tavernas, tourist markets and island discos, with the odd karaoke bar and Irish pub thrown in for variety. On we pressed, hoping to find Peristeron, reputedly a local favourite and blessed with the clearest waters on the island.
Missed it completely.
Only when we got to Messongi did we realize that our intended stop-off was buried somewhere behind all this crass commercialism. Pity, it would have been fun. Fortunately, better things lay ahead. At Messongi we turned West, intending to cross the isthmus and see Korission Lake. Almost on the turn was a roadside stall, selling the season’s first pick of strawberries. Screeched to as much of a halt as our trusty little Fiat can manage, and went over. The farmer himself came out, helped me choose the best punnet, wished us ‘calipaska’ and looked mighty pleased with his first sale of the day. And the strawberries were fabulous. On to Korission.
The lake is actually a large body of fresh water, lying adjacent to the sea on the western coast of the island, and a bizarre and beautiful place it is too. Flat, fen-like land planted with olives and grapes gives way to reeds and marshland, before one final corner, and there it is. How it remains fresh, and why the sea doesn’t breach the tiny strand which is all that protects it from the Med is beyond comprehension. Yet here it is, large as life and twice as beautiful. Inexplicably undeveloped too, and long may it remain so.
On the way in we had passed a small sign boasting ‘the only original and authentic Corfiot wines’ so we had to stop in on the way back. Delicious they were too, and suitably refreshed, we continued on our wobbly way. Honest, I only sipped, and definitely never swallowed. Never…
Choosing to stick to the coast, and the (orange) minor rather than (red) major roads down which we had just traveled, led us through some spectacular scenery and delightfully undeveloped villages. The road threaded through endless olive groves, sometimes offering us glimpses of the precipitous coastline, sometimes of the mountains to our right. And underneath our tyres, countless crushed olives, and the resultant slick of highly aromatic oil. No wonder the roads get slippery.
Through Sinarades, and eventually Pelekas and its weird non-junction, then rapidly back up the same road we had come down earlier in the day. Lunch was definitely needed after original and authentic Corfiot wine, and we had spotted a likely looking taverna earlier in the day. Perched high on a bend, it boasted that all the oil used in cooking came from its own factory. How could we refuse? Pitched up, were invited into the kitchen to meet wife and lunch, and felt completely at home. This is Greece at its best, homely and welcoming, proud of its food and passionate about the ingredients.
Curious, then, is how thin the veneer of tourist development, how short the distance you need to travel to encounter the other face of the island. Barely a hundred yards separates the tat from the trad, but unless you have independence of spirit or a willful nature, you are unlikely to encounter this richer, more rewarding side. Go off the beaten track once in a while, take the road less traveled, and your visit will be all the richer for it.
Missed it completely.
Only when we got to Messongi did we realize that our intended stop-off was buried somewhere behind all this crass commercialism. Pity, it would have been fun. Fortunately, better things lay ahead. At Messongi we turned West, intending to cross the isthmus and see Korission Lake. Almost on the turn was a roadside stall, selling the season’s first pick of strawberries. Screeched to as much of a halt as our trusty little Fiat can manage, and went over. The farmer himself came out, helped me choose the best punnet, wished us ‘calipaska’ and looked mighty pleased with his first sale of the day. And the strawberries were fabulous. On to Korission.
The lake is actually a large body of fresh water, lying adjacent to the sea on the western coast of the island, and a bizarre and beautiful place it is too. Flat, fen-like land planted with olives and grapes gives way to reeds and marshland, before one final corner, and there it is. How it remains fresh, and why the sea doesn’t breach the tiny strand which is all that protects it from the Med is beyond comprehension. Yet here it is, large as life and twice as beautiful. Inexplicably undeveloped too, and long may it remain so.
On the way in we had passed a small sign boasting ‘the only original and authentic Corfiot wines’ so we had to stop in on the way back. Delicious they were too, and suitably refreshed, we continued on our wobbly way. Honest, I only sipped, and definitely never swallowed. Never…
Choosing to stick to the coast, and the (orange) minor rather than (red) major roads down which we had just traveled, led us through some spectacular scenery and delightfully undeveloped villages. The road threaded through endless olive groves, sometimes offering us glimpses of the precipitous coastline, sometimes of the mountains to our right. And underneath our tyres, countless crushed olives, and the resultant slick of highly aromatic oil. No wonder the roads get slippery.
Through Sinarades, and eventually Pelekas and its weird non-junction, then rapidly back up the same road we had come down earlier in the day. Lunch was definitely needed after original and authentic Corfiot wine, and we had spotted a likely looking taverna earlier in the day. Perched high on a bend, it boasted that all the oil used in cooking came from its own factory. How could we refuse? Pitched up, were invited into the kitchen to meet wife and lunch, and felt completely at home. This is Greece at its best, homely and welcoming, proud of its food and passionate about the ingredients.
Curious, then, is how thin the veneer of tourist development, how short the distance you need to travel to encounter the other face of the island. Barely a hundred yards separates the tat from the trad, but unless you have independence of spirit or a willful nature, you are unlikely to encounter this richer, more rewarding side. Go off the beaten track once in a while, take the road less traveled, and your visit will be all the richer for it.
posted by EyeOnDubai at 3:32 am
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